Jessica managed to keep her peace for about five more minutes, during which time I tried to actually pay attention in class. Suddenly the piece of paper was slid away from my side of the desk and Jessica began writing again. I ignored her at first when she pushed it back toward me, writing the last equation Mr Varner had put up at the front. Then my eyes looked down.

Do you like him?

I smiled, nodded, and continued class, knowing that the little action wouldn't be enough for Jessica. She reached across the desk to write again.

Do you LIKE like him?

I put my pen to paper, and then thought hard. Edward was watching. What could I say?

A lot Jess. More than he likes me I daresay.

I smiled sadly, and focused back on the lesson. Jess didn't push anything further, but I could practically feel her need to know whatever gossip this managed to spit out. The class went by dreadfully slowly, but I still worried about seeing Edward at lunch. What would he say? What would he have thought about the note passing, and how it pertained to him? I didn't have long to worry. By the time I was finished copying over Angela's notes, Jessica had shot out of her seat because the bell had rung. I packed up my things, grabbing my jacket, and headed out into the hallway. I looked back over my shoulder to be sure I had everything and then slammed into a wall. A wall that then caught me. My head flicked back and I was in Edward Cullen's arms. He was shaking his head, amused that I'd wandered straight into him.

My hand went straight to my chest as I signed 'sorry'. He simply smiled at me, although he seemed to have some kind of negative mood behind it. As we walked to the cafeteria I noticed that we were getting a lot of stares. It wouldn't be ideal if we were going to have a private conversation of some kind, which was what Edward's moodiness seemed to indicate. I tugged his sleeve, indicating that we head towards the outdoors instead of the cafeteria. He followed me instantly, his facial expression not changing. When we were outside, I found that we were mostly alone. The benefits of high school life included some set routines and predictable social settings. I took a seat on the damp ground, tucking my coat under me to make sure my jeans wouldn't get wet. Edward crouched in front of me, in that squat that I thought couldn't possibly be comfortable.

"What's up?" I asked, gingerly.

"You told Jessica something that disturbed me."

"So that old idiom about eavesdropping is actually true?" I smirked. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"You knew I'd be listening in," he accused, in what I thought was a very weak argument.

"I did. I edited some of the note passing for your benefit in fact. Left out gushy details to look more mature and refined." I bit my lip to hide a smile as he glared. "It really bugs you that much that you can't hear me, doesn't it?"

He scowled as he signed emphatically. I miss out on important things. My picture is incomplete at best. He ran his hands through his hair and said; "I'm not used to feeling so limited, so… well, deaf."

I smiled at him, knowing exactly how he felt.

"I may be the only person in Forks who can properly understand what you're going through. To have such clarity in the world around you, a world which you take for granted for the most part, and then suddenly, everything is insufficient, unsatisfying. You have to work harder to do things that should come naturally and effortlessly." I trailed off, watching his frustration ebb, and turn into a caring smile.

"I suppose you do know exactly what it's like." He looked thoughtful for a few moments. "I'd never thought that my bizarre gift and lack thereof could be something I could share so easily, and better, have someone to relate to."

I shrugged, happy with the way the conversation had gone, and then dared to ask.

"So what were you unhappy about earlier?" I looked into his amber eyes as I waited and saw them tense slightly.

"You wrote something to Jessica. You wrote that you thought your affection for me was greater than mine for you." My heart skipped a beat. This was the thing he was concerned about? "And I think you're wrong."

I proceeded to blush, and bite my lip, and look away for a moment. When I looked back at him he was gazing at me with the same intensity I'd seen a few times before. It was almost intimidating, but felt natural at the same time. We sat quietly for a moment while I watched the dark sky roll by, and the misting rain falling onto the already sparkling black asphalt. Edward seemed to not mind the silence, and it was peaceful. I enjoyed even just being here with him. We didn't have to do or say anything, not that I wouldn't love it if we talked. Suddenly he nudged me to get my attention again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What is it like? Your deafness? Not the clinical explanation, but what you hear, or don't hear, and how you'd compare it." He grinned at me. "For example. If I were to close my eyes right now, every sense in my body would tell me that you were sitting in front of me, but I wouldn't be able to hear you. I could, conversely, pinpoint the location of every other student in the school, despite not being able to sense them."

I looked up to the sky as I thought. "Sometimes, it's like I've put only one earbud in, and the song I'm playing needs two. You can hear the distant echo of the instruments or of the vocals, and then you hear certain instruments or singers really clearly, and sometimes nothing at all, until you switch the earbuds. Other times it feels like static. Like I'm driving on a highway and different radio stations cut in and out, with static mess between."

I thought about the van, and Port Angeles. "And apparently, in life or death kind of scenarios, when my heart starts going fast, and my adrenaline is high, I don't hear much at all. Everything disappears, and I can only hear my own heartbeat."

"And your voice, and your fathers… I mean I don't know how clearly I'm hearing it, but sometimes it sounds like music, like you're singing instead of speaking. In some ways it's easier to distinguish, but in others it's harder to hear. The other day in the truck you did pretty well yelling at me though, so when we're alone it's easier."

Edward continued to squat looking thoughtful for a while.

"Is it easier when I sign and speak? Or focus on one or the other?" He signed, and spoke.

"It depends what you're talking about. I'm newer to signing, so going fast with unfamiliar signs is almost more challenging than trying to read lips. Sometimes adding the signing helps, because I can place context and then understand better. I'm not picky I guess. I can do both, but I do lip-reading and hearing best, so if everyone could just light up when they started talking that'd be great." I looked at him again, remembering something. "You said that you'd just picked up signing last weekend. So far you look pretty experienced, so which is it?"

Edward ducked his head guiltily. "I had a lot of time on my hands this weekend. And Carlisle and Alice knew some already, so I devoted my time to learning. We –" he signed 'vampire' and said "have eidetic memories, and we learn very quickly."

"That is so unfair. How many languages do you speak exactly?" I asked, bemused.

"More than I'd care to admit. Some better than others. I've had a lot of time on my hands since I became what I am." He shrugged almost nonchalantly.

"Became?" My curiosity was piqued now. "I'm not sure why but it didn't occur to me that you weren't just born one. And what exactly do you mean by 'a lot' of time? How old are you?"

"How old are you?" he countered. I stuck my tongue out at him and signed 'nineteen'. That seemed to grab his interest, but he stored the question away, and sighed. "I'm seventeen. I've just been seventeen for a long while." He stopped there and I flicked his jacket to make him continue.

"I was born on June 20, in Chicago." And then he signed '1901'.

"Wow. You really are a grumpy old man." I chimed. It was his turn to flick my jacket.

"Do you remember when you were ill, and I admitted that I'd been sick once, with the flu?" he grinned mischievously at me and I thought back.

"Yeah. You said it'd hit you hard."

"I had said that it had killed me actually. I meant it. That was when Carlisle had found me, dying of the Spanish influenza." He looked thoughtfully behind him. "We may want to continue this conversation later. The bell will be ringing soon."

I looked around myself, remembering that we were essentially two high school kids, hanging in the parking lot and it seemed surreal. Like the detailed supernatural world we had delved into temporarily was more real than the world I had just been dropped back into.

"Right. Biology." I stood up enthusiastically, and then scowled. "And gym."

"Gym isn't really your forte is it?"

"Too much going on, too much to look for, too much I can't hear. Plus I'm not that coordinated." I stretched and sighed. "And I'm still sore from yesterday." I admitted. His face darkened.

"How are your ribs?"

I unzipped my coat, and lifted my shirt. The bruise was pretty colourful. His teeth clamped together in anger, and his hands wrung in dismay. "I could probably get you out of gym."

"No no. I gotta do my time. Don't do anything illegal or supernatural while I'm there either." I grinned nudging him with my arm.

"Well I can promise I won't do anything illegal."

We walked to biology together as I glared at him. "Seriously. I'm fine. Let me have gym, and get it over and done with." I felt like I was bargaining with a child. "And if you do, you can come over after school. We can keep talking, if you like."

Suddenly I felt shy, hoping that I wasn't being too forward. He looked back at me, lifting his hand to gently touch my chin.

"I'd like that."