Chapter 13 - The Lesson
Bella
Ten days.
It's been ten whole days since I've been to the meadow.
The reason why is because a cabin near the Olympic National Park was broken into by a grizzly bear. The man who lived there hasn't been heard from since. Dad was concerned the bear would appear in Forks and hurt someone here too. He advised all citizens to keep their guards up and gave them instructions on how NOT to attract bears to their houses. The town's police force (all five of them) took to patrolling the streets at all hours, arming themselves with rifles and extra ammunition. And, I was told by my dad to stay home and keep all the doors locked up tight. The only exception to leaving the safety of the house was when I had to go to school. That meant no riding my bike just for the fun of it, no trips to the grocery store, and no more sneaking off to the meadow on weekday afternoons.
That last one hurt the most.
The truth is I've grown used to sitting in the grass there, listening to the rhythmic blending of drums and electric guitars, and hearing a honeyed voice explaining the difference between glam and punk rock.
Sometimes I wonder which I enjoy listening to the most. The music... or the voice?
Hmm.
I don't know. I still can't decide.
The owner of that voice honestly confuses me. At first I thought Edward was a little bit pushy, a whole lot arrogant, and kind of an asshole. But I discovered there's two sides to him, much like that of a coin. The Edward he presents at school is quiet and about as friendly as a rock. Yet at the meadow he answers questions without complaint, catches girls before they fall into the mud, and offers to let them borrow his expensive portable Walkman so they can secretly listen to music at home. He also has about the driest sense of humor I've ever come across. If at school he behaved anywhere close to how he does in the meadow, there's no doubt in my mind that he'd have the entire student body worshipping him like he was a bronze idol.
So as my time away from the meadow began adding up, I found myself growing restless. I missed the soft green grass, the spellbinding music playing in the air, and that confusing boy who's like a walking music encyclopedia. It isn't until a few days into April that things take a change for the better. During dinner, Dad let me know that they've determined the grizzly bear they're looking for must not be near any populated areas. I finally get the go ahead to travel around town by myself again as long as I'm careful.
The next morning when I wake up, I walk over to my bedroom window and draw open the curtains. It's cloudy as usual, but there's no more watery mist hovering over the road. And, the temperature feels warm instead of damp and chilly.
I let loose a small smile.
Spring.
It's about damn time you showed up.
Still in my sleep shirt and shorts, I race downstairs to the laundry room. I threw in a load of clothes in the dryer last night before I went to bed. My plan is to wear some of what I washed to school this morning. I grab the empty laundry basket and pull everything out of the dryer. Right away I notice there's a sock missing. I bend over and feel around for it in the dryer. It's not in there. I move over a couple of feet and check the washing machine next. My fingers find the slightly damp sock... plus something else too.
I poke my head inside the machine and shake my head at myself. The white bra I lost weeks ago and the sock are tangled up together, wrapped tightly around the agitator of the washer several times. I remember back when I first noticed the bra was missing, I practically tore my room apart trying to find it. I can't believe it's been in the washing machine this whole time. But, at least I've found it. I throw the bra and sock into the dryer for a few minutes while I eat breakfast. Once they're both dry, I put the bra on underneath a nice sleeveless, white blouse.
Before I know it, I'm suffering through another day at school. Mr. Brown, the English teacher, asks Edward to stand up and present his oral report on The Odyssey. Edward's hair is sticking up a little in the front - and there's an almost bored expression on his face the entire time he speaks - but his voice sounds like the seductive hum of a guitar. I hear a collective sigh coming from at least five girls behind me. Even though Edward isn't the lead singer in a rock 'n roll band or anything like that, apparently he's already got some fans lined up.
When he's finished with his report, the teacher brings up another student to do theirs. Four more students later, I hear the two words I dread the most.
"Bella Swan," Mr. Brown calls out.
Crap.
I'd been hoping I wouldn't have to do the oral report for at least another day. I hate having to speak in front of a lot of people - especially people who can't stand having me around.
On slightly wobbly legs, I walk to the wooden stand by the teacher's desk. I set the papers down while trying to control my nerves.
This won't be hard, I remind myself. You don't even need to look at the notes you brought with you. You've got the whole report memorized. It's not like you have a social life to distract you from your school work.
I take in a small breath and begin. "My topic is: Why is Penelope traditionally considered to be one of the model wives of Ancient Greek literature?"
I lose myself in the subject, ignoring the stares of the twenty or so people in front of me. More than halfway into my report, there's a loud racket in the back of the room. Then, a piercing yelp of pain. I pause and check what's going on. Edward is leaning into the aisle and lifting a textbook away from Adam Wescott's foot. He must have accidentally dropped it... which is surprising since Edward is probably the least clumsy person I've ever met. He's abnormally agile and graceful, like a NFL player who takes ballet classes everyday after football practice.
I clear my throat and resume where I left off.
Around three hours later, I'm in the school cafeteria. I silently let Edward know that I can go to the meadow today. From the opposite side of the room, he nods back in reply. I breathe out a small sigh of relief. A part of me had worried he would back out of our deal since I haven't been to the meadow in so long. I'm sure he has no idea what that hour of listening to his music collection means to me. It's the only time I feel like a semi-normal person.
I pick up my book from off the table and return to reading it. Occasionally, I nibble on the chicken tenders on my lunch tray. But the whispered sound of my name from multiple directions soon draws my eyes away from the pages of The Great Gatsby.
After a quick visual search of the cafeteria, I find Heather Sawyer a couple of tables down from mine. The six people around her are alternating between listening to her talk and laughing at me. I slump down in my chair, shove my nose into my book, and try to block the noise out. Unfortunately, I'm used to being the butt of Heather's jokes. I just have to suck it up for a little while and ignore what's going on. Their interest in me will pass eventually.
But as the afternoon plows on, the more gossip about me spreads. I hear it everywhere I go. Hundreds of eyes follow me as I walk from class to class.
"...Bella Swan can't pass the driver's exam..."
"...She flunked it three different times. Three!"
"...I bet that's why she has to ride a bike to school..."
"...I didn't realize she's so stupid. Word is Chief Swan had to bribe the teachers so she wouldn't have to go to summer school..."
I escape outside at the sound of the final bell and jet over to the bike rack. I'm ready to put some distance between myself and this place. I crouch down on the balls of my feet and begin unlocking my bike from the metal rack.
"Are you kidding me? A padlock on a rusty old bike? Who would bother trying to steal that hunk of junk? It belongs at the dump."
The mask of indifference I normally wear at times like these slips down temporarily. Hearing Heather, a former friend, say even more nasty things about me while I'm at my lowest is like having her rub salt into my already gaping wound.
She saunters over to her car but keeps on throwing out the insults. "I'm surprised it even works. I know if my dad bought me the cheapest transportation he could find, I'd start wondering if he even gave a shit about me." Then she goes to crank her vehicle.
It coughs and dies several times.
The people standing outside, even Heather's close friends, all laugh at her expense. The color of her face suddenly matches the red of her lipstick. Although the tables have turned in my favor, I can't bring myself to enjoy this moment. I know all too well how it feels to be the one everybody else is laughing at.
Eager to get away, I finish unlocking my bike. I hop on the seat and pedal towards the only place that might help me forget about this terrible day.
Approximately twelve minutes later, I hide the bike in some bushy undergrowth and take a walk down the winding dirt path I've known all of my life. It isn't long before I reach the trail's end and find an unexpected but welcome sight.
Spring really has arrived. The entire meadow is carpeted with wildflowers.
Carmine red. Canary yellow. Subtle pink. Flaming orange. Almost everywhere I look I find another color to admire. The grass has improved in health too. It's gone from dull olive to emerald green. But what's most breathtaking is what's at the center of the meadow. The dogwood tree is decorated with hundreds of tiny, cotton-white blossoms. The tree's trunk is a smooth warm brown, a perfect contrast to the flowers hanging above it. And, resting at the base of that trunk, sits a boy with eyes like the morning sun.
Edward watches me as I cross the field. I find a place a few feet away from him and drop to my knees. After a moment's pause, he's the first to speak.
"What would you like to hear?"
This is something he's never asked before. Usually he just puts something on without much thought behind it. But, I'm grateful for the choice today. I don't feel like listening to some happy-go-lucky song after what I just went through.
"Something mellow, I think," I reply in a quiet voice.
He nods once. Like magic, he pulls out a cassette from the black case, as though he already had it in mind. The drums aren't pounding. The guitars aren't squealing. The song is slow, and gentle as the ripples on a pond. It might even be considered a little sad.
It's the perfect music to compliment my current mood.
But as time goes on, our mutual silence starts getting to me. Edward had to have overheard at least some of what was spread around about me today. The thought that he might actually believe those things begins gnawing at and twisting my stomach.
"It's not true," I blurt out of nowhere. I force myself to look at him straight-on. "I've never even taken the driver's exam. I haven't been allowed to yet. So, what everybody is saying about me... it isn't true. At all."
Edward stares at me for several long beats. "I know."
"You... know? How?"
One side of his mouth curves up. It's the tiniest of smiles - but on him - it looks good.
Really good.
Surprisingly good.
"I know it isn't true because the person who started the rumor isn't known for being completely honest," he answers vaguely.
"And, again, you know this how? You've only been going to that school for like a month, and you don't talk to anybody."
He places his hands behind his head and leans back against the dogwood tree. "I have ears, you know. And like I've told you before: I'm an excellent judge of character. Heather is selfish, vain, and thinks the world should revolve around herself alone." He pauses. An eyebrow lifts a bit in my direction. "Besides... anyone with a grain of common sense knows that you're probably the most intelligent person at that medieval torture dungeon masquerading as a public school. Anyone who thinks differently is either lying to themselves or jealous of you. Perhaps even both."
I snort a little at what he said. People like Heather? Jealous? Of me? Not likely. The only reason I get good grades is because on Friday nights when everyone else is hanging out with friends, I'm at home studying. That doesn't sound like anything for them to be jealous about. "Sure, Edward. You're wrong, of course. But, thanks anyway."
His gaze stays locked on my face. "I'm rarely wrong when it comes to things such as this. Though, I suppose you're free to have your own opinion."
My throat goes a little dry. I look away from his probing gold eyes and instead concentrate on the dazzling colors of the meadow. I've been waiting patiently for the day when the flowers would come back. They've always been the highlight of my year. And this time they've shown up exactly when I need them the most.
I hop to my feet and wade through the thick grass. A common daisy catches my attention first. Its petals are milk-white while it's center is a butter yellow. I stoop down and pluck its stem from the ground. Then I pick another. And another.
"What are you doing?" asks a voice directly to my side.
I jump in place, lungs going into overdrive. My hand covers the place over my heart in a lame attempt to calm it down. I didn't expect for Edward to get up from his comfy spot by the dogwood tree. I crane my neck up to look him in the eye. He's got to be at least seven or eight inches taller than me.
"Sorry," he says. There's a barely noticeable frown on his otherwise perfect face.
"No. It's... OK. You just surprised me. I'll be fine." I sound hoarse, like I just gargled with a bucket of sand. I swallow before attempting to speak again. "Um. What did you say to me just now?"
"I was wondering what you were doing."
"Oh." I exhale a long breath as I think of how to answer the question. Then my voice goes pancake flat. "Nothing really. Just trying to brighten my otherwise dull existence."
"By picking flowers?" He says this with obvious doubt.
I roll my eyes. "Yes. By picking flowers. They'll look nice in my room. Haven't you ever brought flowers home to cheer yourself up?"
Edward's forehead lowers, furrowing his brow. "I suppose it's possible." He glances down at the small bundle of flowers laying on my arm. "And it works? Taking home flowers makes you... happy?"
I bend over and pick another one at random. "Well, it's either this, or curling up into the fetal position and crying about how much everything sucks. So... yeah. It works. It's a nice reminder that even with all the ugliness you might come across, there's still a lot of beauty left to appreciate."
The subject matter drops and I go on gathering my bouquet. Edward stands by quietly. I glance up at him every so often. He's mostly watching what I'm doing. Though, occasionally I see him looking east, towards the snowy peaks of the Olympic Mountains. I don't blame him. They're just as beautiful as the flowers in my hand.
"I... need to use the bathroom," he says suddenly. Our gazes cross and hold. "Will you stay right here while I'm gone? It shouldn't take me long."
He looks so serious. Almost anxious.
He must really need to pee.
"Sure. Go ahead. I'm not going anywhere," I reply.
Slowly, he backs away until he reaches the meadow's outer border. He holds up his hand, fingers spread open wide. "Five minutes," he emphasizes.
Then he disappears into the forest.
I return my attention to my task and try not to take too many of the same kind of flower. In order to have them come back next year, some will need to stay in the ground and go to seed.
The bouquet has grown to nearly an armful when I hear footsteps approaching. Edward must be back from his bathroom break. But since I'm shaking off a stubborn aphid from a daffodil, I don't bother looking.
"Here," he says.
I let out a huff. Does he not see that I'm busy? I whip my body around, ready to tear him a new one for interrupting me. Instead, my chin nearly hits my collarbone.
Edward is holding up a flower.
The bottom of the stem to the top of the blossom is only a few inches long. I'm sure it would be easy to miss if you weren't paying attention to your surroundings. But it's extraordinary. The color of the flower's petals are dark blue - almost purple. I imagine kings and queens from ancient times wearing the shade to advertise their great wealth. Yet it's the shape of the flower that has me the most intrigued. Dozens of blue, tube-like spikes are sticking out from the whitish-gray stem. It looks like a plant you'd find on some faraway planet.
"Where did you get this?" I breathe out in wonder.
"I came upon it by accident. I didn't see anything like it here in the meadow. So..." He does a shaking gesture with his hand, encouraging me to take it. "I thought you might want to add it to your collection."
I take the flower from his pale white fingers as carefully as possible. I hold it up and twist it so I can admire it from all sides. "This is beautiful. I've never seen this type of flower before. You'll have to show me where you found it sometime."
Both of Edward's hands slip into his pockets. "I don't think that's a good idea. It was a long walk from here. I didn't exactly stick to the trail."
"Oh." After a moment's thought, I shoot him a scowl of disapproval. "You shouldn't have done that. Lots of hikers have died because they wandered off the trail, Edward. You're lucky you found your way back here on your own."
"Yes. Lucky indeed," he mutters towards the ground.
Since he appears to realize his mistake, I drop it for now. I can't be a hundred percent mad. He did manage to bring me a truly unique flower specimen and still make it out of the woods alive. That's kind of impressive.
I decide to stop with the flower picking and sit back down. Edward takes his usual place under the tree and watches as I fuss with my book bag. Although I place the big bundle of flowers inside of it, the one Edward found is too special to stick in there. I don't want to risk crushing it. I put it inside of an empty side pocket for safekeeping.
Once I'm done, I settle into a more comfortable position and go back to listening to the music. But a couple of minutes into a song, Edward hits the Stop button. The meadow goes quiet. I glance over at him with a questioning expression.
"Bella," he begins. "I heard something about you that made me a little curious."
My back goes straight as an ironing board. "If it's something else you heard Heather say, I don't want to talk about it anymore."
"I assure you this has nothing to do with what Heather may or may not have said," he retorts.
I wet my lips and try to relax. "OK. Then, what is it?"
He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "I heard there's a dance coming up soon... and that you're planning on going to it with someone named Todd. Is this true?"
"Yeah," I drag out. It's weird hearing Edward say Todd's name. It doesn't feel right for some reason. But it's even weirder to think I haven't thought about that dance in days. I was too upset about being away from the meadow for so long than to worry over anything else.
Edward's bottom lip sticks out a bit. "Hmm. That's interesting. I don't believe I know any Todds around here. Do you share a class with him?"
"No. He goes to the Catholic school across town."
"Ah. That explains it then." Edward's head cocks to the side. "I wasn't aware you were seeing anyone."
I fidget in place, unnerved by his observation. "I'm not. To be honest, I don't really know him."
Edward's eyes narrow slightly. "What do you mean, you don't know him?"
I sigh at the question. "I've seen Todd around town but we never spoke until recently. He was at the library a few weeks ago and asked if I wanted to go to the dance with him. I've never been to it, so I said yes. I thought it might be fun to see what it's like, you know?" I shrug an indifferent shoulder. "But I haven't heard a word out of him since that day. I'm sure he's forgotten that he even asked me by now."
"I seriously doubt it," Edward counters.
"It would probably be best if he did though. I'm beginning to think it would be a bad idea for me to go to that dance. If I back out now, I can let Todd know and he'd have plenty of time to find another date."
"Why the sudden change of heart?"
I bite my lip and wish the ground would swallow me whole. Talking about one of my many failings isn't what I had in mind when I came to the meadow today.
When I don't respond, Edward seizes my gaze and refuses to let it drop. "Bella? Tell me... Please?"
His voice goes down smoother than honey. And his eyes. They've frozen me in place. Now I understand how a rabbit feels after they walk out in front of a car's blinding headlights.
I clear my throat and try to blink away the feeling. Hopefully, he didn't notice how I just spaced out on him.
"Uh. There's two reasons, actually," I explain in a small voice. "I'm not sure I could even go to the dance in the first place. I mean, my dad would know something is up if I'm suddenly going out on a Saturday night. And I definitely don't want to be the reason why he finds out about the dance and busts it for playing rock music illegally. So, I would have to come up with a really good excuse to explain why I won't be home that night."
"And your other reason?"
"I... Ugh! This is so embarrassing." My eyes slam shut, tighter than a clam. The only way I can admit this out loud is if I don't look at him. "I don't know how to dance. If I go and make a fool of myself, people like Heather will use it against me for years to come. It's seriously not worth the trouble. I'd be better off just staying at home."
"I see." Edward remains oddly quiet after my confession. I peek out through a tiny crack of one eye and spy on him. He's studying me, just like someone trying to make sense of a Jackson Pollock painting hanging from a museum wall. Eventually, he sits up taller and clasps his hands together on his lap. "What would you say if I were to teach you how?"
My eyelids flap open like window shades. "You know how to dance?"
"Yes. I know a few techniques."
I stare at him like he just said he can fly and fart out rainbows at the exact same time.
There's a touch of amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Is this such a surprise that I have rendered you speechless?"
"I just...never would have imagined you could dance - seeing how you are."
He lifts an eyebrow at me. "And what do you mean by that?"
"Well, to me, you seem more like the type of guy who would stand in the corner because he thinks he's too cool to dance."
He strokes his jaw. "Interesting observation. Though, you should never judge a book by it's cover, Bella. As a dedicated bibliophile, I assumed you would know that by now."
I cross my arms at his smart-ass remark. "But isn't dancing usually considered a social activity? The last time I checked, you haven't exactly been so hot at being friendly. More than half of the people at school are scared to death of you."
"True. Though, nevertheless, I know how to dance, and you do not. So, what do you have to lose?"
I twist my mouth to the side as I think over what he said. "Nothing, I guess."
"That's the spirit," he deadpans back.
"Is it hard? I - um - I don't have the best coordination skills."
He opens his tape case and starts flipping through it. "No. Since it's just a high school dance, there isn't any need for you to learn anything complicated." Out comes another mix tape from the case. He pops it in the boom box and smashes the Play button. A woman's upbeat singing voice comes out of the speakers. The music is fast and fun.
But I'm beyond terrified the second I realize he expects me to dance to it. Right. Now.
My baby he don't talk sweet
He ain't got much to say
But he loves me, loves me, loves me
I know that he loves me anyway
Edward jumps to his feet and moves away from the cover of the dogwood tree. He mouths "Get up" at me once he sees I'm not budging. I try to delay the inevitable by rising from the grass as slow as a snail. He waves an impatient hand to hurry me along.
"Come on. Stand over here," he instructs.
I arrive with a great big frown on my face. He could have at least warned me instead of springing this dance lesson on me so fast. Like, he could have given me some time to get used to the idea first. A few more days (or weeks) would have helped me to prepare for this.
Maybe.
"Now what?" I say in defeat.
"Show me what you can do."
I roll my eyes back so hard that they almost detach. "I can't 'do' anything. I told you I don't know how to dance."
"I'm aware of what you said. But, I want to get an idea of what you might be able to do before I start teaching you anything. Just listen to the music and let the rhythm guide you."
"OK..." I start moving my arms a little from side to side, feeling like an idiot the whole time. This has to be the most awkward situation I've ever been in. The only bright side is that since Edward hates just about everyone at Forks High, at least I don't have to worry about him ratting me out to them about my nonexistent dance moves.
"Bella, you need to relax. You're stiffer than a corpse."
I look down at myself.
Damn it. He's right.
I release a breath and try again. This time I'm a little looser. I'm beginning to get into the song. My arms are swinging all around as I try to match the beat.
Maybe this dancing thing isn't so hard after all...
"Stop moving your arms so much," Edward critiques. "It looks like you're being attacked by a swarm of bees."
I stop moving completely and squint out a glare at him. He stares back without looking even slightly afraid - not that I expected him to or anything.
"What are you thinking?" he murmurs, so low I barely hear it above the music.
"I'm thinking I might miss the good old days... back when you didn't talk."
His smirk nearly takes my breath away. "Sorry, but the truth hurts occasionally. Now, start dancing - but would you mind moving more than just your arms this time?"
"So bossy," I grumble.
Despite his annoying commentary, I do see that he has a point. So when I begin dancing again, I make my feet move too. I'm stepping from side to side while my arms swing a little less enthusiastically.
Let's hear it for the boy
Let's give the boy a hand
Let's hear it for my baby
You know you gotta understand
"That's better," Edward comments. "But your body is still too straight and stiff. It makes it seem like you don't know what you're doing."
"Yeah? Well, guess what? You're right," I snap back.
Edward releases a gruff sigh. He watches me move my limbs the same as before through another stanza of the song. Gradually, his eyes connect with mine. "Um. Do you mind if I show you something?"
I shrug as I continue dancing. "Sure. Do whatever you think is best."
I assume he's going to demonstrate a dance move, like maybe that Moonwalking thing he mentioned a couple of weeks ago. What I don't expect is for him to grab me by the hips and swing them from side to side like a clock's pendulum.
I nearly suffocate on a lung.
"The secret to dancing is allowing your entire body to move freely along to the music," he explains while his hands guide my hips like a puppeteer. He sounds easy-breezy too, as though he's only showing me how to operate a microwave oven. "You'd be missing out on the joy of dancing if you only moved your arms and legs. See how much more natural it feels when you sway your hips too?"
I take a big gulp and silently pray I won't squeal when I open my mouth. "Uh-huh."
He directs my hips movements a few times more. Then he lets go and steps backwards. My stunned body stops dancing. "No. Don't stop," he orders.
I give a flustered head nod and try to recreate what he had showed me. My hips shake. I add in some arm swings. Then my feet start moving a little. Soon, my shoulders join the party too. I almost forget the fact that I don't know what I'm doing. It's kind of fun.
Suddenly, the song comes to an end. I glance over at Edward. He's as immobile as a statue. Plus, he's staring at me with the strangest look on his face.
That can't be a good sign.
I capture my lower lip under a tooth and chew on it. "Uh. So... how bad was it?"
He blinks. I watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "I wouldn't call it bad," he begins, almost hesitantly. "Actually... I thought you did well."
My eyes grow huge. "Nuh-uh. Really?"
He smiles a little. "Yes. Really. You're a fast learner, evidently." Another song begins. It's definitely more of a rock song than what was playing earlier. The drums are deafening. And there's a lot more guitars and less keyboards. Edward dips his head towards me. "Try to dance to this now."
Last night a little dancer
Came dancin' to my door
Last night a little angel
Came pumpin 'cross my floor
I silently agree and dance much like I did before. But I discover the voice of the guy on the tape player and those screaming guitars does something to me. I become lost in the song. Before I know it, the music is dictating exactly how it wants me to move.
In the midnight hour,
she cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell,
she cried more, more, more
"Very good," I hear Edward say.
His voice wakes me up from the spell I've been placed under. Slowly, I come to see that he's circling around me, like the hands on a watch. His eyes graze over my body, up and down. I shiver, as though I can feel them touching me. He's teaching me how to dance, so of course he has to monitor what I'm doing.
So, why am I starting to become more nervous than ever before?
His fingers snap along perfectly to the beat as he walks. He smiles again. Then, before I can take another staggered breath, he does a spin and appears right in front of me. He copies my dance movements, his hips rocking just like mine.
This time my heart drops dead at my feet.
"What are you doing?" I gasp.
"Giving you an idea of what dancing with a partner is like. I'd imagine you might dance with Todd at some point that night. Correct?"
"I-I guess."
"Then this will be good practice for you."
Edward's so close, I can smell him. It's like spring, and something else that makes my head spin. Perfect looks and a fantastic scent? Great. Just great. Now my body doesn't know what the heck to do. What does he wash his clothes with? Pheromones?
"Yeah. Good practice," I mumble.
"Hey. You're slowing down," he scolds lightly. "Keep on going."
I gulp hard before I do what he wants. My eyes stay pinned to him while we dance. He's very good. It's almost hypnotic the way he moves. I allow the music and his easy grace to carry away my nervous doubt.
I'd sell my soul, for you, babe
For money to burn, with you
I'd give you all, and have none, babe
Justa, justa, justa, justa have you here by me
The more I dance, the braver I become. Eventually, I even alternate the pattern I'm moving in. He nods his approval. It isn't long before I'm smiling from ear to ear.
Towards the end of the song, Edward stops on a dime and doesn't move a step more. He's staring high above my head, both brows sewn together.
I glance up. The clouds have thinned in the last several minutes. I spot patches of blue sky. Once that last huge cloud passes by, we might get lucky and end up having a beautiful sunset to enjoy this evening.
"Bella, we'd better stop now," he says. I whip my head back around. "I just realized that I need to get home earlier today. I'm sorry."
The exertion from dancing has my lungs burning a little. "I understand," I pant. "I should probably do the same." He walks away to collect his black cassette case and tape player from underneath the tree. "I'm kind of glad we stopped," I say to his back. "I'm too exhausted to dance anymore. You're a strict teacher, Mr. Cullen."
"I should assign you homework for that remark," he says dryly.
"Oh yeah?" I challenge in return. "Like what? Practicing how to dance in my bedroom with only my teddy bear as a partner?"
His eyes squint in a musing sort of way. "Hmm. That's a good idea. If you have a video camera, I'd appreciate it if you would record yourself doing that exactly. And please make a copy for me. I have a VCR at home and ran out of new comedies to watch."
"Smart-ass," I whisper under my breath.
From twenty feet away, he breaks into a smirk. I don't understand why. It's not like he could have heard what I said.
An hour later, I dig out a vase from underneath the kitchen sink. I fill it with water, stick in the bouquet of wildflowers I picked earlier, and place it near my bedroom window. It's a gorgeous floral display. It really cheers up my room. But like all living things, the flowers will eventually wilt with age. Their beauty will fade. And in a few days time, they will all be dead.
I unzip the royal blue flower that Edward found today from my bag's side pocket. Carefully, I lay it between the pages of last year's telephone book and weigh it down. While the other flowers I gathered will wither away soon, this one will be pressed and preserved. It won't look exactly the same as it did back when it was fresh, of course. The texture and color of the petals will change. But, I don't care. All that matters is that the flower will stay with me and remain beautiful for years to come.
Maybe even forever.
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Edward
The sun breaks free from the clouds mere seconds after Bella rides away on her bike. I slide into my car, put on a hat and gloves to stop the sunlight from reflecting off my skin, and follow her undetected as best as I can. Once she turns safely on to her street, I drive towards home.
Esme is armed with a Dust Buster when I step into the house. Today she has chosen to keep herself busy by cleaning a living room that's already spotless.
"Edward! It's so nice to see you back home so early. It isn't even five o'clock yet."
I don't know what to say to that, so I only answer with a grunt of acknowledgement.
Esme tilts her tiny nose up and delicately sniffs the air. Her normally easy-going face transforms into one of alarm. "Bella smells heavy on you today. No trouble, I hope?"
I pause to analyze the question. Trouble? Yes. There's plenty of that going on at the moment... just not the kind she's thinking of.
"Bella is fine. I haven't hurt her," I say with lowered eyes.
I detect relief within Esme's thoughts. She sends out a motherly smile in return. "You're doing so well. A month ago you thought you'd kill her. Now you go to school with her every day. I'm proud of how far you've come in such a short time."
"Mmm."
"Edward? Are you all right? You sound a little distracted."
I force myself to look at her. "It's nothing to concern yourself with, Esme. I'm fine. I just need some time to myself to think."
"Of course, dear. I don't blame you there. It's been a trying time for us, hasn't it? What with James and all those poor people dying." Esme zips to my side and gently pats my back. "Why don't you go upstairs to your room and relax for a while? Your shift doesn't start for at least another three hours."
I nod and walk at a human pace up the stairs, heading towards the room on the third floor. But what Esme suggested is impossible. There will be no "relaxing" for me tonight - or possibly ever again. I have far too much to worry about now.
I'm in love with a human.
And that isn't good news at all for her.
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A/N- (⊙_⊙)
Songs used in this chapter-
Let's Hear It For The Boy by Deniece Williams. This song was featured in a movie from the '80s. I think it's got Foot and Loose in the title.
Rebel Yell by Billy Idol. I sincerely miss this guy's style. Who else could pull off bleach-blonde hair, black leather pants, and a permanently curled lip? Can we start a petition to bring his music back? More, more, more! (Like in the song. Get it?)
Next Chapter- I'm going to be cruel (and possibly misleading) and give you an intentionally vague description of what to expect. Ready? Here it goes. Edward gets caught red-handed. That big vein on Chief Swan's forehead threatens to burst. And, something Bella does stuns Edward.
Thanks for reading! :-)