Disclaimer: I'm not Stephenie Meyer, don't sue me.

Chapter 3—Edward P.o.V.

Edward did not like his teacher. At all. Mr. Carper was a pompous, self-centered, elitist man, who believed himself to be above all others because he was hearing AND he could sign. Within the first five minutes of making Edward's acquaintance he had managed to humiliate himself and show just how little he really knew about Deaf culture.

When Mr. Carper had first walked into the office, he had gone up to Mrs. Cope and had, Edward assumed, introduced himself. Mrs. Cope had responded quickly before pointing at Edward. Then, much to Edward's surprise and disgust, Mr. Carper had walked over and started to talk to him. Out loud. For Pete's sake!

I can't hear you, Mr. Carper. I am entirely Deaf.

Mr. Carper had laughed and shrugged it off.

Of course you can't. I forget sometimes that you guys really cannot hear. Well, let's go! I have much to teach you.

Edward picked up his bag reluctantly and followed Mr. Carper out the door. He led them to the library, where Edward was to take most of his classes. Edward took a seat, while Mr. Carper went to look for a blackboard. Edward groaned and took out his laptop. He always typed his notes, so that he could access them more easily. He had struggled to learn how to write, and his handwriting was messier than most. He was opening a new Word document to take his notes on when a hand appeared between his face and the screen, waving. Edward blinked a few times, unable to believe that anybody could be rude enough to do such a thing. When he looked up, however, he found an expectant Mr. Carper.

Goodness, boy, you need to pay more attention!

Edward gritted his teeth.

Mr. Carper, I'm sure you could have gotten my attention just as well by tapping my shoulder.

Mr. Carper got a strange expression on his face, as if he found what Edward had just said amusing. Edward did his best to behave politely.

Anyway, you can stop signing out Mr. Carper. This is my sign name, he demonstrated a sign that was a mix of "teacher" and "wise." Edward did his best not to laugh. I came up with it a few years back. What is yours?

Edward watched Mr. Carper in shock. How could anybody become a Deaf teacher if he had no idea of proper Deaf culture or etiquette? A sign name was to be assigned by a Deaf friend, mentor, or family member, not oneself. It was supposed to represent a trait about the person, since spelling out somebody's name every time you wanted to let them know you are talking about them would be tiring and time consuming. Edward's sign name was the sign for bronze, followed by the sign for quiet. His grandmother, Esme's mother, who had also been deaf, had given it to him when he was still very young.

Well, we should start class. Let's start with English. Look at this sentence, Mr. Carper wrote "The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog," now, this is a pangram. That means it uses all the letters in the alphabet. OK?

Edward rolled his eyes. Mr. Carper, like most hearing people, thought he was stupid. He did not seem to realize the difference between being dumb (not being able to speak) and being stupid.

Actually, Mr. Carper, that sentence is not a pangram. You see, you changed the tense of "jumped." It is supposed to be "the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog," because otherwise you do not use the letter S.

Mr. Carper looked at Edward, back at the board, and then back at Edward. He did not look happy to have been caught in the wrong.

Alright, fine, he signed, quickly changing the verb into the present, now, tell me which word is the subject, which is the verb, and which is the indirect object.

Edward could not believe his ears. He was a Junior, for Pete's sake! Did this man, this alleged teacher, think that he was at such a low English level?

The rest of his classes went pretty much like that until the hour before lunch, at which point he went to the art classroom. Since in that class the directions were given briefly at the beginning of the class, he was allowed to take it with other students, as long as Alice interpreted the directions over for him. He got there before the other students and sat down at one of the large tables.

They were rectangular, and each could probably fit six students. He sat at a corner and put his belongings on the stool at the head of the table, where he knew Alice would want to sit. From that seat she could see the entire class, and from his seat he could see her easily if she signed to him. He also had a very good view to the blackboard.

The students began to arrive and take their seats. Alice was the last to come in, and she came in with a girl only slightly taller than her, with long brown hair. Edward remembered her from the office that morning. Now that he could see her more clearly, he saw that she was really, truly too pale to be healthy. She wore nice enough clothes, but, next to Alice's, they seemed to be dim. She looked very shy, particularly when Alice began to wave frantically at him. He found her blushing to be…cute.

Edward, this is Bella. She's in all of my classes so far! Isn't that cool? I'm taking her shopping over the weekend. I can already see it, we're going to be best friends!

Alice signed this so quickly even Edward had trouble keeping up. The other students, who had been moving around the room, probably chatting, all turned to look at them now. Edward groaned for the third time that day. They would, of course, notice that Alice was signing as soon as she did it. He risked a look around; everybody looked shock, slightly afraid, some freaked out, and a lot of them apologetic. Perfect, Edward thought, just perfect. Resigned to the situation, he turned back to Alice.

That's great, Al. Tell her I'm glad to meet her.

The girl, Bella, looked shocked at their signing. That would be awkward, of course. If Alice had taken such a liking to her, she would probably be over at their house often. He would not enjoy the awkward standing around, the curious glances, the patronizing attitude… not that he would ever begrudge Alice her friends, of course. He just did not enjoy their reactions to him.

This girl, however, surprised him. Just as Alice was turning to rely the message (or so Edward hoped; Alice had been known to pass on "modified" messages when she felt the need to), Bella herself responded.

That's alright, I can understand you. It's nice to meet you. My name is Bella.

Alice and Edward exchanged a bewildered look. They had not expected to come across a signing teen in Forks.

Well, that makes things easier, commented Alice, taking the seat Edward had saved for her, Bella, sit on my other side, will you? That way we can all sign easily.

Bella did as Alice said. Edward smiled; that was the smart thing to do. Nobody could really stand up to Alice and come out of the ensuing conflict unscathed. The teacher began to talk, and Edward tried to read her lips, but could not make anything out. She was dark skinned, and her name was Ms. Sanchez, so he assumed she was foreign. If she had an accent that could affect how easily he could read her lips.

However, as promised, as soon as Ms. Sanchez finished giving her instructions Alice signed it all to him. It was a simple assignment; they had all had to buy special journals for the class. That day they had to fill up the first page, simply writing about themselves, their family, and things that represented them. No art, Ms. Sanchez had said; this was going to be a map to their journey through their art.

Isn't that just a tad cliché? Journey through our art? asked Alice once she had finished signing, and, besides, don't we all kind of already know things about us and our family? Why should we write it down?

Well, answered Bella, her signing slow, either because she was out of practice of because her shyness reflected even into her signing, maybe this is for you to be able to develop your ideas. Once you start writing, the thoughts will just flow. You might discover a thought somewhere in there that you had never considered before.

Alice shrugged and began to write, as did Bella. Edward watched Bella for a little bit, shocked by her response, before he began to write as well. He wrote, as he always did in assignments such as this, about his being Deaf. Since this was an art class, he wrote about how visual ASL was, and how that affected his life. He wrote about his family, and how they supported him. And then, without really thinking much about it, he wrote a sentence about Bella.

"Some people," he wrote, "are put off by my being deaf. They think I'm a freak, or they feel as if I was broken and they had to fix me. Bella, however, has not shown any second thoughts about being my friend, and she is treating me perfectly well and amiably." When he realized he had written this he went back and crossed out Bella's name until you could not recognize it any more. He then wrote "others" in its place, and changed the verbs to fit the new subject.

For some reason, he felt as if his thoughts about Bella were too private to put down on paper. Where had they come from? He'd barely known her for ten minutes! He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and saw her avidly writing. Her handwriting was very small and precise, filling up every available centimeter of paper. Once she had finished with the front of the page, she turned to the back. Edward was fascinated. How could she have so much to say?

He then looked over at Alice, wondering if maybe he had written too little. Instead of Alice's pretty, curvy handwriting, however, he found clothing designs all over the page. He sighed. Alice had never been good at following directions when she did not agree with them. She always believed she knew better than others, and that nobody should bet against her. She was too sure of herself, Edward thought at times, but that only added to her charm. Suddenly Alice looked up. Edward noticed that most of the class did as well. He supposed Ms. Sanchez was speaking again. He was right, of course, and Alice passed on the directions smoothly.

Now we have to exchange our journals with somebody else. Our assignment for tonight is to take this other person's journal and draw in the next available two pages whatever the person's writing inspires us to do. If we do not feel confident with our drawing yet, she said, scorn in her voice; she was obviously more than confident with her drawing skills, you can write, make a collage, or any other way of expression you can think of.

Alright. Do we have to give our journal to a specific person, or can we choose? asked Edward, to clarify.

We can choose. Bella, she said, turning, will you exchange with me?

Bella's eyes widened in—could it be?—horror. She gripped her journal tightly and held it to her chest. She shook her head, her dark curls framing her face. She was even paler than before. She really did look terrified. Alice, on the other hand, looked very offended. I felt bad for her.

I'm sorry, it's just…I wrote some really personal stuff in here. I didn't know we were going to share. It's a big load to lie on a new friend's shoulders, Bella signed, distressed, trying to make the hurt in Alice's face disappear. It did, slightly, but she was obviously still bothered by it. I will take yours, though. Ms. Sanchez did not say that we could only take the journal of the person we gave ours to. I'm sure Jasper won't mind giving you his, though, so we can do a triangle. Or a square, she added, looking at Edward, if you want.

Alice agreed quickly, trying to hide the hurt that she still felt. I was curious now to know what exactly she had written that was so entirely private. Also, I wanted to know who this Jasper was, whom she trusted with this "big secret." Lucky for me, she seemed to be calling him over, so I would get to meet him soon.

Thanks to UltravioletSpark, iWant2BaMonsterToo, 5tarRach6330, Viper003, BroadwayBound96, beachcutie12, LJSkywalker, Paris Tokyo, JazzyJasper, and kdcullen for their encouragement.

Special thanks to:

BroadwayBound96—thank you so much for the insider tips! Would you mind terribly if I P.M.'d you some more as I go through the story, to clarify some things?

Questions:

Alyria Phoenix—oh, you're quite right, I'm making it confusing…but I'm doing it on purpose. Guess what's in the journal? Don't worry, I'll clear it up as we go along. I try to show you only what the person's P.o.V. would know, so it's a big ambiguous.

Chocks—by dumb I mean somebody who cannot speak, not somebody with a lower intellect. I'm sorry if you found it offensive.

THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO READ! Also, thanks to those who complimented how I depict specific characters. I take the time to think about them and try to write them as realistic as possible, and I love it when people notice!