Edward's POV
Feeling very light and carefree with a note from Bella - a token of her love - in the right front pocket of my jeans that she gave me during the first hour of school. I walk quickly across the grass, trying to pass a group of children who are walking too slowly as I make my way over to the art building where Bella is. I see her getting out of her class, and her eyes light up when she sees me, and a happy feeling bursts through me like a lightning rod. I quickly make my way over to her.
"Hey," I say, trying to play it cool. Trying to seem like a modern teen.
I'm not sure, but I think she sees through me and knows I'm not that modern. After all, the note I have in my pocket reads you are an old-fashioned gentleman, straight out of a classic movie. I like how you open doors for me; most boys don't do stuff like that nowadays. I was surprised by that statement, but at the same time, I liked how observant she is. I also liked a peek inside her mind even though it's just a simple note written in messy handwriting.
"Hey." Bella smiles.
She takes my hand and my breathing speeds up. Will it ever not thrill me to feel the touch of her soft, warm skin on my cold stone skin? To feel a burn without pain when fire and ice meet? I hope that never changes. I really like the thrill it brings me to be so close to her.
"I didn't think I'd see you until I got to Algebra class." Bella says as we begin walking hand and hand to the math building. "Wasn't your second class on the other side of the school?"
"Yeah. I had French." I answer. For some reason, I feel like I'm missing something that she's getting at.
But what?
"You got to my class very fast. The bell had only rung like a minute ago; how did you do it?" She wonders. By her tone, I feel there's more to her question than what she's saying.
"Mrs. Huffman, let us out a couple minutes before the bell rang," I say with complete honesty.
"Oh," Is all she says.
She becomes quiet, and I wonder what she's thinking. I try with all my might to penetrate her mind as we enter the math building, but it's no use. I can't read her mind no matter how hard I try. Will I ever be able to hear her thoughts?
"Sometimes my French teacher lets out early for good behavior." I say in a joking way, not wanting there to be any silence between us.
"Gotcha." She says with a giggle. "I just assumed you were really fast. Faster than most people."
Her words sound like a hidden message of sorts, but I'm not sure what she's getting at. If only I could read her mind, then I would have a better understanding of what she means.
I shrug it off as we let go of each other's hands and enter our math class for gifted children. It's a small class with only eleven students. Most of the kids are already in their seats, though a few aren't here yet. Our teacher, an older woman, a substitute, with dyed black hair in a perm and pink cat-eyeglasses that were very popular in the 1950s, greets us.
Once again, Bella and I are sitting next to each other, just like we did in English class, and I have to admit that this ridiculous Speedo I'm wearing really did save me from an embarrassing moment earlier. Or maybe moments, since I have been getting hard quite often today, and it's only the third hour of school. I guess I probably should thank Alice for coming up with the crazy idea of the Speedo, even though that in itself would be embarrassing.
The remaining students walk just as the bell rings, announcing the start of class. The room is not quiet yet and our substitute teacher stands in front of the class with a no-nonsense look on her face and a ruler in her hand. Waiting for everyone to settle down, she wraps the ruler on the desk. That quickly grabs everyone's attention, and she introduces herself, saying her name is Mrs. Clark. I'm only half-listening to her since the girl sitting beside me is much more fascinating as she digs through her backpack and pulls out a piece of paper and a pencil.
While Mrs. Clark calls attendance, Bella scribbles something on the paper. Roll call is quickly done, and we move on to our math assignment, which is opening our books to the page we are told and copying the math problems on a sheet of paper. Everyone begins to do as told, assembling their notebooks and math books on their desk while our sub turns on a black, handheld radio on her desk to a station that plays music from the 1970s.
While the song, Hooked On A Feeling, which has got to be the strangest love song of all time with its odd background music that makes me feel like I'm in a jungle, Bella folds the paper in half and slides it to me. She then gets her math book, along with her notebook, out of her backpack and places them on the desk we share. She opens her book and starts flipping through the pages.
As fast as a human can, to me, is painfully slow since I feel anxious to see what she wrote and want to move very fast. I grab the note, place it under the desk and open it.
Taken aback at what I see, I gasp. I know Bella heard me, but she doesn't react. No flinching or looking my way; she just goes on copying the math problems on her paper, only her heartbeat reacts, pumping out of rhythm. For some unknown reason, I feel she expected a similar reaction out of me as I realized I captured the attention of our sub and a few students who sit in front of Bella and me.
Trying to act casual and play it off that I'm doing my work, I open my math book, putting the piece of paper I hold on the top of the page I'm supposed to be working through. I stare at my odd little note, not sure what to think. There are little drawings of butts with wings all over the paper, along with the words in messy handwriting, reading, do you turnip into… With an arrow pointing to a big flying bottom in the middle of the paper.
Having no idea what turnips and flying butts have to do with anything, I scoot my notebook closer to me. I grab my pencil and write on the bottom of her note, what are you talking about? And what do flying rear ends and turnips have to do with anything? What's the connection?
I fold it and slide it over to her. With my pencil in my hand and keeping my head down as I begin to write down the math problems, I watch Bella from the corner of my eye. She slowly opens the paper and turns to me with a bewildered expression on her face.
Not for the first time today and probably not the last; I wish I knew what she was thinking. Keeping my hand on my pencil, I move my face only a fraction to better look at her as I scan the mind of our sub, who's intently focusing on her crossword puzzle in the morning paper. She's not paying attention to anyone. Bella's eyes lock with mine, and she's still staring at me with that same puzzled expression.
"What?" I mouth the word.
Bella moves closer; her knee brushes my thigh, sending chills of unfamiliar pleasure through me. My breath gets caught in my throat, and once again I feel myself becoming hard, and I can't think of anything but Bella. Her beauty, her touch, her smell. It all has my head spinning like an out-of-control merry-go-round.
I know I must appear to be a mess since that's how I feel; all these feelings are so new to me, and I don't know how to cope. More than anything, I want to take her in my arms and plant a kiss on her ruby red lips.
But I don't.
It wouldn't be proper to kiss inside the classroom. Emmet and Rosalie have done that one too many times throughout the years, each time they have been sent to the principal's office. Of course, their kiss was much more than an innocent peck on the lips. They get really carried away. But still, I don't want to get Bella in trouble or make her faint.
I lightly shake my head, trying to dislodge that thought. When the time is right, I'll carry out my fantasy of feeling her lips on mine.
"I didn't write or draw what you think I did." Bella whispers, her words pulling me back to the here and now. Her sweet warm breath washes over my face with each word that escapes her beautiful lips. "Look again," She pushes the paper over to me. "I drew bats, not butts."
Her breathless words that are so casual and sweet leave me with an eerie feeling, though I'm not sure why.
I do as she asked and drop my eyes to the paper. Even though she insists they are bats, I still see butts.
The sound of pencils on paper continue to fill up the room with a dull hum as students do their work with the song, Spill the Wine, coming from the radio, which seems to be playing all the hits from the seventiesserving as background noise. I sit and analyze the note before me as Bella does her math work. Still, I have no idea what it means. Turning it upside down, hoping that a different angle will provide me with more insight, I try to see what she wants me to see.
I can't.
Not giving up, I keep looking at the words again and again. Finally, I realized that I read it wrong the first time. It doesn't say, do you turnip into … it actually reads, do you turn into. I freeze as something snaps inside my brain, sending a cold chill down my spine.
'Shit!' I think to myself. 'If those are bats and she's asking if I turn into one. Then she knows what I am.
But how?'
My mind is reeling, spinning into overdrive. I don't understand what is happening and how she's able to guess. No one has ever figured this out. So how did she do it? I'm not sure.
Not having access to her mind is really a disadvantage. Not only do I not know how she was able to figure out that I'm not human, but I have no idea if she still likes me. I'm thinking no. Our date is probably canceled, and she'll probably want nothing to do with me after the bell rings, dismissing this class. I'll be sad, but I won't blame her. After all, what human would want to date a vampire?
Suddenly, Bella's hand slides across the desk and touches mine. Her fingers linger, and that surprises me, making me freeze. That gesture, so simple and sweet, makes me snap out of my melancholy mood. My eyes meet hers, and I realize she's waiting for an answer. Looking at her trusting face, I get the feeling she isn't scared of me, and I should give her the truth.
"No," I whisper just low enough for her to hear.
"But you are?" She asks, keeping her voice low, and I nod. Her eyes tell me what she's not saying, the words we can't speak in public.
I nod my head, giving her a faint yes.
A smug smile appears on her beautiful face. I have no idea what makes her smile this way, but I know I never want to be dishonest with her; I always want her to trust me.
"I have more questions." She whispers.
Hearing her words, I chuckle. Unlike most humans, she isn't a bit scared after putting the pieces of what I am into place. There's no fear in her eyes, and there's no adrenaline in her blood; her breathing isn't rapid, and her heartbeat is normal. There's only curiosity in her brain, which is closed off to me.
"Later," I whisper back. "We have math to do." I tap my math book, reminding her that we are supposed to be doing schoolwork.
A beautiful blush colors Bella's otherwise pale face. A startled look flashes through her eyes as she quickly looks around the room. She seems to have forgotten we're in a classroom and not alone. I understand that feeling; when I'm with her, nothing else matters but her and me. I'm guessing she feels that way too.
"Lunch?" She wonders.
Nodding my head in agreement, I smirk.
A giddy feeling shoots through me. She just made planes with me for the time of day I dread the most or used too. However, now I have something to look forward to at lunch; spending it with her.
This is something I can definitely get used to.
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