Mike walked me to English and blabbered the whole way about some girl he'd met the weekend before.

I was actually relieved by the time we walked into class. I hurried to my desk without even paying attention. When I looked up, I froze.

Shane Walsh was sitting next to my desk in Mike's seat. His ever present headphones were on, of course, and he had the same old tattered notebook on his desk. He made no acknowledgement of my presence but the slight smile on his lips told me he was more than aware I was standing in front of him.

Mike stood next to me and openly gaped at Shane.

Finally, deciding he could ignore us no more, Shane looked up. He contemplated us a moment before smiling. "Hey, guys." I realized for the first time that his voice was very deep and harsh. It was the complete opposite of… someone else's voice.

I grimaced involuntarily at the thought and he caught it. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head to clear out my depressing thoughts and forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just have a really bad headache.

"Oh." He nodded and continued to stare at me and I could tell from his eyes that he didn't believe me.

Mike looked back and forth at us and scowled. "I guess I'll sit in front of you today, Bella."

I fought back a smile. Mike was clearly annoyed but still was stubborn enough not to say anything.

Awkwardly I lowered myself into the desk and avoided looking over at Shane. I could feel his eyes on me and I was afraid of him, as silly as that sounded. I dated a vampire and my best friend was a werewolf. An all human punk teenager was a piece of cake compared to the people I normally hung around with.

"You seem like you're really unhappy about something," he said softly. I met his gaze and opened my mouth in shock. Was it really that visible? I had tried to hide it as best as I could and I had been getting a better handle on my life lately. I clearly wasn't doing that fabulous a job of it, however, if a complete stranger could pick up on it in a matter of minutes. "What happened to you?"

I opened my mouth to speak but no words could come out. What could I say? He clearly could tell I was lying; who couldn't? I decided to shrug. Maybe he'd get the hint I wasn't too eager to talk about it.

He watched me curiously for a few moments before Mr. Russo walked in, barking out complaints. We never got a chance to talk again and I was happy for it.

He saw right through me. It wouldn't be so easy to pretend anymore.

The day was over and for once I was glad. Every since my little incident, as I sometimes referred to it, I had thrown myself into schoolwork, happy for the distraction. As I got closer to Jacob, I relaxed a little with my work but I was still always grateful for school during the day. I started dreading coming home and having all that free time to think. Plus, Charlie had become more attentive during my desolate months, making it absolutely necessary for me to put on my "I'm really fine" show. It got tiresome.

Today, however, had been long and I was exhausted. I was planning on napping a bit when I got home and putting off my homework till later. Wanting to sleep was actually surprising me, too; I hadn't slept well since my little incident, either. My dreams almost always involved you-know-who and it was too painful to bear. In a sick way, I kind of enjoyed them, too. It was all I had left of him, after all. When I wasn't dreaming of him, I had nightmares of the various ways Victoria could hunt down and murder me. Obviously, sleeping had become one of my least favorite hobbies.

I put my keys into my car door lock and threw my book bag into the backseat.

"Bella?"

I looked up and nearly gasped when I saw Shane standing a few feet away.

"Do you think you could give me a ride home? My dad can't pick me up and it's starting to rain…"

He smiled winningly at me.

"Hop in."

He jumped in eagerly and thanked me. "My dad is such a flake."

I didn't know whether I should laugh or not so I stayed silent as I made my way out of the parking lot.

"I live on Franklin Street. Number fifteen."

"That's a block away from my street," I laughed.

He didn't say anything. The silence bothered me and for a moment I nearly turned on the radio before I remembered. I don't listen to music anymore.

I heard the shuffling of pages and looked over. He had the notebook out and appeared to be writing something in it.

"What is that?" I asked. "I don't mean to be nosy or anything. You don't have to answer. I'm just curious."

He looked at me and smiled. "It's a sketchpad."

"Oh," I said, finally getting it, "you draw!"

"Yep. Not very well but I love it."

"I can't draw anything except trees, and even those suck. They look like people. Ugly, deformed people."

He laughed and put the notebook away. "I bet you're not that bad. Everyone can draw… a little."

"But me," I sighed. I looked over and saw he was about to protest so I added, "Trust me."

A few moments of comfortable silence passed before he asked me a question that immediately made me stiffen. "How come you don't listen to any music?"

I shrugged and hoped he'd let it go.

"I don't mean to pry, it's just strange. Usually people are playing something in the background."

"I'm not a music person," I said simply.

"So I see," he chuckled, gesturing to the gaping hole where the cursed stereo once was. "It seems you downright loathe it. You didn't have to take it out on your poor radio, though."

I put on my blinker and turned onto Hillside Street. We were just a block away and I was relieved. Shane was asking me some uncomfortable questions and he was far more perceptive than I liked.

Was this how Edward felt when we started talking? I thought.

When I realized what I'd thought, I nearly slapped myself. Thinking of him was forbidden, too. What was wrong with me? I was falling apart all over again.

I turned on Franklin Street and continued driving in a daze.

"You just ride on it for a bit. I'm all the way at the end."

I nodded but kept silent. I was afraid I'd start sobbing if I spoke. Maybe befriending him wasn't such a good idea; he didn't know about what happened so he didn't know what topics were off-limits.

"Not a big talker, either, huh?"

I looked over at him and was surprised to see him grinning at me. "Not really," I admitted.

"Good," he said. "We'll get along famously. Next house on the left."

I turned onto the driveway of a very large, fancy-looking house. I couldn't help but stare at it. Mr. Walsh was obviously loaded. A nice car sat in the driveway. I couldn't tell a car from a horse but I knew it was expensive and that any other normal person would be flipping out over it.

"Home sweet home," he sighed. He looked over at me and smiled again. This kid liked to smile, apparently. Maybe he wasn't so "goth" after all. "Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it."

"No problem."

He started to get out but turned around to face me again. He surprised me by just silently staring at me. Finally, he said, "Give music another chance, okay? It's really unforgivable for someone to drive in silence."

I just stared at him. He laughed and got out. He jogged up at the front steps, turned back to wave, and disappeared into the house.