Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Twilight Saga.
By Monday I was so tired from my lack of sleep, that I filled my large coffee thermos with the darkest roast I could find in the house – after I had my daily mug of it. My parents hadn't seemed too concerned about my near drowning after I had told them I had a minor concussion. They had basically said that if I felt like I was going to snuff it, I could notify them.
The lessons dragged on; as I discreetly munched through the energy bars I had stuffed in my bag. In art Edward didn't greet me as usual, and initially I wasn't too concerned, but his silence dragged on, and I was worried for how long this would last.
With five minutes left in the kelp drawing lesson, I decided to try a nice casual conversation. "So Edward how was your weekend?" I asked, searching through my pencil case for a celadon green.
"Fine" he muttered, not looking away from the sheet of paper in front of him. I waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent.
"That's," I struggled lamely for a moment "Nice."
I waited a couple more minutes, but he was still mute. "Is something wrong? Can I help you in any way?" I tried to keep my voice normal and chipper, though in the last sentence it wanted to drop to a provocative sultry tone.
He finally looked up from his masterpiece with a sigh. "Alex, it would be better if we weren't as sociable with each other. You should stay away from me."
Didn't see that coming. "What an odd thing to say, Edward. Why would I avoid you, though? You're nice eye candy." I rationalized.
He exhaled sharply. "Is that all the matters to you?" He asked aggressively.
"Is what all?" I asked innocently. I could see that he was being serious while saying this, but I couldn't help but laugh at him. I was a pretty awful person, I grinned at that thought – he didn't.
"Sex." He whispered angrily. Ah…that word sounded amazing coming from him. I was lost for a moment in more inappropriate fantasies. The desk trembled briefly as he gripped onto it. Was he on steroids? Or not human? Hm, an interesting debate.
"Not really," I answered serenely. "Eliminating suffering is important to me." And you, I added silently, still wanting to test if he could read minds.
"Do you not care at all for self preservation?" He asked. He still seemed at bit mad, but more subdued.
"I don't think I understand. Are you saying staying away from you will help enable my safety? Then that makes Friday's little rescue mission redundant." I said.
He was definitely calmer now, but he seemed anxious. "What I'm suggesting is more preventative."
I bit my lip "You're a teenage male Edward, you should be thinking sex, food, and more sex. Why do you care about "preventative safety" for me?"
He was quiet for a moment. "You're correct, most males think along those lines. In answer to the question though, I want to avoid hurting you" He murmured the last part.
"How could you hurt me? I mean, I'll let you get rough with me anytime if you like it that way…" I said in a suggestive tone.
The bell cut off his answer, and with no more than a shrug of his perfectly defined shoulders, he was out the door leaving me rather confused.
In gym we had moved on to badminton, which I could somewhat manage, though I hit myself a couple times more than the birdie.
I had a pointe class at 4:30, so I walked straight from the school to the studio. Once I had changed into my open back navy blue leotard with black cut off tights over, I taped up my toes, and tied up the painful satin shoes.
The instructor warmed us up at the barre, and then we moved to the centre space, where we worked on fouttes. These were still challenging for me on pointe, but I was able to do 16 turns now. At my old dance school we had had boys, therefore pas de deux, but there were only three main dance schools in Vancouver that did that, so Forks had none. It was a disappointment, as being lifted and held by the guys was fun and interesting for everyone involved.
When the 1 ½ hour class had finished, I dragged myself home and into the shower. My parents would be home within the hour, so I fed the cat and heated up the leftover quinoa and lentils.
After food and homework, I wanted time to ponder what Edward had said earlier, so I made an excuse that I was tired to my parents, and headed upstairs. In my room I dressed in my make shift pajamas – black spandex shorts and a Rolling Stones t-shirt, grabbed my Mac book, and settled on my bed.
I stared at the screen for a couple minutes, trying to identify what Google's symbology for the day meant. Then I quickly typed in what came to my mind: What is fast, pale, strong, cold, and attractive.
About three million different answers appeared, highlighting certain words from my lame attempt at identifying what Edward was: From recipes, to famous actor deaths, but nothing superhuman. I would probably have to get more information than what I had just observed over these few weeks.
I closed the laptop with a sigh, put it on the dark wood desk, and curled up on my bed with Alice kneading me through the synthetic quilt.
I dreamt that I was drowning again. The salt water of my subconscious tasted very real, and I tried to spit it out without avail. Edward appeared as he had in reality, wrapping his arms around me, but this time too tight, so what little breath was left in my water logged raw throat was forced out in a whoosh. Suddenly one of Edward's hands rose to my face, cupping the side as though he were going to kiss me, but then moving to the front and squeezing till my mouth was forced open.
I fought back, but his hands dug in deep, I could feel my mandible bruising from the strain and pressure. My mouth was forced open wider, and torrents of salt water ripped through my throat, choking me. Edward looked at me, and his eyes were a gleaming red.
"I can hurt you." He whispered, somehow managing to be sexy while killing me.
I tried in vain to wiggle out of his iron grasp to the surface. He held me closer to his body which was even colder than the water; he bent his head so his lips were beside my frozen ear. For a moment I forgot to struggle.
"I want to hurt you." His voice was even lower, and much more menacing. He leaned even closer so his sharp teeth were grazing my ear.
He started nibbling on it, and then suddenly the vast expanse of ocean surrounding me was polluted by a stream of potent red. He had bit off my ear.
I was so shocked I woke up, coughing and spluttering like I had actually been drowning. I was feeling unsettled, so I sat up to pick up Alice, expecting her to be at the foot of my bed where she had slept through for every day we'd owned her. When I found my cover's empty, I looked around startled.
My room was dimly lit by the eerily green florescent light of my alarm clock. I looked around and spotted the cat sitting in front of my door, staring at my window. Her hackles were raised, as was the fur on her back, and her tail had expanded to about four times its normal width. A sign I knew well to indicate fear.
"Ali, what's wrong?" I asked her, hoping she could somehow indicate with a whisker or two her problem.
She continued to stare out the window in evident anxiety. I staggered over to the door, scooped her up and brought her to my bed. She shivered and growled as I passed the window.
Once she had curled up on my duvet, I gently pried open the window and looked out. I couldn't see anything in any direction – I even looked up at the roof as I had seen many horror movies where the unsuspecting victim forgot to look above.
I felt unsettled; the dream was still strong in my mind. Reluctantly I crawled back into my warm bed, imagining the following day. I hoped Edward wouldn't have these ridiculous ideas still in his beautiful head. Besides, the dream was, after all, only a dream.
The next morning I was anxious as I got dressed, distracted and looking around at the slightest disturbance. It was chillier outside today, so I dressed in a teal wrap sweater dress, with grey fake suede high boots from Aldo. Once my teeth were exuding the scent of my natural mint toothpaste, I grabbed my shoulder bag and Starbucks thermos of black coffee and, shivering in the overcast light of day, walked to school.
The first lessons were easy; I found my dirty mind wandering to places it shouldn't have been. I wasn't hungry at lunch, so while in line with Jessica and Mike, I refilled my coffee and waited for them to get their trans fatty foods.
"Oh my god, Alex" I heard Jessica stage whisper.
"What?" I asked, concentrating on pouring a teeny bit of brown sugar in my coffee.
"Edward Cullen is staring at you."
Oh damn.
"Hot stuff" I consented, screwing the lid back on the stainless steel coffee vessel.
I finally looked up, and met a pair of inquisitive topaz eyes. He was sitting in a separate area from his family – from the shocked looks of passing students, I gathered this was a first.
I grinned at him with a geeky wave, hoping to embarrass Jessica and any girl standing by me. Sure enough, they all turned into tomatoes. He scowled playfully back, but raised his hand in a summoning gesture.
"Oh my god! What does he want with you?" Jessica asked.
"Sex" I answered nonchalantly. Now it was time to embarrass Edward. I doubted it would be possible, but I wanted to try. "Every art lesson he tries to feel me up, and he talks really dirty. I know you wouldn't expect it, it was a shock for me the first time as well."
Jessica stared at me, too stunned for words. I chanced a glance at Edward – his mouth was agape in disbelief. I tried to maintain my composed expression, but of course I snorted.
"Oh, wait, you're joking! Dude, I totally like, for a moment believed you!" Jessica trilled. Edward rolled his eyes.
"Yes, well, I'll see you later." I said, not wanting to delay my eating – drinking – with Edward any longer.
I approached his table, coffee in hand, and took a seat opposite him as I said hi.
"Alex." He greeted me with a sour smirk.
"Aren't you hungry?" I asked innocently, glancing at his empty table, and then returning my eyes to his face like a super attracted magnet.
"No. Aren't you?" His eyes performed the same circuit as mine.
I answered by sipping my beverage. "I thought you wanted to stay away from me. Sitting at lunch together usually isn't viewed as one of the best ways to ignore a person's existence."
He sighed, as though hoping to put that off – or to word it in a different way. "I see now that, despite my efforts, you won't be able to ignore me. And" he glanced away, as though hiding embarrassment "despite my own efforts, I won't be able to ignore you."
I took that in, not really sure what to reply to that. "Huh."
"You're in too deep" He concluded somberly.
"Well, you're welcome to get deep in me too." I said hoping to cheer him up. He looked slightly freaked out though. "Oh wow, sorry, that came out really wrong. I didn't intend for it to mean, er, that, but you're welcome to do that too." I smiled.
"You're so bizarre." He murmured, leaning into me slightly.
"Thanks" I grinned at him.
He glanced over my shoulder. "You're friends aren't very pleased with me taking you".
I wondered if he knew how appealing his voice was. "Well I'm pleased; you can take me any time" I concluded with a wink.
He sighed, and unscrewed the lid to my energy, sniffing the contents with a disgusted face. I ignored him, knowing he was trying to turn the subject in a different direction.
"And how is it you know they aren't pleased?" I asked, pushing back the cuticles on my right hand.
"I can tell," He answered innocently. Hm.
There was an awkward silence, and I hoped to prolong it, but I realized the minutes were ticking away, so I broke it. "I had a dream about you last night."
"Did you really?" He asked, but is face wasn't surprised. That disturbed me. I quickly tried to block my mind from remembering the dream.
"Yes." I answered, focusing on my brain humming Fiddle on the Roof.
"And?" He said, looking irritated.
"You bit off my ear." I said simply.
"Ah." He said looking confused. "You also have a bizarre subconscious."
I smirked.
"Is that all you dreamed?" He probed.
"That's all I remember" I lied. But before I could stop it my dream played through my mind in fast motion: Edward grabbing me, drowning me, saying how he could hurt me, how he wanted to hurt me.
I quickly picked up If I Were a Rich Man again, before he could see how the picture would cloud over with my crimson blood. I chanced a glance at his face, and saw that it was sad but also mollified in a way.
I cleared my throat. "So, what have you been up to lately?" I tried to pick up a normal conversation, not an easy feat with a superhuman.
He shrugged. "Whatever it is one would be up to. And yourself?"
"The same and trying to figure out what you are."
The long white hand that had been running through his messy hair froze. "And how is that going?" He murmured.
Before I could stop them, the images of my failed Google search went through my head, my brain practically highlighting the words I had utilized. I quickly turned my thoughts to the first thing I could think of – which immediately embarrassed both Edward and I, as it was a slightly graphic fantasy. Ha. Ha.
"Not so well," I admitted.
"Do you have any theories?" He asked, folding his hands on the table.
"Not yet." I sighed, but my mind betrayed me of course, flashing steroids, and cartoon batmen across like a hyperactive canvas. I would have to practice some control over that. "Can't you just tell me?" I asked trying to keep the desperation out of my voice, but already knowing his answer.
"No." He said smugly.
"Please," I breathed, leaning forward and looking up through my thick black even without mascara lashes. "Of course I can give you something in return." Once again my mind was filled with inappropriate images.
He groaned quietly. Whoa, did I just have that effect on him? I tried to hide my excitement.
"No, I'm not groaning in that way, much to your evident displeasure, I'm groaning, because you have a one track mind." He said arrogantly.
"Oh damn." I muttered.
He laughed. "You're so odd," He said again, "I've never met anyone quite like you."
A thought struck me then, and though I'm sure he saw it – though it was impossible to tell with his perfect poker face – I voiced it. "What you are, whatever that is…you are able to er, do that, right?"
He looked at the ceiling as he answered. "I may not be a completely normal human, Alex, but I am a man."
"You're not human?" I whispered, my voice rising 3 octaves.
His face said what he didn't: Oh shit.
"Well," I said, matching the arrogance and smugness with which he always spoke. "I suppose that gives me somewhere to start."
"I suppose." He murmured quietly.
He seemed sad or
worried about what he had just said, and I could feel the stares and
possibly glares of his family members on my teal clad back. I wanted
to calm him down, but I wasn't the best at situations like this.
"Hey, Edward, I don't really care that much if you aren't
completely human." He was about to cut in, so I quickly extended my
sentence. "If you can fuck, it's all good. In fact, you don't
seem so brilliantly thrilled right now, why not ditch and find some
much more interesting ways to entertain ourselves?"
Instead
of looking annoyed or mad, he had a speculative look on his chiseled
face. "You put on a good show, but I can tell it's a cover up."
"What's a cover up?" I asked, honestly.
"You're whole thing of only thinking or caring about sex. What are you trying to hide?" He seemed interested.
"Oh. Wow. I'm not aware that I'm trying to hide anything." I said, mystified.
"I think you are." He contradicted. "I think you are trying to cover up emotions, you don't seem to be bothered if someone calls you a name, or hurts you."
I racked through my memory. Huh. "Nice, that might be true. I'm not very good with emotions, like if someone is crying, that just puts pressure on everyone else to do something. And if you do decide to go and comfort them, sometimes they're like 'leave me alone' or whatever. Being emotional about stuff is a waste of time, and too many people make choices based on how they 'feel' about it, isn't that ridiculous?"
He scrutinized my face for a moment. "It is astounding how much you resembled a robot right there."
I laughed with him for a moment. "Yeah, my family always makes fun of me, for trying to not be emotionally attached to anything."
"Then why do you do it?" He asked outright.
In frowned, "I guess if you are attached to anything, if it goes away, you're hurt. But if you aren't, you can view it rationally.
He seemed fascinated by my bizarre sentence that didn't even make sense to me. "Yes, there is definitely more to you than what you try to make seen."
I laughed at him as I pulled my ponytail to make it tighter. "You're trying to turn me into a mystery, now even I'm getting confused. But how did you see through me like that, like even the stuff I'm not thinking about?"
He looked into my devious green eyes intently as he answered, "The same way you saw through me."
I tried to understand that fully, but before I could Edward reminded me that we have class in a few minutes.
I picked up my coffee, took three more sips, then stood with him and walked through the cafeteria to the art room. I could feel the stares of hundreds of students on me, I grinned, held my head high (stuck out my chest slightly) and inched slightly closer to Edward. None of this went unnoticed by him of course; he pressed his perfect lips together, and looked straight ahead though his eyes would occasionally wander in my direction.
In art we watched a documentary on expressionism, so Edward and I were unable to continue our conversation.
After gym I walked home in the rain, thinking through our conversation. He really was quite different from anyone I'd every met. But I wanted to see more of him (both physically and psychologically).
