CHAPTER FOUR

ROSALIE

Alice and I stopped running in the middle of the woods. We took a swift and simple trek up the side of a mountain and stopped on the verge of a waterfall. It was a remarkable sight, beautiful, with cold slick rock beneath our feet and a crystalline pool wreathed in evergreen foliage.

"Good place to stop?" Alice asked. "We can make a picnic."

"I have a feeling no animals are stupid enough to stand on the edge of a waterfall."

"We are." Alice smiled. "Tell me about Spain and Italy."

"I'm not a fan of the weather."

"You know that wasn't what I meant."

"Fine. Only since Edward will tell you later. Mortals dug up the ground, exposing the coffin enough for that Angelique woman to dig Amunet up. She apparently had help from others of our kind which is alarming to say the least. Aro was not at all concerned. Then we went home."

"That's boring." Alice frowned.

"I know," I replied, starting to walk again.

We found three deer and Alice did not ask any further about Amunet.

[X]

The next day, I sat down beside Bella for art class and wondered why we never moved seats. Despite my reluctance to have anything to do with her, I knew it was because of my strong attraction to her, and that she wanted me back. It was more than sweet blood that tempted me to devour her that made her stand out; it was something about her that I found transfixing.

As quickly as I could, I turned my thoughts away from her. I did not need anyone. I was not open to the idea of romance, even when I caught sight of her eyes in the fleeting greyish sun.

When I first met her, they looked like a boring human brown I hardly noticed—except the proper protocol when trying not to rip out a human's throat is to look into their eyes and remember they are a sentient being—just muddy and ordinary. Then, as art classes passed, by the time she jumped in front of a car for me, I noticed they were a russet hue and that they had a perpetual gleam. Not a sparkle; they glistened. There was a difference. One day, I saw the sun hit them while she worked on her wolf mask, and I saw that they were deep, rich golden sunbeams radiating from a pitch black eclipse, wreathed in warmth. They were soft like fur most of the time, but when she focused hard enough, they were strong and cold like axinite.

When I noticed them, sometimes I thought about Alice sitting in my room reading trashy magazines and exclaiming in my direction, 'It says people with brown eyes are the best kissers!' and I scowled so bitterly at the incorrigible girl.

Bella began to look up and I quickly stopped staring at her mousy hair. She rose and grabbed a sharp tool to begin scoring her clay. Before she made a move, she studied the beginnings of a vase and made two incisions before wildly overshooting and cutting open a gash on her finger. She howled from pain and the class stopped to stare. I force myself not to breathe and froze in place, petrified by fear. I was beyond lucky that I hunted yesterday.

"Rosalie," said the art teacher, penetrated my panicked thoughts, "could you take her to the nurse please?"

I tried to think of a decent and plausible excuse but I was too nervous. My head spun as I stood up and tried not to look at the red splash on Bella's ivory skin.

Bella looked up, visibly sweating, and said through pained clenched teeth, "I can go myself, Mrs. Turner."

The art teacher shook her head. "That's a lot of blood. You might faint so I need to send somebody with you. School policy."

Bella shot me an apologetic glance as I led her from the room. It took everything in me to hold back. This was easily one of the hardest things I had ever done.

"I just hate the smell of it," said Bella, and I almost laughed.

"Of what?" I curiously asked, attempting to keep my eyes away from her hands.

"Blood." She wrinkled her nose. There was a freckle on it I never before noticed. "It smells like rust and salt."

I stared at her, wondering what kind of weird excuse for a mortal she was. While she may be a wolf, she still was a weird one.

As we walked, Bella kept looking down at her hand and it took me a second to realize why. Her wound was almost fully healed. It certainly no longer was spurting, to my relief.

"I'm just—uh—I'm—uh—I'm just going to duck into the bathroom for a minute," nervously said Bella, trying to conceal her bloody but unmarred hand.

"Wash up while you're in there," I coolly said, not about to let on that I knew her secret. It made have made her more comfortable, but it would be dangerous for both of us.

"I will," said Bella as she hastily entered the girl's room.

I closed my eyes. Crisis (narrowly) averted.

When Bella walked out of the bathroom, she looked surprised that I still stood there. Not at all subtly, she slid her previously wounded hand into her jean pocket.

"I guess I can let you go to the nurse alone," I said as nonchalantly as possible. I could smell how her hot blood surged from panic and I stopped breathing again. "My vase needs me."

"Thanks for walking me this far," awkwardly said Bella Swan.

I took one last look at those melted chocolate eyes before I smoothly strode on my Givenchy heels back to the art room.

Once I sat down, I forced a slouch and started breathing again. I could once more focus on my human disguise.

To my shock, I disliked class sans Bella.

[X]

It was the night of the Valentine's Dance. I shimmied into a dress I bought in the '50s that still had luster. It was lilac and puffy and perfect. The sharp angles at my shoulders were particularly beautiful. I complemented it with a necklace of pearls and matching earrings. My heels were creamy white and silky smooth with a touch of lace.

I did love getting dressed up.

Now, I sat in front of the mirror, Alice behind me in something quaint and pink and sparkly with a big black bow, as my sort of sister did my make-up.

"One day, I'll doll you up for your wedding," Alice said with a dreamy sigh, capping the mascara with a pop.

My eyes widened. "You didn't—you didn't see that, did you?"

"Nope." Alice shrugged. "But I hope I will. You would be the most beautiful bride in history."

"I know."

"Will you dance with Bella?"

"I almost thought we forgot she existed," I lied.

"It would make me so happy if you gave her one dance."

"She has been very good at respecting my desire for space from her. Not to mention, I have no desire to lead her on."

"You wouldn't be leading her on. Everybody knows you're into her. I needled that truth out of Edward and so I know you wish you had the opportunity to try. One dance."

"I don't…" I wanted to test those waters; I wanted to dip my toe in the pond without swimming. "I don't know if I'm ready to give my heart to someone else."

"You don't have to give her your heart. Just one dance… and then maybe the horizontal Monster Mash."

"Why do you pressure me like this? My love life is my decision."

"I pressure you like a mama bird nudging her baby from the nest. You'll never fly if somebody doesn't give you a little push. Edward says you were thinking about kissing her the other day. Try it."

I decided to leave it up to fate and said, "If they play a song I deem worthy of a dance with anyone in the world, then, yes, I will try."

Alice beamed, clearly proud of her matchmaking skills.

BELLA

Billy told the story of how the wolf shifters came to be as I sat there, rapt, stunned speechless and engrossed by every word. It was difficult to believe it to be more than a legend, but after what I felt and saw—my paws in particular—I knew it was true. But then it hit me.

"I'm not Quileute. I mean, look at me." I gestured at my milky skin.

Billy suddenly looked sad—wistful even—with his eyes downcast. But Jacob wore an expression probably twice as puzzled as mine; it made me feel far less alone. Billy gazed deeply at the flames in the hearth before he turned to me.

At last, Billy said, "Before your mom met your dad and had you with him, she was my girlfriend. But, the idea of forever living on the reservation if we were to marry suffocated her. She liked to be free. She left with Charlie and I never blamed either of them. They were in love. But… I now see she may have gotten with your dad not because she was pregnant with his baby but because she was pregnant with mine."

Okay, now I had no idea what to think or say, even more so than before. Somehow, this news was more shocking an unsettling than finding out I was a wolf. My mind screamed nonstop, the thoughts flying so swiftly through my head that I could not catch nor identify a single one.

Thankfully, Jake spoke for me.

"She's my sister?" he exclaimed, once he took it in.

It was as if I had accidentally stepped into a soap opera, and my head hurt so badly that it felt like someone had smashed my sinuses in.

"Yes," said Billy. "I don't see another possibility.

I at last said, "Do you think my dad knows?"

"I don't think he does, and it's your choice whether or not you want to tell him."

Not. Definitely not. He was my dad for my whole life and I did not want that to change. Even if we didn't share genetics, he raised me and that was the important thing.

"I don't think I will," I decided aloud.

"That may be wise."

I tried to change the subject by asking, "Billy, are there… are there really… cold ones?"

"Yes," he said.

"What are they?"

"I guess most people would call them vampires."

"Vampires?"

"Vampires, and they are the only explanation for why our kind came to be."

I let that soak in for a few moments. If there were werewolves, I saw no reason why there could not be vampires.

I asked my third question. "What… what happens to the people I love? Are they in danger?"

"Wolves are natural protectors, not predators. They will be safe with you."

Then, the conversation took a sudden turn, on the topic of love, he explained imprinting to me. It was strange, one of the strangest things I had heard today. The entire time he spoke, I could think only of Rosalie.

It would explain so much.

"There… there is somebody I think… maybe that happened with," I remarked.

Billy said, "She is safest with you nearby."

I recalled crashing into that truck to protect her. Maybe. But then I remembered the way she looked at me in disgust when she got up and away from the accident.

If only she wanted me near her…

But maybe that was for the best if I kept randomly changing into a huge wolf. Maybe she was my imprint. Maybe. But she did not have to be my girlfriend. That was her decision and I would respect it no matter what.

"But," said Billy, "unless she becomes very serious with you, you cannot tell her or anyone else about our existence."

"I promise," I said.

[X]

I kept my promise in mind during my tennis practice on Monday, making sure not to be too supernaturally good. Jake cheered me on, at least.

Then, the next day, I could think of nothing but my promise not to reveal the wolves when I accidentally cut my finger while scoring clay. Rosalie already looked somewhere between repulsed and scared; I did not want to make it worse by letting her see how I healed at Wolverine's rate.

Once I ducked into the bathroom, leaving Rosalie behind, I scrubbed the blood off my hands and stared at my reflection. I could swear becoming a wolf changed my human form too. My eyes gained a strange look, like that of a predatory animal. And flecks of yellow definitely appeared in the boring old brown.

I no longer felt like Bella Swan. Part of that was good; part of it was bad. I lived in a constant state of confusion since shifting and it was beginning to wear on me, especially realizing how painful keeping a big secret feels.

It makes the chest ache. Always does.

This one, like any would, wore down on my heart.

Finally, I left the bathroom and found Rosalie standing there, much to my shock. I thought for certain she would have taken any opportunity to leave.

"I guess I can let you go to the nurse alone," said Rosalie. "My vase needs me."

"Thanks for walking me this far," I replied.

As soon as she vanished down the hall, I snuck back into the bathroom and hid in there until the bell rang. Promptly and eagerly, I strode into the hallway and walked to Spanish class.

This was all too much.

[X]

I stood at the Valentine's Dance, awkward in my new dress, surrounded by pink and red balloons with matching streamers. My back rested against the wall while I watched everyone have fun, sipping fruit punch with heart-shaped ice cubes.

Suddenly, Alice Cullen nimbly made her way through the crowd and stood in front of me.

She was probably going to request that I participate.

"Please ask my sister to dance," Alice begged, which was even scarier than I thought.

I shook my head. "She doesn't like me. I'd just be embarrassed."

Alice giggles and smiles knowingly. "Are you blind, Bella? She likes you so much; she just doesn't know how to process it. You can trust me. I'll request her favorite song and you'll ask her to dance on my cue." Alice bat her eyelashes and I could not say no.

"Alright. I guess I can ask her." And humiliate myself, I mentally added.

Alice beamed and she scuttled off to the DJ. When she returned, she gave me a look, just as Rosalie's apparent favorite song began to play.

It was "La Vie En Rose" in its original French. The recording crackled from age. She had strange but wonderful taste.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my dress as I walked towards her. The song was old and gorgeous and out of place at a dance that was to the tune of sexy contemporary tunes. I wondered what Alice said to coerce the DJ into playing it. She clearly was an excellent matchmaker; or so I hoped with all of my heart.

"Will you dance with me?" I nervously inquired, shifting my weight from foot to foot. "I just like this song and Alice said you liked it to and you can say no and I shouldn't have asked I'm sorry—"

"I will dance with you," Rosalie agreed and my heart fluttered. She took my hand and we walked onto the smooth dance floor. Her skin was as cold as ice, but I did not register what that could mean at first.

We spun and spun and I felt weightless.

More songs passed. Fast ones, slow ones, we did not care because we revolved in our own world, separate from everything else.

And when we suddenly stopped, it felt like the Universe collapsed and left me in the stark white of nothingness.

"Is something wrong?" I nervously asked and she shook her head.

"I know what you are," Rosalie whispered, as if she had been holding those words in her heart for a million years and only just now set them free.

"What do you mean?" I began to panic, because I truly had no clue what she meant.

"You're a wolf. A werewolf," she said, and I realized I was not nearly scared enough. "It's okay; your secret is safe with me. But I want to know how someone as pasty as you could be a Quileute."

"Isn't that kind of private?"

"I suppose."

"How did you know?"

Rosalie smirked and I blushed. "Isn't that kind of private?"

"Shouldn't you be scared of me?"

"Honey," Rosalie said in a faux sweet tone, "I eat werewolves like you for breakfast."

"Then… do you know about imprints?"

"Do I know about what?"

"Never mind."

"Well, now you must tell me."

I realized I dug my own grave and I wanted to run outside and live as a hermit for the rest of my life.

"It'd freak you out." I truly hoped that would deter her.

Instead, she flashed that insanely flawless smile. "I assure you, habits of allegedly mythical creatures do not usually repulse me."

I took a few deep breaths and forced myself to explain. "An imprint is a thing the shifters do where they see a person and—it's almost like soulmates or love at first sight but not exactly that way—and they would do absolutely anything that person ever wanted in the Universe because they're… destined or something."

"And I care why?"

"Because that's why I've been bothering you so much. I'm really sorry. It's a weird wolf imperative."

Rosalie stopped dancing. "You did that to me?"

I frantically stammered, nauseated, "Not on purpose. It's not a choice."

"Maybe we should go for a walk," Rosalie offered and I nodded.

We snuck out of the gymnasium and reached the locked door. Rosalie removed from a pin from her hair and impressed me yet again.

She picked the lock, to my amazement.

I asked, "How did you learn that?"

"Too much free time," she replied, and we walked through the building.

It was dark and empty. The atmosphere was eerie and forlorn; the place usually bustled with people scuttling to classes and having loud discussions, laughing, the squelching of rainboots. Even if the sun almost never shone through the windows, the fluorescent lights were off and only the moon provided illumination.

The total population felt like a negative number, even if Rosalie and I were inside.

All the students and teachers were so conspicuously absent that they glowed like neon signs.

We walked for a while, in total silence, haunting the hallways like ghosts. I told myself I would not be afraid and I would walk by her for as long as I needed. Something grew stronger and stronger inside of me the more we walked together.

As we stopped in front of a window overlooking the dark blue, sprawling evergreen forest, I turned to her and tried to gather my courage.

"I think I know what you are too," I nervously said.

"And what would that be?"

A cold one, I was going to say, but I then realized how stupid that was. I would sound like a lunatic to my imprint if I was wrong, and if I was right she might kill me. Even if I had to believe in werewolves, maybe I did not believe in vampires. My wolf side was definitely not under enough control yet to defend myself and my human form probably would not fare well.

I said the only thing I could think of, the only other observation about Rosalie I had. "A person who pretends not to have a heart to protect herself from getting hurt."

Rosalie stared at me for a long while. I worried she could hear my heart beating. It felt like a hammer against my chest.

She then leaned in and for a split second I had a vision of her sinking her teeth into my throat. But she did not have fangs, she did not have red eyes; she was not a vampire. A wolf would not imprint on a vampire, now would they?

But Rosalie did something that frightened me even more.

She gave me my first kiss.