Chapter 6: One step forward, Ten steps back

The Vile Woman, author of all his misfortune, in her "book" had so very conveniently skipped over a rather crucial element in human female physiology and the effect it would have had on her precious 'vampires' (if one uses the term loosely). It would have ruined everything had she approached it realistically, so she had simply ignored it.

Edward would too if he had the choice.

He noticed it immediately when she got in his car Monday morning. How could he not? He'd known Bella for three months, it wasn't a new thing but he'd always taken particular care to give her a wide berth during these times. That wasn't an option today, however. His eyes rolled in the back of his head as that perfume filled the Volvo's interior.

Every day there was at least a few girls menstruating, but it wasn't pulsing. It had a different scent. Still blood, still tempting, but if he focused he could more or less convince himself it wasn't food and if he didn't breathe (which given his taciturn nature wasn't difficult) he could almost ignore it without too much difficulty so long the girl in question wasn't too close to him in an enclosed space... which Bella now was.

Not good. Definitely not good. 'That isn't food old boy,' he reminded himself... to absolutely no effect. It was still utterly appealing in its way. A pungent reminder of what lay in store for him. The venom began to trickle into his mouth as he imagined...

"Earth to Edward?" she said.

He swallowed and shook his head, rolling down the windows to 'clear the air', as it were. He wouldn't talk to her. If he didn't have to talk, he didn't have to breathe, if he didn't have to breathe, he didn't have to smell her and if he didn't have to smell her he could avoid making a huge bloody mess in his car. A huge, bloody, gloriously delicious mess.

Of course, she might think him rude for ignoring her, but that didn't really worry him too much. He was certain that if she knew the alternative, she'd prefer being ignored to being eaten. Besides, it wasn't as if she wasn't used to silence. Only recently had they even begun to really converse. Right now the best conversation he would be able to make would be, 'So Bella, how do you feel about being eaten alive?' Somehow he didn't think that would go over too well, not that her opinion on the subject mattered at all. It was going to happen eventually no matter what.

He'd made slips before in other times, other places. He'd had to quickly leave town after losing control when a girl on her cycle came too close to him and he'd allowed himself to take in the scent. In fact, if he hadn't been so determined to eat her later, he probably would have lost it right then and there. It seemed that his new hobby in self-denial and will power was actually working.

Still, he wasn't a masochist. She'd definitely have to find herself another way home...

Lead me not into temptation and all that... He snorted at himself for the quote.

Turning up the music all the way, he flashed out of her driveway and pealed onto the street with a satisfying but ear splitting screech, planning to speed terribly all the way to school. Of course Bella would yell at him to slow down, and of course he would ignore her, as per usual. Problem of not talking solved. She wouldn't suspect a thing.

The moment the car stopped in front of the school she immediately jumped out of the car. He could hear how fast her heart was pounding away in her chest.

"I thought you weren't going to drive like that anymore!" she growled, unreasonably angry in his opinion. He tried to read her but she was blocking again, hiding behind an impregnable wall of anger and fear.

He shrugged indifferently, still unwilling to draw breath to speak to her. She slammed the door and began walking away, her arms crossed over her chest. Why did she make a big deal about it? He was a perfectly safe driver, better than any mere human with their terrible vision and even worse reaction times. The girl just didn't make sense. He rolled his eyes and grabbed her bag, which she had forgotten in her hateful haste. Stepping out of the Volvo and walking around to the back he just leaned against the trunk, insolently holding the purple Jansport in his hand until she remembered it and turned around. She did eventually, her mind just a big muddle of frustration with no discernible words.

Correction. no discernible respectable words. He heard plenty of the rude variety. Grunting angrily, she stomped back over to him, glaring as fiercely as she could. Which wasn't that fierce. In fact, it was almost pitiful to see and he had to make a concerted effort not to laugh. Laughing would mean breathing.

She tried to yank the bag away from him but he held onto it, even pulled it closer so that she had to take a step forward. As she struggled to reclaim her backpack he bent over her and kissed her on top of the head then let go. She stumbled back several steps, looking confused. He simply sauntered back to the driver's side and got in. He was tired of trying to work the girl out. Let her dwell on ridiculous nonsensical behaviour for a change, he thought bitterly. He pulled out, squealing his tires again and burned the rubber as he zoomed away, swerving out of the way at the last moment so he wouldn't hit her.

Looking back in the rearview mirror, he saw her giving him the finger, a perfect scowl on her face.

He drove however he damn well pleased. No mere human girl was going to change that.

.

By the time he strolled into Biology a fashionable five minutes late, she had mostly calmed down. At least her thoughts weren't so clogged with rage and he could read them again. She saw him enter but didn't acknowledge him, not that the ever did in public, but she spared a thought about him. 'It's just that most times he seems so old. I forget sometimes that he is just a boy after all.'

Once he was out of sight, however, he was no longer in her mind, and her thoughts were almost entirely biologically related.

By lunch everything was normal again. The girl wasn't very good at holding grudges. Her forgiving nature is what allowed people to walk all over her. Except it wasn't really being walked over, because she wanted to do nice things for other people. Why, Edward couldn't fathom, but that just seemed to be the way the girl functioned. He hadn't even managed to confuse her with that kiss either. She just assumed he did it to irritate her further, which was true, curse her. It was hardly fair she could figure that when she couldn't even read minds.

He settled himself under his tree and closed his eyes and blocked her out... out of his sight, out of his nose, and out of his mind. He would be glad when this was over. The female condition was maddening. He'd always thought so but not until this month had it been so patently inconvenient.

"Iz!" Edward didn't open his eyes but that didn't mean he wasn't watching. He jumped into Bella's mind to see Daniel Orvis half walking, half jogging up to her.

"Dan, hey," she greeted pleasantly.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, trying to catch up on this before English," she said, holding up her book. In truth she hadn't been reading Beowulf at all, but a section of John Donne in their Anthology for English Literature. 'And swear, nowhere, lives a woman true and fair.'

"Listen, wanted to talk before class. Do you think that since our presentation is due Wednesday we could meet in the library after school to work on it?"

"Sure. Think you could give me a ride home? I can't really drive with..." She indicated her brace.

"No problem."

Well that solves one problem, thought Edward. Now he didn't have to worry about pouncing on her in the car.

.

"I broke my collar bone once," said Orvis shaking his head at the memory. He and Bella were in the school library working on their history project. Edward was sitting in his apartment, piddling on the keyboard as he watched the scene from their minds.

"Oh yeah? How?"

"Football practice last year. Hurt so much I bawled like a little girl," he said chuckling, completely unconcerned by admitting this. "What about you?"

"No tears for me."

"Tough guy, huh?" he asked, amused. His eyes squinted when he smiled.

She shook her head, starting to smile at his antics. "No, just unconscious," she admitted.

Actually she passed out just afterward, but still that left no time for tears.

"Unconscious? Must have taken quite a spill."

Edward could feel her hesitating, uncertain if she wanted to admit it or not. "It was an accident. I nearly got hit by a car, and someone tackled me out of the way."

"Wow. Who's the hero?"

Edward wasn't sure whether he wanted her to tell the truth or not.

"Erm... Edward Cullen. He's a junior like me." Orvis himself was a senior.

"No I know him. He's not on the team but he's a good athlete." Edward saw in the boy's mind a few flashes of himself doing various non-contact sports.

"Well, I just remember waking up in the hospital. I was more distracted by the pain in my head. I was pretty badly concussed, I'm told."

Orvis chuckled pityingly, shaking his head and continued taking notes. Edward couldn't help but nod in approval, taking back up his tune with more verve this time.

Another half an hour spent on the project and they agreed to stop and finish it the next day. As she slung her bag onto her good shoulder she said, "I'll be glad when we've done this and I can focus on studying for exams."

He laughed pleasantly again. "They're still two weeks away."

She smiled back and walked through the door he opened for him. "Easy for you to say. You've already been accepted to Cornell."

"Know what school you want to go to?" he asked. "Or what your major will be?"

"I was thinking of English," she said, nervously, for some reason. "I don't know which school. Whichever I can afford."

Her companion nodded. Their conversation back to her house was easy and friendly, interrupted only when he had to answer his phone. It was his girlfriend. "Yeah? I'm on my way I'm just taking Iz home so I'll be there in like 15 minutes. Oh okay. I'll order for us then, what do you want, the usual? Okay, see you soon, babe." He slid his phone closed and explained to Bella, who, unlike Edward, hadn't been able to hear the other side of the conversation. "Sarah's going to be late anyway so I guess we didn't have to leave so soon. Oh well."

Edward switched from his own improvised piece to one of Chopin's more cheerful préludes. When Bella got in she went to her friend and called someone, an old friend that didn't go to their school, and told him about her need for a ride and why. She grimaced as he berated her, holding the phone away from her as he yelled at her for not telling him sooner about her accident.

"I'm sorry!" she shouted towards the receiver which she held at arm's length. "I'm sorry, alright. I didn't want you to worry, but I'm fine, Honest! So can you or Billy give me a ride or not?"

The boy himself showed up at her house half an hour later with his own bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. "Dad was worried, you know," he said reprovingly. He informed her that he'd be staying and Bella gave in after only the feeblest of protests. Her heart simply wasn't in it. Edward was surprised to hear her voice the thankful sentiments that went through her head. Normally she didn't say what was on her mind, but clearly this was someone from whom she didn't feel the need to hide. When he asked how she'd been she answered honestly. Her frankness was odd... almost unnatural sounding to him.

.

The monthly problem ended Wednesday, but it hadn't escaped his notice that she hadn't even made a single attempt to talk to him during that time. He knew she wasn't still angry with him, but neither did she seem anxious to return to the way they had been carrying on the past few months.

Though it had only been about a week, he'd grown used to not breathing when he was near her, so when she surprised him with a greeting during lunch, he simply nodded back in reply before he remembered he needn't be so careful.

He almost asked her if she was prepared for her History presentation as a simple conversation starter, but stopped himself just in time. She'd never told him that her project was today. He changed his polite enquiry to, "How's the shoulder?"

"Fine." She started worrying her lip and Edward didn't think it was because of him. Her mind was buzzing with anxiety, but no clear thoughts. He didn't have to be a mind reader to be able to tell what was wrong, the way she was fidgeting was a tell enough.

"Nervous?" he asked casually.

"I have a presentation after English." Looking down at her hands, she admitted self-consciously, "I... don't like public speaking... being the focus of attention..."

Edward chuckled. "I'd noticed, actually."

She looked up at him, giving him a shy smile.

"No one really listens to what you are saying anyway," he reassured her with authority. "Body language is the key thing, people are visual. Look nice and stand up straight. If you appear nervous everyone else will feel uncomfortable watching you. If you stand up there confidently, or at least giving the illusion of confidence, then they will relax, which will help you relax. Speak clearly, don't mumble, even if you don't know what you're talking about... but I highly doubt that will be the case." He gave her an encouraging grin.

"Body language, stand up straight, confidence, no mumbling," she repeated. "Got it."

"Go on, let's hear it."

"Now?"

"Can't hurt to get a bit of practice in first," he suggested. "I promise I won't throw tomatoes."

"I don't have my visual aid."

"I'll imagine it." Actually, he'd already seen it, but she needn't know that. He already knew most of her project on women and World War II.

She looked incredibly embarrassed by giving a presentation to just one person outside on a picnic bench, and she hadn't spoken more than a few sentences of her introduction before she stopped. "I feel stupid."

"You look stupid," he remarked baldly.

"Thanks," she said with ample sarcasm. 'So much for confidence.'

"If you feel stupid, then you appear stupid. If you feel confident, you appear confident."

"But I don't feel confident." She also felt awkward about her brace, but she didn't dare mention that. She didn't want to appear ungrateful.

"Why not?"

"I—"

He cut her off. "Do you know the material?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust your partner to know his?"

"Yes."

"Is your visual aid less than satisfactory?"

"No."

"Then why worry?" Though he knew why. This wasn't a matter of grades. It was public scrutiny, but he'd get there in a minute.

"Because... cause..." She floundered. "I dunno," she said with a sigh.

"Try again."

She did, and the results were precisely the same as they had been before. Her mind was clogged with everything she thought wrong with herself, commenting in her mind how her hands shook and how strange her voice sounded. Defeated, she lowered her notes and said, "I can't do this."

"Of course you can."

"No, I can't, there's something wrong with me."

"Yes, and you know what that is?"

She looked surprised and slightly hurt, but also hopeful. "What?"

"You are thinking about yourself when you should be thinking about them. Or, in this case, me."

"You?"

"Of course. Remember you are presenting to an audience."

"I know. That's the problem."

"Then why, the moment you begin your presentation, did you immediately ignore me and start focusing on yourself?" He paused and let that sink in for a moment before continuing. "Their eyes will be on you, yes, but like any conversation, you need to look at the person to whom you are speaking. Now try again." This time he snapped away the pages of notes from which she'd been reading.

"Hey!" she complained.

"Again," he commanded firmly. "Look at me, not at your script. Tell me what it is you want to say, not the paper. Sell me your history. I want to be beguiled." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, giving her all his attention.

'Alright. I am Vanna White in an infomercial for the Industrial Revolution.'

Edward smirked at the image.

"Okay." She pulled her shoulders back, flipped her hair off her shoulder with a throw of her head, and gave him an overly cheesy smile he knew was meant to tease him.

"Haven't even said a word and I'm already intrigued," he said kindly.

.

She had actually done quite well during lunch. She was in the middle of doing it a second time when she was interrupted by the bell, signaling the end of the lunch hour, which was actually only 45 minutes, contrary to what the designation suggested. By the end of English, however, she was back to a big tangle of nervous stress.

By some unspoken understanding, they both waited for the other students to trail out.

She looked like she was going to be sick. "I can't do this, Edward, I can't."

"Nonsense."

"No, really." She was actually shaking. "I can't go in there."

"You were doing so well during lunch. What happened to Vanna White?" he asked. Her expression suddenly stiffened and she looked at him with suspicion sparking her eyes. The expression 'mind reader' actually flashed in a panicked blur through her thoughts. "Don't look so offended, that's obviously who you were going for, Bella," he told her condescendingly. He had purposefully let her think he had misinterpreted her expression as one of insult, rather than alarm. "And there was nothing wrong with that. It was good. Where did all that cheeky confidence go?"

Her momentary distrust had vanished, forgotten as she confided, "It's one thing to do that in front of just you. It's something else completely to stand up in front of a whole class..."

"Vanna does it in front of hundreds of thousands of people across the country several nights a week." He felt her mind stagger at the thought of having to be in front of such a numerous audience.

"I'm no Vanna White," she said half morose, half thoroughly grateful by the fact.

"You're dazzling enough for 18 people. That is when you aren't whining," he said disapprovingly. Why was it that girls had no confidence in themselves? Even sensible types like Bella.

At this last comment there came an amused mental snort from Mr. Mathews, who hadn't yet vacated the room. Again, Edward forbore to glare, because the teacher hadn't actually laughed at him. To any observer, he was still poring over the text at his desk, not listening into a conversation that was no business of his. Edward picked up her bag and directed Bella out into the corridor before they continued the conversation. As it happened, her history classroom was only down the hall of the same building.

"Go on, flip your hair. Let me see those pearly whites." Unconsciously, he'd given her his own version of a large toothpaste ad smile, the sight of which made Bella visibly flinch for a reason she couldn't name. Of course Edward could. It was the natural, healthy reaction. There were very few people as naive as Little Red Riding hood. 'Why grandmother, what large teeth you have!' Bella, on some level, knew he was a predator and was afraid.

Edward quickly covered them with his lips, converting it into a closed mouth smile. She still seemed a bit dazed and the tiny voice within her that said only 'fight' or 'flight' was still urging her to flee.

Changing tack, he retreated, taking a safe step away from her and in his lowest, most soothing voice said, "Bella..."

The 'deer in headlights' expression melted into that of one of... trust? He hoped so but her thoughts gave him no clue as to why she was making the face she was, it was just waiting in expectation.

"Hey Iz!" Daniel Orvis greeted cheerfully. He wasn't at all nervous, nor should he be.

"Hey Dan," she sadly back. Her tone was lost on him.

"You ready for this?"

Bella turned a woeful look on Edward. He returned her gaze sternly. "Yes," he answered firmly for her. "She is."

Orvis redirected his indiscriminate smile to Edward. "I here you have a mean tackle, Cullen. Perhaps you should join the football team next year," he joked. Edward smiled sourly in response, which didn't bother Daniel at all. He simply turned to Bella. "It's go time!"

The boy's energy and enthusiasm seemed to be catching, at least it cheered Bella up and she started chuckling. By scanning his thoughts, Edward learned that had been the football player's intention. He didn't stop there, though. No no, he made Bella growl to 'get in her game.'

She did growl, pitifully at first, because she was so self-conscious and understandably confused at the point of the exercise. Orvis didn't seem to know what self-conscious even meant. "Louder, Iz. Fiercer! Scare me!" He demonstrated again. "Aarrrrrrrr!"

She finally got the hang of it. Snarling, she snapped as if to take a bite out of him.

"Atta girl!"

He put a hand out in front of him, clearly in expectation that she would do the same. It appeared as if it were some sort of two person huddle, and once she complied they would count to three and say 'Break!' or 'Go wildcats!' or something equally trite and unoriginal that typifies high school athletics.

"Get in here Cullen!"

Edward refrained. His hands were too noticeably cold for that, and such sopping camaraderie wasn't his style so he remarked dryly, "I think I'll stick to being a cheer leader." He cleared his throat and added unenthusiastically, "Go team" as he made a fist and punched it a mere two inches into the air as a token gesture.

Bella's response to this was genuine laughter, not the shy kind Orvis had managed to produce, but loud and full. When she managed to stop she was still smiling broadly. Edward lifted one eyebrow and smirked. "Perhaps it should be Vanna White trying to imitate you." Her smile changed, but didn't dim at this, and she let the older boy usher her into the classroom. Throwing a casual glance behind him, Orvis winked at Edward before disappearing inside the classroom.

Now there was a man who didn't dislike him. His good cheer, perhaps, wasn't as genuine as he wanted all to believe, but the boy was, if not exactly 'well-mannered' was at least kind. Almost overly so. Still, it wasn't hard to see why the kid was so popular. He positively radiated charisma.

Edward was far from being envious. Orvis could keep his popularity. He only wished he could shed his own. No amount of coldness or anti-social behaviour, or even downright rudeness seemed to alter his status. Again, he could only blame the book. The girls didn't like him, they liked him. They were only pretending that he was this other fellow, (who didn't even seem that worthy of such frightening devotion and adoration anyway, in his opinion.)

Wandering back to his own class at a humanly pace, he decided to watch Daniel and Bella's presentation. She wasn't as cheesy and carefree as she had been by the picnic table, gesturing to the empty air that represented her visual aid, but neither was she fumbling over her words, nor reading directly from her notes. Edward suspected that having Orvis there to share the attention helped things, his own confidence and lack of concern carrying over to her.

Edward had always assumed that her sympathy was a liability, a hindrance, a weakness that kept her from doing what was best for her own interests. In this case, however, it seemed to be working for her, rather than against.

That gave him an idea... Why hadn't he thought to use her sympathy against her until just now? All this time he'd been trying to help her to get close to her, when all it would take would be to sit back and let her help him. Granted, there wasn't much a pathetic human could do for him, but he could make up some spurious reason that would appeal to that bleeding heart of hers.

The mental image of that expression caused him to groan and lick his lips. 'Bleeding heart indeed,' he thought, a frisson of pleasure shot through him.

Grinning with this new brillaint idea, he passed his own classroom, simply deciding not to go. What was the point? He strode pass the door. Knowing, but not caring, that the teacher had seen him saunter by, he ambled toward the music building.

Now that was the one class that gave him pleasure, or had, in the past. He wasn't taking any music classes this semester, more's the pity. The had been only one downside to those classes and it was the concerts. Mr. Howard, the music teacher, had given up on making Edward perform in public, much to the man's chagrin. He wanted to show Edward off, dazzle the parents and faculty with his pupil's talent. He assumed the man thought Edward's skill would be a reflection on his teaching ability. Or perhaps the man was simply a true lover of music. Or both. Not that it mattered, he'd never once played in front of an audience.

There were only a few people there, including Howard, who perked up when he saw Edward. He could hear before he even entered the building that no one was on the piano, but, in keeping with his quiet, respectful human character, he politely asked if one was free anyway.

"Of course, Edward, of course."

He didn't mind Mr. Howard much either, really. His blood was much more appealing than Banners, which worked against him, but he was easy to be around... for the most part. His head was filled with music most the time, a pleasant change from the inane mental ramblings of most people. However Howard's mind tended to be tempestuous, and one never knew when he'd suddenly break away from a concerto and think something so abruptly wild that it gave Edward mental whiplash every time. These thoughts usually weren't inane, but... well Edward knew the human mind well enough to know that if the rest of the world knew what he knew about the music teacher, they would certainly like him less than Edward did. He didn't mind the man and refrained from judgment because he was entirely removed from human concerns and sentiment. What's more, he ate and killed people; that hardly gave him room to throw any stones or give morality lessons.

He positioned himself on the bench and felt the room grow quieter around him. Daneille stopped playing her oboe and the brass section ceased the conversation they were having. Edward paid them as little mind as he was capable of and tried to drown out their unwanted thoughts with the sound of Chopin's Andante spianato. Opus 22. Tranquillo.

He certainly was playing a lot of Chopin lately.

It was a pleasure, as it always was, to play on a real piano, the plink of the keys beneath his fingers and the proper echo from the body of the instrument was far more satisfying then the stale electronic sounds that issued from his keyboard at home.

It was a pity the piece only lasted about four and a half minutes. With the minds of everyone in the vicinity focusing mainly on the same thing, the song, it was the closest thing he ever came to mental respite. During the day at least. At night he could go deep into the wild so as to be miles away from the nearest thinking being. Blissfully out of range.

Sticking with Chopin he smoothly moved on to number 4, Opus 52, a piece that he could stretch to just over nine and a half minutes. When he finished he stood and thanked Mr. Howard for the use of the music room as the other occupants' minds started growing louder with thought again.

Unless it was about his fingers, the girls there weren't preoccupied with the aesthetics of his humble self, but of his music. When he passed Danielle, he gave her a small smile in response for her unspoken compliment and blood pooled in her cheeks. The sight was a lush one but he had eaten Monday night in the attempt to curb his desire to pounce on Bella before it was her time. His thirst was still 'at the bottom of the ebb' as it were, and he only experienced a mild scratchiness in the back of his throat. Nothing, really.

He passed the classroom buildings and tried his best to block out the ever present buzzing of the minds within and walked straight to the administration building.

Ms. Cobb was at her usual seat behind her desk, reading romantic fiction on her computer. Edward had heard a few erotic lines of the purple prose before he came in. She hastily minimized the window, though he couldn't possibly see it from his position she still felt a need to hide it.

"Edward. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I'm actually not feeling too well."

Untrue, but he needed an excuse for having skipped. Not that much would happen if he didn't. It wasn't as if the school could call his parents. He might get detention, but he'd decided that standing here and telling laughably enormous falsehoods to Ms. Cobb would be more entertaining and concocted a tale of being violently ill in one of the boy's bathrooms just after English.

Edward didn't feel even a scrap of guilt at the woman's sincere concern for his specious ill health.

"Oh you poor dear! Was it something you ate?"

Since he had no idea what had been served at lunch that day he decided it would be better not to make that up and said truthfully that he'd skipped lunch. "Didn't feel like I could stomach anything," he told her with a weak smile.

It was too easy. He was walking out of the office with a smile on his face and an excused absence from Calculus and Phys Ed. If Howard mentioned that Edward had been perfectly healthy and playing away in the music room during the time he'd claimed to having been sick in the bathroom, then he'd deal with it later. In fact, it almost wished it happened, just to give him something more challenging to do.

He didn't know why but he'd always thought of his having to mislead people as a chore. He'd only just now come to appreciate it. In fact, he might simply go around lying to people all day. It was an amusement of sorts; it made him think at least, which was more than he could say for any of his classes.

He'd forgotten about Bella and her project the moment he'd entered the music room, but when he dropped back in on her it was over and she was back in her seat listening to her teacher. By lingering in her mind, he discovered that her ride, her friend that was staying with her until she healed and could drive herself, would pick her up after he himself was finished with his own classes on the reservation, some distance away. Not having a car of his own, he was to drive to her place on his motorbike, trade it for her Chevy and then come get her. That would be in about two hours according to Bella's calculation. Seeing as she wasn't going to be participating in gym, she decided to spend that time being a good student and studying for her upcoming exams in the library.

Since he was there before she was he could hardly be accused of following her there even though he technically had.

She was a bit later than either of them expected, due to a tree branch falling on top of her. No doubt it had been snapped during the ferocious storm the night before and had only decided to fall to the ground just as Bella was walking underneath it. Edward watched the whole thing and burst out laughing, earning him a glower from the librarian.

The blow knocked her to the ground but other than that, had done nothing harmful. She got up and brushed herself off and continued on or the library. When she walked in he could immediately tell that the tree hadn't even left any bleeding scrapes, for which he was grateful.

Bella was surprised to see him.

He shrugged off her comment with a simple "Coincidences happen."

"But shouldn't you be in P.E.?" she asked.

"Not going," he replied with another shrug.

"You're ditching?" Hints of both disapproval and admiration coloured her voice. Gym was not her favourite class and had she not an excuse already, she'd be longing for ways to avoid it as well.

"No, as a matter of fact. The administration was kind enough to give me a pass," he said lifting his chin indignantly.

If Bella wore glasses, she would have been peering over them censoriously at him. "Do you make it a habit of flirting with Ms. Cobb?"

"I'll have you know Fiona is a charming woman," he said with feigned sincerity.

"Really?"

He shook his head. "Not at all, actually." Bella chuckled at this. "Just couldn't bear the thought of sitting through another painfully dull Calculus class so decided to take the rest of the day off."

"Life must be hard, being a genius."

"I'm a genius?"

"That's the word on the street."

"Then why would I bother to study for exams?"

"It's just a cover and you're actually stalking me?"

"That is a distinct possibility..." He amusedly admitted with more honesty than she knew. "But I was still here before you even arrived."

"Then I guess you aren't a genius after all, or a stalker."

"Alas."

"I suppose that means we both have to study," she said with a dramatic sigh and began removing textbooks from her bag.

"You have a leaf in your hair, by the way," he pointed out.

Bella groaned and put a hand up to her head to search for it. She somehow kept passing over it so he reached over and plucked it out for her as she explained the incident with the tree, which he already knew, of course, because he had been stalking her, mentally, all the way there.

"What impossible timing you have," he remarked.

'Bad luck Bella,' she thought sarcastically. Edward saw the familiar flashes of various memories of 'near misses' including one she visited most frequently, the accident that had claimed her father's life but from which she had walked away alive, if not unharmed. "It's a miracle I've lasted this long. The world has it out for me," she said trying to sound casual. "Always has."

It undoubtedly does... He thought with amusement. With him around, it was an absolute certainty. The world would finally get its wish, as would he. Poor girl, she didn't stand a chance. Edward grinned.

"Sorry I wasn't there to tackle you out of the way, and break your other clavicle."

"I forgive you."

"I can go beat up the tree," he offered.

"Naw, I forgive it too. In fact, it's rather worse off than I am. At least I still have all my limbs."

Instead of studying, the simply let the conversation flow. They'd never talked so easily before. Well, whispered, actually, seeing as they were in the library. It started off with him asking how her presentation had gone and just went on from there.

They'd been talking about the uniforms at her previous school when he asked, "So why did you move in the middle of the year? Surely your tuition as already paid, you could have finished the year there."

'I needed a change, I had to get away. I needed to not be pitied every day, as if I needed reminding of how sad I am.' She shrugged her one shoulder shrug again, not meeting his eyes. "It was just easier this way, all things considered."

She put up such an impressive facade, and if he were in any way decent he'd feel guilty for having been able to callously hear right through it.

"I can understand that." He waited for her to look back up at him and he held her eyes for a moment. He could hear her thinking that he didn't understand at all, so he added, "Losing a parent is tough."

It was nothing he couldn't have reasonably worked out for himself. He'd stayed with her for two nights while she was concussed. It was clear she lived alone. That was also the reason she couldn't simply get a ride from her parents and had had to rely on him and her friend.

She was trying to work that through too, reason out how he could have known when she hadn't mentioned a thing. She came up with the same reasons he had, even thought perhaps he might have read about it in the paper. She wanted to ask him how he knew, but the desire to know was outweighed by the ever deeper desire not to talk about it but the unknowing left her growing more suspicious of him than anything.

"I heard Mr. Mathews tell the doctor when it came to your emergency contacts," he said by way of explanation. It wasn't quite a lie. He had heard it, but he had been in a completely different part of the hospital at the time. Her emergency contact was her step-father who lived several states to the south.

"Oh," was her weak reply. 'He knew all this time and didn't say a thing.'

"I live by myself as well. My emergency contact is my boss." Even if it was for entirely professional reasons, he was still the only person who would mind if Edward were to drop dead, which was impossible of course, which was why he hadn't really worried himself about it.

Her expression was one of understanding and compassion, though both were inappropriate, seeing as she didn't understand, nor was he in any way to be pitied. By the time his parents had doubtlessly died he was beyond the point of caring.

"I... had no idea." 'No wonder...'

Not even in her mind did she expound on that, but he could sense that she felt more connected to him now. He had succeeded, she was letting him get close. She wasn't talking about it, but in her head that connection was there. Edward grinned, mentally of course. Taking the time to tame his food... It was a rather feline approach, he had to admit, playing with the prey first, but it was entertaining.

"Well, these exams aren't going to study for themselves," he said with a bright smile, a clear indication that the conversation was over.

She smiled back, relieved, thinking (incorrectly) that it hurt him to talk about his parents as it did her and that he could tell she didn't want to talk anymore either. 'It's like he can read my mind sometimes,' she mused.

.

They had the whole table (and library too, for that matter) to themselves so they carelessly scattered their books out across it. Once the hour ended a few freshman trickled in, not being old enough to drive themselves and waiting for rides, just like Bella. They didn't take any notice of them, being too high strung about exams. By that time Bella's mind had relaxed into the more agreeable task of studying.

After another brief time he heard her shuffling around in her bag. "Where is my pencil?"

There was one resting in between the two pages of the open book he was half-heartedly reading. Without looking up, he slid it over to her.

Bella went very still, in body and mind. He looked up, questioningly.

She shook herself and said, "Thank you," before ducking her head down to continue with her work. Or at least to pretend to. She wasn't thinking about exams at all anymore. 'Get a grip, it was coincidence. Not even coincidence. It was nothing. Stop being stupid. Focus.'

That last mental command did the trick and for the next half hour, he heard nothing but a dull buzz from her, mostly historically related. He didn't pay too much attention, he knew that material and eavesdropping while she studied was pointless. He had let his mind wander elsewhere as he feigned reading from his text. Not that he meant to, but he couldn't help but hear other people's thoughts.

Mostly they were along the lines of either studying or prom, save the librarian who was griping about a bunion on her foot, which made standing uncomfortable.

"Edward!" Bella shouted suddenly and loudly, though he was sitting right across from her.

"What?" His head jerked up, and he met her wide and, for some reason, terrified eyes. 'Oh my god, he can.'

It was then that he realized she hadn't said his name aloud at all, nor asked for a pencil. She'd merely thought those things. He'd slipped, big time, and now she knew.

It felt just as if her mind had been a trunk he'd been peering into and it had suddenly slammed shut, crashing down hard on whatever part of him he'd had inside, his own mind perhaps. He recoiled from her as if she had screamed violently in his ear at the same time shoving him bodily away, although she hadn't.

But it hurt. At least, he thought it did. It wasn't a pain he could feel, not physically, but being forcefully evicted from her mind had been... acutely unpleasant, to understate the matter.

Of course, to any outside observer, it would appear as if out of no where, he had twitched wildly for no reason. To Bella, however, his physical reaction only reinforced her suspicions. Rather than afraid and disbelieving as she had only moments ago, she now looked furious. He'd never seen her so livid. She rose from the table, shoved her books into her bag and stormed off.

He was still so dizzied from that violent expulsion from her thoughts that he couldn't even hear the angry parting words she'd screeched at him, much to the librarian's outrage.

It took him no time to collect his things and go after her.

"Bella!" he called after her, trying not to run too fast. "Bella stop!"

She didn't stop, not until she was in the parking lot. By that time the sound of her approaching Chevy was loud enough so that even she could hear it. In fact, he could see it pulling in even then.

"Bella wait!"

"No!" she shouted. "You stay out of my head, Edward Cullen! Stay out of my head!" Bending her head low so the hand in her sling could reach, she covered her ears of all things, as if that's where thoughts escaped from. If anything it should have been the eyes, not that that would have helped either, though she did refuse to meet his gaze. He rather suspected though that that had more to do with her fury. She needn't have bothered. She was completely closed off to him now. She'd shoved him out and slammed the door, mentally speaking.

She threw her bag into the back of the pick-up before it had even stopped and jumped inside, telling her friend to get her out of there, now.

The air had been going to use to yell back at her instead escaped him in a long sigh as he watched her and what's-his-face drive away.

"Alright, Stephenie Meyer, try getting your hero out of this one," he thought acerbically. Ah, but her characters were so much more cooperative. Her Bella accepted Edward's ability no problem because she was madly in love... or madly infatuated.

His Bella was just mad, period.

He expected this setback would drastically impede his plans.