The loophole

Teeny tiny twilight

I had my firsts pressed against my lips, my elbows leaning against the cafeteria table. I stared past Emmett who had, by this point, given up trying to ease my fraying nerves. Somehow, his 'what's going to happen, is going to happen' attitude wasn't reassuring.

Mostly, because part of me wanted something to happen.

I had come to school today, for more than to simply keep up appearances. I was easing myself back into my public life which I had disappeared from so suddenly last week. I couldn't believe that it had only been a week. One week since I had sat in this chair, board beyond my mind in this simple building.

Last week my facade hadn't meant much more than the responsibilities that being in our family held. Now I felt imprisoned. Caged.

Micheal Newton was out in the hall, his voice trying to persuade the new girl to come in, to join their merry gang of mediocre, inane children. "Why don't you just come sit with us. I mean, the caf chairs aren't exactly comfortable, but it has to be better than the floor."

When we had all arrived today at school, the minds of the small student body were buzzing with images. A face, a new arrival who had come in her first day on Tuesday. Apparently she missed Monday because she couldn't get certain documents in on time. Or her dog died or something. I wasn't sure. I didn't care.

Well no, that isn't exactly true. I hadn't cared when the new girl's face was strewn through the muddy memories of the humans. Unclear, and indistinct after a weekend of not seeing her face to re-freshen the memory. Large eyes, full lips, longer brown hair. Some people remembered the widow's peak that framed her face, giving it the romanticized likeness of a valentines day heart. Others were caught by how straight her nose was, a little too thin for her face.

Micheal remembered her lips.

He was looking at them now, trying not to be too obvious about it. He liked the way they were shaped, the upper lip too full so that it perfectly matched her bottom lip. On most people's faces, the upper lip was less full than the bottom. It looked so strange. Eye catching.

Mesmerizing.

How was it that I hadn't once given the bus stop across from the school a second glance? In all the years that I had been attending this school. Of all the times that I drove past it—that I looked right at it—I hadn't once given Chime sitting at the bus stop bench this morning a second look.

My hands slid up and into my hair with a groan. Stupid, stupid, stupid vampire.

"No thanks, Mike." Her voice rang quiet and clear above the babble of the cafeteria, though she was the farthest from us. It was probably just because I was listening for it, rather than it possessed an unique quality to make it sing above the rest. "I just want to eat alone." She smiled at him, it was small, but it was a truly touched smile. As if he had done some remarkable thing for her by simply inviting her into his little group of friends.

Micheal grinned stupidly in response to her smile. 'God, she's so pretty. And funny. What was Ben saying about her before? Something about being open or something about her humour...'

I was suddenly angry, and for no reason that I could see, I wanted to take it out on Newton. Violently. Why didn't he just leave her be? I didn't want her to come into the cafeteria, didn't want to chance a stray wind that would blow her scent anywhere near me.

I was also as perplexed as the boy. Why did she prefer the floor? Did she not like the company that Micheal ran with? I mean, I didn't either, but I had certain prejudices against mindless sheep. It couldn't be that she didn't like the boy; she was making that obvious.

I glared at the wall, even angrier because this shouldn't bother me at all. Plenty of girls liked the Newton boy. He was a very generic blond boy with blue eyes and clear skin. Pale, but so was everyone else.

Jessica was currently waiting for him to come to the table so she could tell him about the new movie she had heard was coming into theatres on the weekend. A sappy love story that Lauren had gushed had been so moving she had cried when the two lovers were reunited. Jessica was hoping that bringing it up would cause Mike to ask her to go see it with him.

Jessica's crush on the boy didn't bother me in the least. Quite the opposite, since her annoying little fantasies had moved on from me. If there was one thing that I could attribute to her, it was that she could be quite thorough.

I shuddered.

"Please?" Mike wheedled, "I promise we wont bite."

I will.

Chime—but his next words shocked me, and then gave me an intense pleasure. Victory.

"Annabel," he looked at her darkly, "If you don't come in, we'll all come out."

Annabel—I knew her name now. I felt a swell of pride, like I had won though she still knew more of me than I did of her. So if knowledge was the name of the game, then I was still a few points behind her. I shouldn't be celebrating.

I grinned despite this.

Annabel blanched. "You wouldn't."

she was right. He wouldn't actually go in there and up root the whole table for the girl. It would put him out there too much, and he didn't want to let her know exactly how much he liked her. If she turned him down he could still go back to his friends and say he was never actually interested in her. Save face.

Pathetic.

I nearly snorted. I was about to comment on his cowardice aloud to Emmett, when I realized that this was all just trivial human drama.

We all had heard this and then some. There was nothing new about an unrequited crush—or maybe a requited crush with some crossed wires—no one cared. Least of all me who had a second window into the lives of the humans. It was a double dose of tedium that I held in absolute contempt.

So why did I care—and I obviously did—about the tedium that I had previously gone out of my way to ignore? I felt very much absorbed by this little drama when I could read their lines to them, as if from a well revised script, I knew this dance so well.

Maybe I had created an illusory claim on the girl because I had met her first. Or was it some symptom of sex? Humans staked claims on their conquests until their attentions started to wander. Maybe this was something similar. A kind of shock wave of her presence that would continue to echo for a week or so.

I sighed, scrubbing at my face with my hands. Alice shot me another apologetic look. 'Sorry. I would have warned you, but the new girl never tangled herself with the others futures, and yours was so twisted I could barely catch a sneeze.'

I shrugged. "I would have had to face it eventually." I mumbled.

Emmett grinned, thinking I was starting to take his go-with-the-flow attitude.

I was very much fighting the flow. The girl seemed to keep getting flung at me, as if someone wanted me to kill her.

I wouldn't.

The red eyed demon laughed at me from inside my own head.

Or I would I try very very hard not to.

Micheal was walking into the cafeteria now, looking disappointed. I'd missed how their conversation had ended, but Annabel had obviously won the round. Somehow, I wasn't particularly surprised. I wanted to ask my brothers to see if they usually had these conversations out in the halls at the beginnings of lunch.

Then I remembered I didn't care and started to pick my granola bar apart instead.

Jasper threw a sideways glance at me. He was well fed, his eyes as light as mine. He was smug, but trying very hard not to be. He was happy that, for once, he wasn't the weakest link. They were all hovering protectively over me now. 'How you faring, Edward?'

"Fine." I said, refusing to look at the door. I wouldn't see anything anyways, the window with the wire mesh through it only showed the old grey-blue lockers that lined the main hall. Annabel was sitting, too low for me to see.

He smirked a little. 'Frustrating, isn't it?'

More than you will ever know, Jasper. I glared at him, though he was absolutely right and quite entitled to his smugness.

I could see Alice running my immediate future through her mind over and over, looking for potential disasters. Because I was the liability now. Emmett was across from me, between me and the door, acting like a body guard of sorts, as if the girl posed a risk to my physical well being.

I remembered the drowning, how she seemed to submerge me by simply touching me, and I figured that wasn't so far from the truth.

I hadn't told the others about the alarming response I had to the girl. That just seemed too much. The blood lust, that I had slept with her, that I couldn't even read her mind...I wondered if I even had any dignity left to salvage.

But I saw her today. I met with her alone, no witnesses, and I hadn't tried to kill her. I hadn't attempted to harm her in any way. Wasn't that progress? Didn't that display some degree of strength on my part?

But you never breathed once. How could you have resisted temptation when there was never any lure? Was I honestly dragged down to this? Trying to recover bits of what I had been so sure I was just days before? I was trying to discover strength where there was none.

And here I was calling Newton a coward. I might as well have been running from a growling kitten. I had imagined danger where there was none just because she had managed to surprise me. In quite a few ways.

I wonder what the girl thought when I had flown out of the hotel room like a bat out of hell. She probably thought I was ridiculous. Maybe that was why she hadn't been scared. I had come off as such a coward she didn't even bother with fear, because she didn't think me able to inspire it.

None of these thoughts were helping my mood.

'Edward?' Alice asked, still guilty for having missed the obvious. She hadn't even known what Chime/Annabel looked like until this morning. She hadn't even linked the new girl in my biology class to the woman I had met last week.

I flicked my eyes up at her, waiting. I didn't even make the pretence of being curious. How could the girl spiral me into such a terrible mood by simply being here?

She bowed her head a little. 'Sorry.' she thought, and at first I thought it was for missing the significance of the girl, but then she spoke aloud. "Are you going to skip next period?"

Oh. I see. She was apologizing because she was putting a decision that was ultimately mine up for debate. Fantastic.

I listened to everyone's initial reactions. Each one was an absolute negative.

Except for Emmett. "Just get it over with, Edward. She's alone in the hall right now. We could cover for you."

Before I could voice my protest, Rosalie groaned at Emmett. "I don't want to move yet. We are almost finished school, Em. Finally."

Emmett shrugged, spinning his fork in his spaghetti. He would move for me, if something happened.

Jasper tried not to sound too self-righteous when he said, "Why chance it? Just skip today, and take it slow."

While Jasper really did feel bad for me, terribly empathetic for the situation I was tangled in, some part of him was pleased that I had met Chime. He was so tried of being the weak one. I couldn't even be irritated at his thoughts. I knew that I would gladly trade Jasper's suffering for my own if that meant I could return to last week when I had been practically radiating self assurance.

I wasn't self assured now. I was anxious, and angry and almost hopeful that I could make it through today and still be able to look Carlisle square in the eye tonight.

"I was alone with her today, and nothing happened." I argued, with obvious flaw.

Rose raised an eyebrow. "You said you didn't breath this morning."

"I wont breath now." I said quietly as a girl passed by our table jubilantly, pony tail swinging as she rushed to her friends laughing about some boy who had approached her in the lunch line.

"...so out of his league." I heard them laugh four tables up from us. I grimaced. This gossip was absolutely impossible. Mind numbing. But wasn't it ultimately the same kind of drama that had gone on in the hall just moments ago?

I looked over at a sulking Micheal, picking at his food while Jessica tugged at his sleeve, laughing. She was desperate for his attention, and he didn't even realize her infatuation with him, so lost in his own pinning.

I wonder if Annabel noticed his obvious yearning, or if she was just as blatantly unobservant as he was. I didn't think that was likely, as she was very good at picking up on such small details. Yet she had forgotten about my hasty escape. Maybe she had gotten lucky this morning with the eyes.

Cynically, I doubted it.

Maybe I would ask her. This idea brightened my thoughts considerably. I needed to make some kind of small talk with her anyways, my table was the only empty one, the only place with a free seat. Besides, I needed to leave her with a better impression than I had today. I hadn't expected that I would meet with her again, so I hadn't been trying all that hard to come off as normal.

I needed to be polite if she was going to share the lab desk with me. Maybe not for long as Mr. Bertie was lax on seating arrangements. He prided himself on his memory, of being able to remember names without needing the structure of arranged seating to aid him. It wouldn't be long before she found another lab partner she would rather share her class with.

In the mean time she was stuck with me. I grinned a little as I tried to image how she would react to seeing me. I tried to imagine the expression in her clear eyes as she realized that I now new almost as much about her as she did me. Maybe not her birthday, but definitely her name. That was the important one anyways.

I couldn't read her mind, but her eyes were very open. I could read those instead. Like a puzzle I could slowly begin to piece together. A certain expression must expose a certain thought. I was—for once—suddenly impatient for class to begin.

"Huh," Alice said, shaking me from my thoughts. "It's more secure now." She cocked her head at me questioningly, trying to understand what had brought the barely even chances of her surviving up to an almost concrete ninety-three percent surety.

Curiosity? Would curiosity really be enough to save her?

I remembered that first night, how she had touched me and suddenly the thirst was all but gone. It wasn't so much curiosity, as distraction that seemed to keep the thirst in check. Before it had been her body, maybe now her mind would be enough. Enough to keep the monster in line, strictly shackled to my will.

Like reflexology; sending different nerve impulses up the same nerve to ease a pain with pleasure. The self preservation technique of understanding every situation to cut the vulnerability factor of being taken off guard might what would save her. Though a vampire's mind was able to concentrate on much more than one thing at once, something new, something distracting was usually enough to entertain the mind until it was riddled out.

The girl was most definitely distracting.

I was excited to test the theory. As if her life was nothing more than an experiment. I flinched. But wouldn't I have to go eventually? Why not go early? Get seated and ready, put my props on display?

She was in the hall, I could test my theory now when, unlike in the classroom, I had an easy escape if her scent did become too much. Then I would know whether or not to skip or not.

I hesitated. I wasn't sure my eagerness to see her wasn't purely for the sake of the experiment. Besides, she wasn't a science project. It wasn't like she was renewable; if the test failed, I wouldn't find another Chime.

Not Chime, I remembered with a sense of giddy anticipation, Annabel.

I squashed the excitement down. I would at least wait until fifteen minutes before class. That was more than reasonable.

I waited. I watched until the second hand finished it slow rotation on the clock face. The exact moment that the second hand hit the twelve, I stood up. Everyone at the table looked up at me questioningly.

"I'm going to class." I said casually, as if I left at this time everyday. I was embarrassed to admit the slight interest I had in the girl. Along with all my other slips in the past few days, I could imagine how easily they would all misinterpret my intentions, guessing at some darker motivation.

And to think that just this morning I had sworn that I wouldn't let any part of her garner interest for me. But I had made that promise to myself when I had been sure that this morning would be the last I ever saw of her.

There was an obvious loop hole, and I was taking it.

I worked on my lines as I walked towards the doors. Something light. Maybe I would casually throw her name into the conversation just as she had done to me. See how she liked it. I wish I had something more personal about her in my limited knowledge of her.

I knew the curve of her hips, but not her middle name. Knew how her skin stretched tight against her bones as she lay back on a bed, but I didn't know where she had come from. Hell, probably, since she haunted me like my own personal demon. She was out to ruin me, hitting me where it would hurt the most. Public.

I threw open the doors, looking down to where Micheal had left her, breath pulled deeply into my chest to throw my first witty comment at her that would shake her off her feet.

But she wasn't there.

All my breath whooshed out in a single, disappointed, "Oh." The caf doors closed behind me with a bang.

Rosalie laughed, and then the rest of them started, though Alice, at least, tried to apologize. 'Sorry, Edward, but you should have seen the look on your face.'

I grimaced. My kind, loving sister had seen me make a fool of myself, and had said nothing. Thank you, Alice. I'm glad I amuse you.

I took a careful breath in through clenched teeth, preparing myself.

I suppressed a wince. Even through the open space, and the time that scent had to dissipate into the lemon cleaner and the rubber of a few hundred shoe soles, it was still honestly painful. Gripping fiery claws that crawled up and down my throat.

It wasn't nearly as bad as the first time, and I took comfort in that, though it was only because her scent was weakened. I knew that when I found her—and I would invariably have her thrown at me in some unexpected way—it would be just as bad as the very first time.

With this in mind, I started to follow her scent, heading towards my locker to collect my books. I slid around corners, listening carefully to make sure she wasn't going to pop out of no where and give me a metaphorical heart attack.

I was aware of how paranoid I was being. Crazy even. There were bodies in all the classes around here, teachers prepping for the next period, helping students who had come during lunch to ask a question. The doors were closed, heart beats close to the walls. It was as if there was someone always around the corner, waiting for me. It was only when I placed the position of their thoughts with their physical position that I felt secure to move.

God, I was paranoid. At least there was no one to see it. But I had lost her scent, she must have deviated—

"Dan na na na na," I didn't even turn around, just let my head fall against the painted grey brick, "Batman!" she finished, and I could hear the amusement in her voice.

I peeked at her sheepishly. There was a tingling in my cheeks as the venom raced to my expanding capillaries. It wasn't noticeable to her, but it flustered me. My long dead human blush coming back to haunt me.

"Hey." I forgot to throw her name at her, and when I remembered that I had planned to, it seemed a little too late to make it sound witty. What did it really matter now that I had lost all the poise and significance I had been striving towards. "Annabel."

She had appeared out of the girl's washroom, something I hadn't anticipated. She pushed herself off the wall now, and started to walk away from me, in the opposite direction of our next class. "Oh," she said flippantly, "That's not my name."

How easily she could say that, as if I had guessed a favourite flavour of ice cream wrong rather than her identity.

How perfectly casual.

How completely mind boggling.

How fucking annoying.

"Oh."

I felt very much like a spent balloon: deflated.

And then I started towards class, because that was the right thing to do. It was the safe thing. It was the responsible thing, because I obviously could not be responsible around her if I was constantly slipping, if I couldn't even keep track of her whereabouts, let along her thoughts. If there was an actual rule book laid out for these kind of situations, this would be the direction: walk away, and don't get involved. I would watch out for my family, I would follow the rules, and dammit, I would walk. a. way.

Because it was the right thing to do.

And to do anything else would be very, very selfish.

And egocentric.

And wrong.

Very wrong.

Very, very, very wrong.

I turned around and started to follow her.

Of course, stupid me, I took a deep breath in. Not because I needed it, or because I thought that it would be a whole lot of fun to combust on the spot (which I instantly did). I did it, because suddenly, inexplicably, I was nervous. Apprehensive.

I honestly felt like I was on fire, which wasn't soothing me at all. It was genuinely painful to take that first breath, even when the uneasy panic tightened my chest enough for only a shallow gasp.

She didn't look strong enough to carry tons of thick concrete slabs with her, but she must, because in that one small, shallow breath, she nearly threw me back into the wall with the delectable force of her scent.

I watched her back as she walked. Her hair was still up in the pony-tail that I had seen her wearing this morning, and it kind of swung when she walked. Her hair was very dark, but it looked soft as well, so it didn't catch the fake light to shine in a similarly false fashion.

I wondered if it was actually as soft as it looked to be, and pulled the memory of the dark car back to me. I had only touched her hair though, not properly admired the texture, so I really wasn't sure about—

Why was I thinking about this at all?

She turned the corner then, and I was sure that she had seen me out of the corner of her eye—possitive, actually—but she didn't turn around right away. She waited until she was at her locker, conveniently located right out side the cafeteria doors, and then started to spin the combo on her lock.

"I thought you were, uh," and then she smiled, "Doing your ninja thing the other way." she nodded her head the way she came without looking at me. In fact, she hadn't looked at me once while speaking to me.

Was that normal?

I didn't think so, but why would she not look at me? Why, in fact, would she wait for an opportunity to distract herself before speaking to me? Why not have asked me before we reached her locker when she had first seen me as we turned the corner? She had to have seen me there, because she hadn't looked back any other time, not even when she turned to undo her lock.

I cocked my head at her. "My...pardon? My ninja thing?"

She still didn't turn to look at me, though by the subdued laughter in her voice, I imagined her eyes were bright with amusement. "Yeah. How long did you have to practice walking so quietly? My shoes squeaked the whole way here."

Her cheek turned up in a smile, and I was almost desperate to see her eyes. What did they look like when she so calmly stated her observations? I was tempted to tilt her face in my direction with a careful finger under her chin.

But that would be a mistake. I didn't want to risk touching her, and chance the second, more lustful monster, reawakening.

Instead, I forced myself back to our conversation. It wasn't so difficult a jump in concentration, seeing as they were each mainly riveted on her.

I honestly hadn't noticed her shoes squeaking. I'd been too caught up in how her hair was moving to be distracted by the perfectly normal sounds her shoes were making.

"It didn't take much practice at all. Have my soft steps perturbed you?" I wondered, partially amused. I was also quite worried that she would be bothered. The particular quiet tendencies of our kind made humans uncomfortable, the way we unintentionally snuck up on them.

Rather than answer, she asked another question. "Were you're parents older when they had you?" she wondered suddenly, and then she was blushing.

The heat from the swirling blood, just under the surface of her sheer skin, was enough to warm the next breath I took enough to actually feel as warm as the fire that was ripping up and down my throat. This was obviously to the effect of my perspective, being as cold as I was. This was much better than being in the car with her though, even with the windows open. She was less concentrated this way, much easier to handle physically.

Psychologically, I was in a different sort of hell. "Why do you ask?" I wondered guardedly. It was such a weird question to ask.

She shrugged, bending down to organize her books. She placed her biology textbook, and then her binder down, before placing a balled up mandatory gym uniform on top. And then she turned towards me casually, as if I wasn't nearly writhing in desperation to see her eyes.

I couldn't focus on them right away though, her words rather, were what captivated me.

"Because you speak really formally. I was wondering if you picked that up from your parents."

"That was quite a rude question to ask." I snapped, my anger unjust. I was angry, because I was scared. She had hit the nail on the head yet again with such perfect accuracy. I hadn't thought it was very obvious—no other humans had ever picked up on it until now—but I had inherited a certain form of speech, and it had been from my parents.

And the time period.

Annabel (I realized I was still calling her Annabel, even when I knew it wasn't her name.), looked started by my anger. "It's only a rude question if you're embarrassed by it."

Or I had something to hide. "What do you mean?" I wasn't angry anymore, curious was more appropriate, one emotion blending into the next so rapidly I felt a little dizzy.

She was blushing again, I tried not to pay attention to that, instead letting the curiosity bloom to pull my considerations towards less deadly paths. The colour on her face started at her cheek bones and seem to consume her face with life. Even her dark eyes which were now tightened slightly in embarrassment seemed lighter. I felt like if I leaned in just a bit, I would be able to see all the way down to the very bottom.

She was speaking fast, her head titled lightly to the side in the way one would when considering something. She didn't seem to be considering me though, more like she was trying to rush as fast as she could through her explanation. The curiosity at his strange posture flared unbidden this time, and it was enough to distract me from her blush. Or at least the very terrible things it enticed.

"I mean, if you were proud of the way you spoke, when I commented on it, you would take it as a compliment. But you're obviously trying to hide it, so I'm sorry for pointing it out."

She suddenly smiled widely, "If you want to make a blatant observation, feel free to do so."

Initially, my primary response was to retaliate that a gentleman of proper breading would not be so impulsive. It was fairly pathetic to know that I didn't plan to say anything, less from good breading than that I didn't have much of her to go on.

'You have brown hair!' Is not exactly witty.

I was shocked to find that I was saying something though, my lips moving before my brain could quite give consent.

"It's not fair that you know more about me, than I do of you." I frowned, so much for not being impulsive, and leaned against the lockers beside hers. The metal door of the locker, and the frame came together loudly at my sudden weight. I was remembering the way she had looked so unwilling to give me the simple, unintrusive information of her age. I thought I saw her wince though, at the sound, but it might have been the question, or the lights.

My mind tried desperately to pry into hers to no avail.

She shot me a dubious look, and then bent to retrieve her books, robbing me of her eyes. The expressions, the clear as day thoughts that she seemed to be making a sport of secreting from my intensely curious mind, were all I had to go on.

"I wasn't loose with my information. You were." She shrugged.

I glared. "I was not loose with anything."

Annabel spun to see my expression, so judge, I'm sure, how serious I was. For a moment, I was just immensely pleased that I could say something that was deserving of her gaze. Then, upon seeing that I was sincere, she threw her head back and laughed, and I wasn't so pleased anymore.

"Edward!" she cried, still laughing, "you threw your wallet at me!" and then in a much more conspiratorial voice, though the humour was still in her lips, she added, "And I don't think I really need to point out the ridiculousness that the rest of your statement encompasses."

I pointedly ignored the second half of her statement, though I was enamoured with how her eyes had shone while she spoke. Our little secret, they promised.

"I did not throw my wallet at you, I simply...dropped it artfully."

"I'm sure."

I sighed. I didn't feel like I was getting anywhere with her. I felt like I was stumbling around in a thick fog, trying to distinguish hazy objects and indistinct shadows. I would gain a piece of information of her, and think I had actually learned something, and then find I was no closer to learning anything of her at all.

It was...disheartening. I didn't like not knowing. Not knowing her mind, or her name, or even why she was at this school. Weren't there others? Ones that were closer? Or perhaps that was what she was trying to avoid...recognition.

"Tell me you're name then," I bargained without much hope, as she shut her locker, the lock snapping up into place. I had a plan instead. "Just to even out the playing field a little."

She didn't even turn to look at me, she was looking off down the hall. "Now why would I want to do that?" she asked, distractedly. I looked past her keenly, hoping to find the reason for her abstraction as if it were painted on the wall. As if her thoughts were so simply found and read. The only thing I saw was the end of the hallway.

"Because it would be nice. Ease my suffering just a tad." Even if it was just her name, to know anything about this girl would relieve me of the sense of detachment she seemed to carry with her. She didn't seem exactly real to me. No name, no distinguishable thoughts, hardly a place I could pin her to. Just a face, a pair of incredibly deep eyes, and a strange discerning magnetism over the opposite sex.

"I don't do nice."

I didn't believe that.

I launched the second piece of my plan. "Then at the very least tell me why you didn't give the school your real name."

By asking the first very intrusive—or, intrusive to her, at least—question, I was hoping that this one would seem much less demanding in comparison.

It worked.

She sighed, leaning against the lockers as I did, her head falling back to look at the ceiling. "Because, Edward"—she was saying my name to irk me, I was sure of it—"My particular situation kind of called for it."

Or maybe it hadn't worked at all. "You're particular situation?" I didn't learn anything about her.

She sighed, a long, tired sound, and closed her eyes.

It took me a moment of staring at her stupidly to finally get it. "Oh." She was a prostitute, and that didn't exactly put her on friendly terms with the justice system, or any other kind of governmental institution. She had either lied about her name because she had charges against her, or she was taking precautions against any that should find her. "I see."

"I'm glad." She whispered, not sounding glad at all. She sounded suddenly exhausted. I saw that she had dark circles under her eyes. Now that I wasn't so caught up in what was happening in her eyes, I now saw what was under them.

I watched her, curiously taking in her profile. Her nose, I saw now, was remarkably straight. Very attractive, even if it was a little too thin. It made her quite interesting to look at. I had thought that her face was at it most interesting when I was able to see the asymmetry of her lips. Or rather the perfectly awkward symmetry. Now I wasn't to sure that I didn't like watching the slope of her nose gracefully peak, and then move down to the full shape of her lips. Her delicate chin. Her even more delicate throat...

I was doing a very poor job of convincing myself that I wasn't on fire. My throat felt both raw and chard to near coal by the ripping burn that was clawing its way up and down my throat. I had to start pulling in more careful breaths now that I wasn't so distracted by her.

It was hard to remember that she was not mine. Not mine to destroy.

"Edward?" She asked, her eyes sliding open.

"Yes?" I shivered at the prospect of watching her eyes again. What a strange reaction, to shiver when her eyes had the peculiar sensation of warmth despite their darkness. The burning started to fade slightly until it was just a barely manageable pain again. Much better than the monster grinning behind my eyes, waiting impatiently for a slip. Any slip that would earn blood.

I winced. Why was I risking her, again? Now that I was in her presence I was both absolutely aware of the interest she held for my curious mind, and the desire to keep her alive. Well and whole. I realized with a growing dismay that I should not be so close with so many impending risks. I should leave her alone.

And then she spoke my thoughts aloud.

"We have a deal. Please, stay away from me. School or not, I'm still not someone you should be associating yourself with."

For a second, all I could do was stare at her in shock.

For one, she had pretty much picked my conversation out of my head—quite disgraceful, considering that I was the mind reader here—and secondly, how she could have it so backwards.

Her not someone I should be associating myself with? Was she absolutely delusional, or was she really not aware that I was the predator here?

It was a direct slap in the face. Her saying to me that I was not capable of holding my own against her. That I was too weak, too innocent to see the apparent danger she posed to me.

I stood up to my full height, glaring down at her threateningly, trying to shake her from the concept that I was not capable of handling myself. I was not, and would not be made weak by the likes of her.

Annabel turned to face me, tilting her head all the way back to be able to see my face when I was this close to her. "Wow," she said, impressed, "You're tall."

My shoulder's dropped a little in a second dose of shock. Could nothing frighten her?

She didn't understand where my shock originated from through, and so she misinterpreted. Rather than shock—or maybe awe at the strangeness of this creature—she imagined surprise on my part. Surprise that she had not observed the degree of my stature over hers on our first meeting. She blushed.

"I mean, last time I saw you, everything happened so fast."

Her eyes were suddenly intent on my face, searching for something in my expression.

Her blush, though dissolving again into the cream of her skin, did not entice my more unpleasant reactions to her proximity.

Rather, I stayed calm, collected, pretending that I wasn't having a private moment of panic. Of absolute dread. She knew. She saw and she remembered. The voice I had heard the first night was screaming at me to run again.

When had running ever been my first response to anything? Now it was all I wanted to do. I just wanted to run from her. I wanted to chase her. Both of these desires conflicted with the other, and I wasn't quite sure I knew what I wanted when I was looking into those incredibly deep, incredibly sharp eyes.

Lost.

Yes, I felt lost. Unsure of what to do.

It took me a moment to comprehend that I was staring at her in a way that wasn't particularly polite.

Realizing she wasn't going to get an answer, and not having any idea of my internal conflict, Annabel picked her books up from the bottom of her locker. I dragged myself out of my mind, and tried to look much more calm than I felt.

"Well, it was...nice to see you again, Edward, but I have to get to class. Don't want to be late, or anything." she added lamely. Her eyes flicked away from my face down the hall, and then returned. She slowly backed away from me.

I made to follow because she wasn't going to be late, even if she waited three minutes after the bell rang to start going to class. It was honestly just down the hall. I was about to tell her this because she was still relatively new, and surely she was still getting used to the classes, being extra cautious.

Then she forced a smile, and I realized she wasn't taking extra care to avoid being late because she was a good student, she was leaving early to avoid me.

She didn't like me.

I was instantly disappointed. More than that, I was offended. Honestly hurt. God, I had just stood here for a whole ten minutes, burning like I was tied to a stake, opening myself to her scrutiny, and she didn't have the time of day for me?

What the fuck?

And then the voice of reason chimed in. Why would she like you?

I couldn't argue with that.

Slowly, unwillingly, I turned away and started towards my own locker. I waited until after I watched her retreating image turn the corner and disappear, then—and only then—was I able to tear myself away from where we had been.

Even knowing that in just a few minutes, I would have an uninterrupted hour to regain her regards, I couldn't seem to lighten my foot falls. Her dislike of me probably stemmed from my ghastly treatment of her on the night I had first met her. How cold, how out right rude and mean I had been to her? If I was polite—if I was good, maybe she would not have such an aversion to me. I needed her to treat me as she would anyone else, if for nothing else than my image.

I was still upset by her obvious preference for Newton over me. True, there was no agreement—that I was aware of—that bound Micheal to keep a weary distance of Annabel—

I stopped, and slowly I started to grin ridiculously.

She had distinctly said this morning that she never wanted to see me again. But, when she had said that, she had been Chime.

She was Annabel now, and I had made not such pact with her.

It seemed to be my day for exploiting loopholes.

I pushed my hands into my pockets leisurely, and started to hum, still grinning.

I felt so devious. I laughed aloud.

I started to imagine Annabel's expression when she walked into biology to find that the one empty seat she had sat next to all last week was suddenly occupied by me. And then her ensuing frustration when I explained that I could speak to her all I wished, thank you very much.

I felt a little childish, thinking these things, and yet I couldn't quite squash the thrill the ideas gave me. I comforted myself with the knowledge that in a week or so, this strange want of the girl would have eased back into my normal indifference that applied to the rest of her kind.

I let myself relax as I opened my locker, collecting my books for the next class.

I was regaining my control. Inch by inch, I would right everything that had been wronged from when she had ripped into my life like a hurricane. A fiery hurricane.

The bell rang as I gathered my own books up.

I wonder how Annabel would react to her own, personal, hurricane.

I grinned, my teeth flashing dangerously exposed, and for once, I didn't much care.