Chapter 5: Blood Type
I was in such a daze when I arrived in English, I didn't register that Ms Mason was already taking attendance. Beau had to yank me down into my seat beside him and pinch me when she called my name a second time in a disparaging tone. I flushed as our classmates tittered.
"What did Edward want?" Beau asked in a whisper as she continued down the list.
I glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "He heard I'm going to Seattle and he wants to drive me."
His eyes widened. "Seriously? What did you say?"
"I said yes." Technically, I hadn't said anything, but he didn't need that much detail.
"Why?" He sounded as perplexed as I felt.
"I don't know. Have you ever tried arguing with him when he gets all…" I searched for the word. "Intense?"
"Can't say I've ever seen that. Are you really going to go with him?" He seemed concerned now, and I couldn't understand that at all.
I shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. What was Edythe in such a good mood about?" Hello, Deflection, my old friend.
Before Beau could answer, Ms Mason's voice cut across the classroom. "Mr and Miss Swan, since you both seem to have so much to say this morning, can one of you tell us what literary device is most prominent in the passage on the board?"
Blushing again, I sat up straighter and cast my eyes across the projection. It wasn't hard to identify.
"Pathetic fallacy." I said… at exactly the same time as Beau.
The classroom erupted with laughter; even Ms Mason was fighting a smile as she tried to regain order.
"I did say just one of you, but at least you're both paying attention. Now, Miss Swan, can you explain what pathetic fallacy is?"
I was supremely confident. English was by far my best subject, and she wasn't about to catch me out. "A form of personification which attributes human emotions to non-human objects. It's most commonly used to refer to weather descriptions that reflect a character's feelings or the tone of a scene."
"Good." Ms Mason seemed almost startled but recovered quickly. "And Mr Swan, what is the pathetic fallacy at work here?"
Beau did not hesitate. "There's a thunderstorm, so the protagonist is probably feeling angry or worried. The fact that it's off in the distance could also indicate a sense of impending doom."
"Excellent, thank you both. Now, let's get into our reading. Miss Newton, could you pick up from where we left off yesterday?"
The class went by without further incident, as did the rest of the morning. McKayla had taken my advice and asked Jeremy to the dance, and now both of them were riding high on excitement. Angela, Tyler and Logan were tagging along unattached, and the group was now plotting a way to get their parents to club together for a limo rental. McKayla was also buzzing about the weather report for the coming weekend, which was promising a break in the rain that would finally make the beach trip possible. As far as I knew, the whole group and then some had already promised they were going, including my brother and I. I was struggling to muster much enthusiasm for the idea; I vaguely remembered the pebbly expanse of First Beach, not at all what I considered beachy. They should have sand and sun and heat. Even if there was no rain, this weekend would still have the cold snap of early March in Washington.
My mind kept circling around the conversation in the parking lot. Part of me was genuinely worried that I'd hallucinated the whole thing and the next time I saw him I would be treated to the same indifference of the last month. I was a little surprised to find that that was the last thing I wanted. Even as he infuriated me, even with as much as I thought I was coming to hate him, I couldn't deny the impact of his intense eyes, his hypnotising voice, the openness of his words. When he said he didn't want to stay away from me… just remembering it made my heart skip a beat.
I was so distracted that I barely registered the walk to the cafeteria, and I caught only the gist of McKayla's chatter as we joined the line. I did notice that Edythe hadn't met us at the door as she usually did; when I checked our table, she was already sat beside Beau with her back to me. My stomach sank a step further when my eyes shifted without permission to the Cullens' table and found only four figures seated there, the other bronze head conspicuously absent. A prickle of what I could only call worry danced across my skin, completely illogical and yet undeniable. I found myself wondering if he had gone home, if there was something wrong, and the thought almost… hurt. My appetite suddenly abandoning me, I bought a bottle of lemonade and prayed that my brother wouldn't be too overbearing about it. At least not in front of Edythe.
"Edward Cullen is staring at you again," Jeremy said, and from the first syllable my unfocused mind completely cleared. "I wonder why he's sat by himself."
I scanned the room again and sure enough, there he was, sat alone on a table against the back wall, as far from his family as he could get. He was waiting to catch my eye, and once he had, he beckoned me over with a crooked index finger. As if that weren't unbelievable enough, he accompanied the gesture with a smile and a wink. I could feel that my mouth was hanging open.
"Does he mean you?" McKayla asked, sounding as dumbfounded as I felt – somehow it was a little insulting.
I pulled myself together and shrugged. "Maybe he needs help with his Biology homework. I'd better go see what he wants."
I could feel their eyes on me as I walked towards him, and many more besides as people noticed where I was going. I did my best to ignore them, stopping at the chair opposite Edward.
"Will you sit with me today?" he asked gently, apparently sensing my hesitation.
I half-nodded and sat cautiously, trying to read his face. It was unreal, dreamlike in its beauty; I waited for darkness to descend around us, for him to turn cold and walk away. But nothing changed and he went on smiling, waiting for me to speak first.
"This is a bit of a change," I ventured, twisting my soda bottle nervously between my hands.
"Well…" He paused, then finished in a rush. "I decided that as long as I'm going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."
Apparently, he had decided to stop making sense today. Not that he was a paragon of logical behaviour at the best of times, but this was especially confusing.
"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, a little afraid of the answer.
He just smiled, looking down at the table. "Just thinking out loud." Then he looked up at me through his impossibly long eyelashes and abruptly changed the subject. "I think your friends may be angry with me for stealing you away."
"Is that what you're doing?"
The smile turned downright wicked. "Oh yes. And I may not give you back. What do you think of that?"
His golden eyes befuddled me, and I blurted out the truth. "I'm trying to understand why. What's changed your mind about me?"
He gave that question a long moment of deep thought. "I can't say exactly. I don't think my mind has changed. I've just given up."
"Given up?"
"Trying to be good," he clarified. "Trying to stay away from you. I've decided simply to do as I please and take what consequences may come my way." There was a touch of steel in his eyes as he finished, though his voice stayed casual.
I frowned and twisted off the cap of my lemonade. "There are consequences to being my friend? Like what?"
Edward shook his head, his smile turning wry. "I always say too much when I talk to you. It isn't helping matters, and yet I can't seem to stop."
"I don't understand any of it," I assured him.
"That's what I'm counting on."
"So, just to be clear, we're friends now?"
"Hmm… Friends…" He pursed his lips slightly, as if considering the word itself.
"Or not," I mumbled, taking a swig of my drink. The sweet liquid settled somewhat unsteadily in my empty stomach.
He grinned again. "Well, I suppose we ought to try, if only for Edythe and Beau. But I'm really not a good friend for you."
"So you've said. Many times." I hated the way my shoulders slumped; he couldn't miss how disappointed I looked, how obviously it mattered what he thought of me.
"I have to," he insisted, a true warning in his tone. "It doesn't seem to be sinking in. A smart person would want to be as far from me as possible."
"Oh, so if I don't run screaming, I'm not smart? That's nice."
"I'm sorry, that wasn't what I meant to imply at all." He was genuinely apologetic, and it overwhelmed me again. So it was the truth that came out once more when he asked, "What are you thinking?"
"I'm trying to work out what you are."
He tensed, but otherwise maintained his serene expression. "Any theories?"
I felt my cheeks turn pink. I did have theories… ridiculous ones that belonged on the pages of Beau's old comic books. No way was I telling him that.
"Tell me one?" he pressed when I didn't answer.
I just shook my head furiously.
He sighed. "That is really very frustrating, you know."
My eyes narrowed. "Frustrating, really? Wow, I can't imagine what that would be like. For someone not to tell you every little thing they're thinking, all the while making cryptic remarks that make absolutely no sense and seem like they're designed to keep you up at night trying to unravel what they could possibly mean. Nope, no idea what that feels like."
He grimaced – I'd hit a nerve.
I was also on a roll. "Not to mention, if that person also did a wide variety of bizarre things, apparently hating you on sight, then being perfectly cordial, then saving your life in a completely impossible way, then acting like you're invisible, and never explaining any of it, even the parts he promised to. Not frustrating at all."
"You have quite the temper, don't you?"
"I don't like hypocrites. Or double standards."
Our eyes locked, and we stared each other down, as if daring the other to break. Surprisingly, it was him; his eyes suddenly cut to something over my shoulder, and he smirked.
"Your brother seems to think I'm being unpleasant to you – he's debating whether to swoop in and enact a rescue."
I squared my shoulders. "Beau knows I can take care of myself."
"Yes, he does," he agreed. "But he's also your brother, and he hates to see you upset. I'm afraid I've become particularly irksome to him over the last few weeks."
I couldn't help glancing over my shoulder at Beau. He wasn't even looking at us, though plenty of people were. His head was bent low toward Edythe, locked in some private conversation with her.
"You can really tell all of that?" I asked sceptically.
"Yes. I told you, most people are easy to read."
"But not me."
"No, not you." He was especially thoughtful. "I wonder why."
I took another swig of lemonade to get away from his intense eyes.
"Aren't you hungry?" he asked abruptly.
I didn't mention that my stomach was too knotted for any kind of food; even the lemonade was almost too much. "Not today. What about you?" The table in front of him was empty.
"No, I'm not hungry." That made him smile, like I'd told a joke but only he understood it.
There was something I wanted to ask, a request that had been formulating in the back of my mind, but I wasn't sure if we were at the point where I could voice it without making him angry, or sad. Deciding I would never know if I didn't try, I said, "So, as my friend, could you do something for me?"
"Like what?" He frowned, guarded.
"It's just a little thing," I assured him, though to me it really wasn't.
He gestured for me to proceed.
"Can you tell me when you next plan on ignoring me for my own good? At least give me some warning, so I'm prepared?"
He smiled, looking like he wanted to laugh. "I think I can manage that."
"Thank you."
"And may I have just one thing in return?"
"Just one."
"Tell me one of your theories."
Damn, he was crafty. "No way."
"You promised one answer," he pointed out. "It's only fair."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Hardly. You've broken promises to me. Besides," I looked down, turning pink again. "You'll laugh."
"I won't," he said softly, and when I glanced up his golden eyes were intent and his expression gently pleading. Then he chuckled slightly to himself. "I was going to say I promise, but I understand that from me, that may not be enough. So I swear, I will not laugh."
I was locked into his gaze, unable to look away even if I wanted to. My mind went completely blank and I had to blink a few times. He saw the effect he was having and doubled down, leaning toward me, still open and earnest.
"Please tell me just one theory," he murmured, and his voice had the impact of a truth serum.
"Uh… Refugee from a distant alien planet?"
His soft smile abruptly switched to a smirk. "You think I'm Superman?"
My face blazed red; I shrank back into my jacket and picked up my bag, standing to leave. "You said you wouldn't laugh."
"I'm not laughing," he insisted, making an obvious effort to rearrange his features and reaching out one hand, though he didn't touch me. "Please, don't go."
I settled back in my seat, but kept my bag on my lap, my arm through the strap as I reached for my drink again.
"I'm sorry for upsetting you," Edward said softly as I took another swig. He looked down at his hands, at the cap from my drink that I hadn't noticed him steal. "It was just the thought of me as a superhero… nothing could be further from the truth."
I tilted my head to the side, an unexpected wave of sadness washing over me as I realised, he genuinely believed that. "You think you're the bad guy?"
His smile was sad too. "You don't?"
I thought hard about my answer, sensing that it was very important that I word it just right. I considered everything he'd told me, everything he'd implied, and everything I'd seen of him in the last few months. My heart sped slightly as a few things fell into place in my brain.
"I think… I think you could be dangerous," I began hesitantly. "And maybe kind of frightening, if you wanted to be."
He nodded, and his expression was almost resigned, as if he knew that was what I would say. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite identify, though.
"But you aren't bad," I finished softly, just as certain of this as I was of the danger. "No, I don't think you could ever really be bad."
"You're wrong." He was certain of that. He stared at the bottle cap as he span it on the tabletop and the silence stretched between us. A part of me wanted to argue with him, but as I looked away to give myself some clarity of thought without the distraction of his perfect face, I realised that most of the cafeteria was empty. I jumped up, scanning the room; his siblings were gone, as were most of my friends, though I could see Beau almost at the door, turning around to look back at me.
"We have to go, we're going to be late for Biology," I said, swinging my bag onto my shoulder and downing the last of my drink.
Edward kept spinning the bottle cap. "You go, I'm ditching today."
"Why?" I asked, a little startled. I knew the Cullens sometimes skipped school, but that was usually when the weather was nice and their parents made plans, at least according to Beau. They'd never struck me as the type to randomly ditch.
But Edward shrugged and said, "It's healthy every now and then."
I hesitated, part of me really, really wanting to ditch too. But the bell rang, and I was too much of a goody-two-shoes to break the rules.
"I guess I'll see you later then," I said quickly and hurried away. When I glanced back, he waved, but didn't make any other move.
I managed to avoid my brother, who was heading in the opposite direction to me. The thin herd of students were all either half-running to get to class on time or strolling casually, not caring to be late; I was firmly in the first category. I arrived last of my class, but somehow before Mr Banner, and as I got settled, I could feel more than one curious gaze on me. I was far too distracted with playing the past hour over in my head – I had so many new questions.
Then Mr Banner came in, immediately calling us to order as he put four cardboard boxes down on McKayla's desk at the front.
"A little something different today, guys," he started, looking pleased with himself. "The Red Cross are having a blood drive next weekend in Port Angeles, and I thought it would helpful for you all to know your blood type, should you be moved to donate. Those who aren't eighteen yet will need parental permission, I have slips on my desk if you want one. Now, here's how it works, and please pay attention, we're working with sharps today."
My stomach flipped as soon as the word 'blood' left his mouth. Beau had had enough incidents over the years to be formally excused from this kind of activity, but clearly no one had thought to tell them about me. As Mr Banner gave instructions and demonstrated what to do on McKayla, I tried to fight back the nausea to no avail; my forehead beaded with sweat, my stomach rolled, and sound dulled as a ringing started in my ears. When he held up McKayla's bloodied indicator card, black spots bloomed in my vision and I had to put my head down on my desk. I heard the sounds of my classmates beginning their work as if through water and concentrated on taking deep breathes through my mouth.
"Bella, are you alright?" came Mr Banner's startled voice form somewhere above my head.
"I already know my blood type, Mr Banner," I said weakly without lifting my head, afraid of what I would see and desperately wishing I'd taken the chance to ditch when it was presented to me.
"Do you feel faint?"
"Yes, sir."
"Can someone please take Bella over to the nurse?" he called to the class at large, and I dimly heard Angela's soft voice volunteer. She even packed my stuff and put my bag on her shoulder before gently helping me out of my seat. The surge of gratitude I felt was not quite enough to overwhelm the dizziness, but it was enough to get me out of that godforsaken classroom.
Angela led me gently across campus toward the main office. As soon as I thought we were out of sight of building four, I stopped my slow shuffle. "Can I sit down for a minute?"
"Of course, here." She helped me sit on the damp grass beside the path. "Don't worry, I didn't stick my finger yet."
"Thank you," I breathed, slumping over on my side and laying my head on the wet greenery. The cold finally seemed to make a dent in the spinning, as did closing my eyes.
"Bella, you've gone all pale." Angela sounded a little panicked. "Should I go get someone?"
Before I could answer, another voice called my name from a distance, and I screwed my eyes shut. Please, no, not him. Anyone but him.
But the next moment, Edward's voice rang out again, much closer. "Is she alright? Is she hurt?" He sounded as worried as Angela.
"I… I don't know," she stuttered, clearly flustered. "We're blood typing, but she didn't even prick herself, just put her head down and went limp. I was taking her to the nurse, and she wanted to stop and now..."
"Bella, can you hear me?" His voice was much closer now, maybe half a foot from my ear.
"Go 'way," I groaned by way of reply.
He sighed, just a touch of a laugh to the sound.
"Should I go get the nurse?" Angela asked.
"No, I'll take her the rest of the way. You can go back to class."
Part of me really wanted Angela to argue with him. Of all the people I did not want to see me in this state, Edward was right at the top of the list. Maybe slightly behind Beau or my parents, but not by much. Unfortunately, Angela was either far too accommodating or far too overwhelmed by Edward or both; I heard her hand over my bag and offer her hope that I would feel better soon. Then the ground abruptly disappeared from beneath me. My eyes flew open to find that Edward was carrying me in his arms, as easily as if I weighed no more than my backpack, which was hanging over his shoulder.
I couldn't contain a groan as the motion of his walk caused me to sway in his arms, and I was suddenly profoundly grateful that I had nothing substantial in my stomach. Perhaps I would manage not to throw up all over him. Still, I closed my eyes and squeezed my lips shut.
"So, you aren't fond of blood, I take it," Edward said conversationally, sounding amused for some reason that I didn't have the brain-space to figure out right now.
"Put me down," I moaned weakly, reaching out to push against his chest. It was very firm under my hand; that skinny build was disguising some serious muscle. I also realised that as securely I was held against that chest, there was a fraction of an inch of space between us.
He didn't answer and then we were somehow inside, though I had no idea how he had opened the door while holding me like this. I heard Mr Cope make a startled noise.
"She's just a little faint," Edward reassured him.
I cracked my eyes open enough to watch Mr Cope hurry around the counter to open the door to the nurse's office. Edward carried me in – cue more startled noises from the nurse, who had been sat at her desk reading a novel – and laid me out on the cot. Then he quickly retreated to the far corner of the room.
"They're blood typing in Biology," he explained. "She felt faint, then got halfway here and passed out."
"I did not pass out," I argued, but there was no strength in the words.
The nurse came to look me over and her expression quickly turned knowing. "You wouldn't happen to be Beau Swan's sister, would you?"
I nodded.
"This happens to you a lot, too?"
"Yes ma'am."
She smiled kindly. "Then I'll just grab you a cold compress and you can wait here for it to pass." She eyed Edward as she turned to go. "You can head back to class, hon."
"I'm supposed to stay with her," he said with such confidence that even I half-believed it. I was reminded of Edythe telling us that her brother was ill – exactly the same tone.
The nurse bustled off to get what she needed, leaving us alone. I closed my eyes and put my arm over them, trying to block out the fluorescent lights above me.
"You were right," I mumbled.
"Generally," he said, without hesitation or modesty. "But did you have something specific in mind?"
"Ditching is healthy," I admitted, doing my best to breathe evenly.
He chuckled softly, and then there was a moment of silence before he spoke. "You had me worried for a moment there. Poor Angela looked utterly terrified."
I cringed guiltily. "I'll have to find a way to make it up to her. She's a really good friend."
"She is a very kind person," he agreed, sounding thoughtful.
A thought had occurred to me too. "So where did you come from? Weren't you ditching?"
"I still have to ferry my siblings home. I was just in the parking lot, listening to some music in my car."
Before I could come up with a suitable response to that surprisingly banal statement, I heard the click of the door opening. I moved my arm and cracked my eyes open to watch the nurse return and lay the cold pack across my forehead. The cold chased away the last of the spinning and finally put a solid dent in the ringing and nausea.
"There now. You're looking a lot better already, dear."
"I think I'm okay, actually," I said, sitting up. She looked like she wanted to make me lie back down, and I thought I saw Edward twitch towards me slightly too. But the door opened again and Mr Cope's head appeared.
"We've got another one," he warned, and held the door open to reveal McKayla staggering under the weight of Lee Stephens, a boy from our Biology class now sporting a distinctly sallow face. I quickly hopped off the cot and backed against the wall beside Edward to let them by.
"Oh no," he muttered suddenly. "Bella, go back into the office, quickly."
I caught the smell before I could ask and ducked through the open door as it swung closed, unnervingly aware of Edward following me out. When I turned back to him, he was startled.
"You listened to me."
"I smelled the blood," I said, my nose scrunching. Lee had definitely got his turn with a lancet, and I knew McKayla had been bleeding.
Edward frowned. "People can't smell blood."
I shrugged. "I can. Beau too, we both get sick from it. It's like rust and salt, you know, harsh and coppery."
He stared at me with an expression I couldn't quantify
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing. I knew blood made Beau feel unwell, but I suppose I just wasn't expecting that would be the source of the issue. Or that you both would suffer from it."
I smiled, a little disbelieving myself. "Well that's a first. Usually people hear 'twins' and assume we're clones or something."
Before he could reply, the infirmary door opened again and McKayla came out. She glanced between the two of us speculatively, a note of excited nervousness in her look at Edward.
"You're looking better, Bella," she commented, tilting her head slightly toward Edward with a meaningful eyebrow raise.
I nodded, feeling a little uncomfortable. "I am. Just keep your hand in your pocket, if you don't mind."
"It's not bleeding anymore," she assured me. "Are you coming back to class?"
I winced. "There's no point, is there? I'd have to come right back."
"Right, duh." I definitely couldn't miss the implication of the look she gave us now; in her eyes, I probably didn't need an excuse to ditch if it meant spending time with Edward. "Are you guys still coming to the beach this weekend, or is Beau busy with Edythe?"
"No, we're both going to be there," I reassured her. "I think Edythe has plans with her sisters." I glanced at Edward for confirmation and he nodded very slightly.
"Cool." She smiled, then more nervously added, "Did you want to come along, Edward? We're meeting at my parents' store at ten on Saturday."
To my surprise, Edward looked a little interested. "Where exactly are you all headed?"
"First Beach, down at La Push," I chimed in. I found a part of me really wanted him to say yes, which was disorienting – less than 24 hours ago I had been planning his death and now I wanted to spend the day with him.
But I was quickly disappointed; his face went somewhat blank and he shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't. I've just remembered, Jasper and I are hiking the Goat Rocks Wilderness with our dad this weekend while the girls go shopping. We're actually heading out tomorrow."
"That's too bad," I said, and meant it, weirdly. Although I did wonder how he could have forgotten a plan that had him missing an entire day of school.
McKayla was frowning just a little. "Goat Rocks... isn't that south of Mount Rainier? I've heard my dad warning people away from that area, there's a lot of bear activity up there."
"We know our way around." Edward was supremely confident. "We'll be fine. But thank you for your concern, McKayla."
He smiled at her, and she very visibly swooned.
"Um... well... okay then. Have fun, I guess. See you in Gym, Bella."
She made her way to the door, a little unsteadily, but still managed to turn back and give me one more significant look. I knew there would be questions when I saw her again.
"Gym," I moaned, suddenly realising that this hellish afternoon wasn't over yet.
"I have a plan," Edward murmured reassuringly, suddenly right by my ear. "Just sit down over there and look pallid."
Not difficult; I wasn't quite fully recovered yet and that, on top of my naturally pale skin, was sure to have me looking wan and weak. I crossed to the wobbly chairs against the wall, trying to drag my feet just a little without tripping. Once I was sat down, I tipped my head back against the wall, genuinely tired from the whole ordeal.
With my eyes closed, I heard Edward get Mr Cope's attention and ask him to excuse me from Gym.
"I'll make sure she gets home," he insisted. "And I'll make sure her brother knows what's going on."
"Alright, if you're sure," Mr Cope said, not sounding completely convinced. "Do you need to be excused too?"
"I have Mr Goff, he won't mind. Eleanor's in that class too, so she can catch me up on anything I miss."
"Okay, all taken care of. You feel better, Bella."
I nodded weakly and stood up, trying to make it look like a struggle. Edward looked amused.
"Do you need carrying again?"
"I can walk," I assured him, and proved it by leading the way out. He caught the door just as I started to heave it open, doing most of the work and holding it for me. I turned my face up into the fine mist of moisture in the air, for once enjoying the freshness as the last of the sweat on my forehead washed away.
"Thanks. This whole thing was almost worth it to miss Gym," I said.
"Glad to be of service," he replied, smiling just slightly. "Although perhaps next time we can come up with something less dramatic, hm?"
I shrugged. "I guess. Can I have my bag back?"
He handed it over, though he looked almost reluctant to do so. "I hope you enjoy your beach day this weekend. I'm sure you've been missing the sun."
"I have," I agreed, then bit my lip and added nervously. "I don't suppose you could rearrange that hiking trip and come along too? You'd definitely be welcome."
His smile tightened and he shook his head. "I really can't, Earnest and Jasper have been waiting for some guy time for far too long. But thank you for the invitation."
The casual words clashed with the deliberate, formal way he said them. 'Guy time' for Beau and Charlie meant a fishing trip or watching baseball games on the flatscreen. I couldn't imagine Edward and his brother doing anything so ordinary. They were too otherworldly.
"Maybe another time then," I conceded. "You enjoy yourself."
We had been walking and talking and were now near the parking lot. I turned to head for the truck; Beau had the keys, but we only locked it overnight – no one in their right mind would try to steal it – and I could at least sit in the cab and get ahead on my homework while I waited for him. A tug on the back of my jacket brought me to a halt.
Edward was glaring at me again, angry, a fistful of my coat in his hand. "Where are you going?"
I frowned, confused. "Um… I was going to go sit in the truck."
"I said I would take you home," he insisted. "You don't need to wait for Beau."
"It's only an hour, I'll manage. Besides, he'll worry about where I've gone."
"I'll let Edythe know and she'll tell him." He started pulling me along towards his car, shifting his grip to the strap of my backpack that was hanging loose. I stumbled but just about kept my footing, the image of a caveman dragging his conquered mate back to a cave by her hair flashing through my mind. My opinion of him, which had been drifting in a positive direction, circled back around to irritated.
"You have serious control issues, you know," I griped as he let go of me at the passenger door of the Volvo.
"It's open. Get in," was his only response as he climbed into the driver's seat.
I contemplated making a run for it, then decided that was a bad idea. He would probably just catch me, if I didn't fall over first. I climbed in stiffly as he started the car, fiddling with the heating and music. I fastened my seatbelt.
"You really don't need to do this," I tried again. He didn't respond, instead pulling his phone out of his pocket and tapping rapidly at the keys. Before I could comment on his rudeness, he turned the screen to face me, revealing a text chain to Edythe that mainly consisted of times, places and other unintelligible shorthand. The last message was more detailed.
Bella sick. Not serious but taking her home. Tell Beau.
"Happy?" he asked.
"No," I answered honestly. "But I guess it'll have to do."
He sighed but put the phone away and shifted into gear. We were out of the parking lot and on the road with neither of us saying another word. I was content to keep it that way, but then I recognised the music playing and couldn't help myself.
"You listen to Debussy?"
He sounded equally surprised when he replied. "Yes. You know him?"
"A little. My mom likes classical music, Claire de Lune is one of my favourites."
"Mine too." That made him thoughtful.
I stared out of the window, watching the world go by much faster than I was used to. The car was deceptively smooth, difficult to tell its speed until you looked outside. The rain was starting to fall harder, the wipers swishing back and forth to keep the windscreen clear.
"Tell me about your mother," Edward said out of nowhere.
I arched an eyebrow at him. "Don't you already know?"
He shrugged. "Beau doesn't talk about her much, and I've never been inclined to ask."
"Of course not," I muttered, shaking my head. I was beginning to think that Edward deliberately ignored everyone around him. Everyone but me, apparently. At least for today.
To his credit, he had the decency to look chagrined, and I decided I might as well indulge him.
"She looks a lot like me, but older of course, and prettier. She's got blue eyes like Beau – or, I guess, his are like hers. He takes after her with his confidence too, they're both braver than me. I'm a lot more like Charlie. Mom can be forgetful and a little irresponsible. Kind of eccentric and experimental. She's my best friend." I trailed off, suddenly sad.
The car stopped as he pulled over. When I glanced out of the window, I could see the vague shape of my house through the now driving rain. It had been a much shorter drive than I'd been anticipating. Edward looked frustrated.
"How old are you, Bella?"
"Seventeen," I replied, confusion making it come out sounding almost like a question.
"You don't seem it." It was almost an accusation.
I laughed, and he tipped his head sideways curiously.
"My mom says I was born thirty-five and get more middle-aged every year." I laughed again, then after a pause added, "You seem older than seventeen too."
He sidestepped the comment and asked another question. "Why did she marry Phil?"
I had to think about that, not least because I was surprised that he'd remembered my step-dad's name.
"Renee is… kind of young for her age, if that makes sense. I think Phil helps her feel even younger. And she loves him like crazy, of course." I didn't fully understand it, but I didn't have to.
"You approve then?"
"Yes, not that it matters," I arched an eyebrow at him, a little confused by the question. "He makes her happy, and that's what I want for her."
He was watching my face very carefully, as if trying his hardest to read something hidden there. "You talk like you're the parent, not her."
I shrugged. "I guess it feels like that sometimes. But I don't mind. She is who she is."
"You're very good to her," he mused. Then he smiled. "And what about your brother? Do you approve of his choice?"
I smiled back widely. "Oh yeah. Edythe's great, and I'm not just saying that because you're her brother. Honestly, I wasn't sure what to expect, but now that I've met her, I can see the appeal." I blushed, realising how my words could be interpreted. "Not in that way, I don't have a crush on her or anything, I just mean I can see why he would like her so much."
He was searching my face again. "Would they both do the same for you, I wonder? Accept your choice, no matter who it was?"
I shrugged. "I've never really dated, so I guess I don't know. But I hope they'd be happy for me, if I was happy."
He considered that thoughtfully.
"What about you?" I asked when the silence grew uncomfortable. "You know all about my family and I still feel like I don't know much about yours."
"What do you want to know?" he asked cautiously.
"Well, I know the Cullens adopted you guys. What happened to your birth parents?"
"They died a long time ago. I don't remember them very clearly, and neither does Edythe. Carine and Earnest have been our parents for so long, it's hard to remember a time before them."
"You love them." It wasn't a question. His tone made it obvious.
"Yes," he agreed, smiling. "They're very good people."
"What about the others? I think Beau told me your twins are fostered, but Eleanor and Alice?"
"My siblings are going to be quite perturbed if I leave them standing in this downpour or force them all to pile into my sister's car," he pointed out.
I felt bad to have kept him so long, but I really didn't want to leave. "Wow, is it already 3:30?"
"Almost."
"I guess I'll see you on Monday, then," I hedged, hoping but not expecting another lunch invitation. "Enjoy Goat Rocks."
He smirked. "I'm sure I will. And you enjoy First Beach, but… could you do something for me?"
His eyes were burning again, and I could only nod.
"This will probably sound harsher than I mean it to, but you seem to be a little bit of an accident magnet. Will you please try not to get washed out to sea or anything like that?"
I couldn't tell if I was annoyed because he assumed that was something I would do, or because it was actually very likely.
"Don't worry," I said a little snippily. "Beau will be there to keep an eye on me."
"He's not much better," Edward commented wryly.
I huffed and got out of the car, slamming the door harder than necessary and marching up the walk. When I glanced back, I could just see him smiling as he pulled away.
