Author's Note: Hello everyone! I hope you are enjoying what's been going on so far! I'm not asking for reviews, although I really do appreciate the ones I've received. You guys are amazing, and it's wonderful to see you so enthralled in a tale that's been in my head for a while. I did want to ask a question though:

- Would you prefer I upload chapters after I've hit my average word mark (between 1,400-1,800) like I have been doing, or would you prefer I break them into segments that are more meaningfully split up (like a critical event or a cliffhanger etc.).

If I get responses or not, I'll still be posting at a similar speed (I have between Sunday-Tuesday to write) and hope you'll all be patient with me. I love that you're all loving this Bella, and I promise there will be more insight into her deafness soon. I'm hoping to even take this across the rest of SM's twilight books (I have a wonderful image of Aro conversing with a deaf and slightly annoyed Bella that I can't shake!) Enjoy! Peace out!

Mr. Banner looked at the worksheet to check the answers. He looked slightly irked, seeing only Edward's writing there, and none of my messy scrawl. He began chastising Edward on how he appeared to have monopolised the lab, when both Edward and I butted in at the same time.

"But I did do some – " I cut myself off to catch what Edward began saying.

"Bella actually identified three of the five." He looked stern, almost chastising. I tried not to laugh as I looked back towards Mr. Banner's mouth. Not that he really needed it. His loud voice was obvious to my ears, and I wondered again how the rest of the class perceived it. He looked at me with curiosity.

"Have you done this lab before?"

"Not with onion root."

"Whitefish blastula?" He asked knowingly. I nodded. "I guess you were in an advanced placement class back in Phoenix eh? I suppose it's a good thing you two are lab partners." He turned away but I thought I saw his lips moving. Mine pursed. I'd missed whatever the end of that conversation was too. I quickly glanced back to Edward's face, his lips, and then down to my notebook. I focused very hard on hearing anything that might come from beside me. I didn't want to seem rude if he began talking to me again.

"Too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Edward asked. I snapped my eyes to his lips quickly and laughed incredulously. Weather? Really? Okay then.

"No. Not really." I responded automatically, then looked at the rain pouring outside and remembered my earlier moment of peace. "And sort of, too. I guess." I blushed and grimaced. Yep. Forks was making me crazy.

"You don't like the snow? Or you do? I'm a little confused," he smiled, jestingly. I had the feeling that he was forcing himself to make small talk.

"No. I don't like snow. But I like some of the side effects." I clarified.

"You don't like the cold." He observed.

"That's true enough. But I don't like the rain noise much either. Snow is quiet, and it makes everyone else so much more animated and happy than rain does. I've never seen anyone as pumped for rain as the entire school seemed to be about the snow." That made more sense. Glad that I'd explained myself a little, I went back to doodling in my notebook.

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live." He mused. I chuckled darkly.

"It's not so bad. It's got some perks." Like secrecy. There was a strange anonymity that I was experiencing here, despite everyone knowing my name, nobody knew my story. "The scenery is beautiful, and it's relatively peaceful here too."

I focused my gaze in on his lips, as it made thinking about my answers easier than when I looked at his eyes.

"If you don't like the cold or wet, why did you move to the rainiest place in the continental US?" he asked. This question he seemed to be frustrated by again, as if he hated having to wait for a response. As if he should have been able to guess simply by being near me. No one had asked me that yet.

"It's complicated," I avoided, and then decided that half-truths were fine. "My mother got remarried."

"That doesn't sound so complex," he disagreed, looking sympathetic. "When did that happen?"

"Almost three years ago actually. Phil is fine, he's a little young, he's a baseball player and he travels a lot. Mom stayed with me, but it made her sad to be away from him." I skipped a two year period between the marriage and moving, but no one needed to know that. He looked very concerned with keeping this conversation going.

"It took a while for you to come here," he seemed more confused by my explanation.

"My mom would have been fine, staying home and… well looking after me I guess. But I was getting in the way. I knew that. So I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie." As soon as I'd gotten sick of the doctors, and the pity, and the worry.

"But now you're unhappy."

"And?" I challenged. He looked taken aback for a split second. I hadn't meant to be so severe in my response. I was about to apologize when he smiled.

"That doesn't seem fair," he shrugged.

I smiled and looked down at my notebook. Not a lot in my life was fair. But I tried to make things easier on others if I could. He was still staring at me.

"You put on a good show. But I'd be willing to bet you're suffering more than you let anyone see. Why else would it take you three years to move? You didn't want to leave. You didn't want to live here."

"Why does it matter to you?" I looked determinedly around the room to see how the others were faring. He murmured something in response that I missed and I sighed. I'd have to watch him all the time if I hoped to continue this conversation. I was at war with myself over wanting to rebel against the obvious flip=flop of emotions from before, and my wanting to study his face, his voice, his lips. He was ridiculously attractive. I stretched out my hand, doing some simple handshape exercises meant to quicken fingerspelling. My eyes flashed briefly to his and I saw him studying my hand. I stopped stretching it and rested it in my other one, warming my hand up. I looked again at his lips, perfect timing.

"Am I annoying you?" he asked, too jovially for my liking.

"Not exactly, I'm more annoyed at myself. I'm too easy to read sometimes and I find it irritating. My mom always calls me her 'open book'."

"On the contrary. You're very difficult to read. I find you very confusing. A little enigma." He looked at me briefly, before turning his attention forward. I followed his gaze, until I caught Mr. Banner talking again. He was facing the board, drawing out the different phases in simple diagrams, numbering their order, and labelling them correctly. I neatly copied down the pictures, sure I'd get the relevant dialogue from Angela later. In the corner of my eye I could see Edward leaning away from me again. I could again tell when the bell rang, because Edward shot out of his seat. I should really check if it was wired to the bell. Did it shock him every time it rang, or did he act like this all the time?

Mike came over and helped me collect my stuff. I tried to keep my eyes on him as I collected my things, ended up dropping my pencil again, and then whacking my shoulder off of the chair as I went to retrieve it. Mike looked far too concerned for Jessica's liking at my almost injury. I had to reassure him that it was a glancing blow, even though I was positive I'd bruise. I kept my attention on his lips as he complained about the lab's difficulty. In gym, I managed to talk my way out of serving in volleyball by playing up my shoulder injury. At least Mike was helpful there, affirming to Coach Clapp that I had indeed 'smoked' my shoulder on the chair in bio. If I was accident prone enough maybe I could get out of all gym classes. I tried to just stand where I was told, not flinch too much, and not get in my team's way.

I drove home that night. Antsy. I was thinking about how unfair life had been. I was sort of angry. What had I done to deserve this? All the injuries, the deafness, the non-normal life? The constant game of catch-up that I was exhaustingly playing. I'd never get to the finish line because the finish line kept moving. I was running beside the Red Queen. Running. Seemed like an excellent idea. Although it was pouring when I got home, I changed into running gear and went for a hard and long run. I pushed my leg too far and too fast. By the time I stopped running I was limping, breathing hard and doused in sweat. It was pouring out, and I couldn't hear anything except a watery static and my own heartbeat in my ears. I limped back to the main road back to our house and suddenly a car pulled up beside me. I had been so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I hadn't seen it coming. I jumped and nearly fell into a tree. It was the police cruiser. Charlie sat inside, the interior car lights on.

"Need a ride?" he asked, beckoning with the sign 'come'. I got into his car, and he drove slowly, even more than usual home. Maybe he sensed my ill mood. We sat in silence, and then briefly discussed dinner. He was fine with the basic chicken and vegetables I had planned. When we pulled into our driveway I got out of the car and limped inside. I started the food, and then asked Charlie to keep an eye on it while I got into dry clothes. I showered, and pulled on some warm pyjamas quickly, heading back downstairs to relieve him. He looked about as nervous around a stove as I did in someone else's car.

We ate in relative silence. Charlie thanked me for dinner using sign again. I swear he was trying to show off. It lightened my mood a little as I helped him clean up, then took my homework upstairs. I texted my mother a goodnight, did some trigonometry, and the quick bit of English homework I had acquired, and fell asleep surrounded by my books on my bed. I had a chilling dream that night.