Chapter Three: Edward Cullen

A quiet lull assumed as every head in the room bowed low, intensely engulfed with their projects. My bony fingers were dyed in shades of purple, green, blue, with a fresh coat of red dominating the mélange. Mr. Marx's arms flailed expressively, cutting into the air as he explained something to a student. Yes, it was a typical day in art class except for the fact that Edward Cullen was sitting across from me eyeing me with a mix of curiosity and deviousness.

When I walked into art that day he was there after weeks of being under the status of 'missing' he reappeared as if nothing had happened. Was he always like this? Dropping everything and leaving and then coming back when things were just settling? No one in the class acknowledged any great difference in the room with his presence in it (except of course every female who unashamedly ogled him from every corner of the class.) After I sat at the seat he took out for me, he introduced himself with an old-fashioned, other worldly politeness.

I never fit under the categories of "boy-crazy" or "guy-chaser" even in my days in Phoenix, but it was hard not to feel a little light-headed at the sight of Edward Cullen. You felt like a puny, insignificant mouse standing a foot from a stately and regal lion. The best thing for me to do was tune everything out and continue with my current project. Sadly, I looked down only to find what a complete train wreck it was. It was as if a five year old distracted me and had their way with my painting. At least, that's what it looked like – the work of a five year old.

Suddenly, Mr. Marx was behind me.

"Hey, Bella what's… this?" Mr. Marx asked politely, but with a tinge of pure confusion, and that was saying a lot. Mr. Marx had seen some pretty radical things in his time. Edward snickered in the background. I was embarrassed, and by habit I pulled at sleeves.

Oops.

Half my bare right arm was exposed in the stark, fluorescent light. I stopped as I gulped; hoping and praying Edward and Mr. Marx did not see a thing. The lights felt as if they were spotted on me, and the sweat rose within my every pore.

Mr. Marx laughed.

"Bella, I'm surprised. You never struck me as a slob like me. Go wash up your arm before class is over. Wouldn't want your new sweater ruined," he smiled and turned away.

Good. He thought they were just paint stains. I quickly rolled down my sleeve. I glanced back at Edward, but he was busy with his own sketch. As I observed him, he seemed to be moving with such a rapid pace. His hands glided swiftly and effortlessly upon the surface of the canvas. The way he moved was masterful, artistic. He should have been the one in the painting rather than the one creating it.

"Nice view?" he said with a sharp tone in his otherwise sonorous voice.

"Um uh... Yeah, great" I fumbled like an idiot. The heat was rising, he must think I'm one of those typically, love-struck teenage girls.

"You know, it always looks much more serene in the evening. The afternoon rays don't do it justice. There's a creek far beyond that wood, too…"

So he wasn't talking about himself, but the forested areas through the windows outside. It was beautiful.

"I'd have to see that sometime…"

He smiled a crooked smile at me. Twice, I secretly kept count.



We remained silent for a good portion of the class. I didn't want our so far pleasant conversation to end so abruptly. The silence had me yearning to learn more about the elusive Edward Cullen.

"Edward? Can I ask you something?" I implored gently.

"Yes, Bella?" he said with an elegance in every syllable.

"…Where were you all those weeks? You seemed to have… disappeared" I tried to sound casual.

The lightness in his face darkened. I had infringed upon private territory, and it he wasn't trying to hide that fact from me either.

"That's private information," Edward said sharply as his body tensed up.

"I'm sorry," I said a little defensively in attempts to conceal my hurt feelings.

"You shouldn't worry about those things," he said, "and you've got nothing to be sorry about"

The bell rang then, and Edward cleared through the eager mass of students. He was gone before I could even say goodbye.

Edward was still a mystery to me. The following days he neither spoke nor looked at me in the duration of English and art class. I couldn't help but feel as if I had said something or done something wrong. Normal guys weren't so sensitive.

It was lunchtime and I sat in my usual spot across from Jessica. Mike, Eric, and Angela were in our company. Edward, of course, wasn't to be seen.

"Jessica, tell me more about Edward Cullen," I asked her, feeling a bit silly for initiating a gossip session. Thankfully, I could count on Jessica and her face lit up with the mere mention of his name.

"Well, besides the fact that he's drop dead gorgeous there really isn't much to say! He's the deep, dark, and mysterious guy. So hot!" Jessica chirped away with her usual girly enthusiasm, "Why can't more guys be like Edward Cullen?"

Mike and Eric snorted together. To them, the whole concept of Edward Cullen was a joke.

"Can you tell me who is parents are?" I asked not even sure if I'd get any solid information.

"His parents… hmm… Oh yes, Dr. Carlisle and Esme Cullen. Carlisle is so handsome, and Esme is just beautiful! They're not his biological parents though, they adopted him. Along with these other weirdoes who used to go to our school! The Cullens are filthy rich, too. Just another plus! Basically, they keep to themselves. There isn't much I can tell you. You probably know as much as I do. Which is absolutely nothing!" Jessica exclaimed as she dipped a spoon into her strawberry, low-fat yogurt.

I smiled, "Thanks, Jess."

"Why do you want to know, anyway?" she eyed me suspiciously.

"Oh, you know. Just wondering" I offered.

"No need to be all shy about it. You've got a crush on Edward Cullen," Jessica tooted proud as a paleontologist discovering a fresh set of centuries-old bones.

"Uh, No. I was just asking. Can I ask you something without getting the third degree?"

Jessica turned away from the conversation as a girl with a high pony-tail and braces approached our table. She handed Jessica an orange flyer, and before I had time to ask 

what it was about she squealed. Mike, Eric, Angela, and I all glanced at one another awkwardly as stares began to head to our table.

"The Halloween dance is coming up soon!" Jessica piped.

"Uhhh, so?" Eric asked bewildered, "we never go to our school's stupid functions"

"Yeah, I know," Jessica said, "but it means that Halloween is coming up"

Silence and confusion.

"It means PARTY TIME," Jessica practically screamed at us causing others to stare at our table again, "we need to have a party this year. We are, in fact, upperclassmen now."

None of us were buying it.

"Come on! Forks needs to liven up a bit. If we throw a killer party we'd be hanging with those guys," Jessica said as she pointed to the table full of jocks and cheerleaders. What she meant was she'd be sitting next to Jacob Black, the handsome star basketball player of Forks High. He looked at our direction suddenly, and maybe my imagination got the best of me, but I swore he winked at me.

"Jess, you're crazy. And where exactly would we be throwing this marvelous party of yours?" Angela, usually the quietest voice in the group, asked.

"Bella's of course," Jessica smiled with triumph.

"What!" I spit out, "I never agreed to anything like this. Charlie would never-"

"Bella, Bella, Bella you are in serious need of a party, girl. We'll invite Edward if it makes you feel better… and besides," Jessica began sheepishly, "I already got Charlie's permission"

The anger that was slowly rising was at full power now.

"You did what!?" I was ready to lunge at Jessica for her complete disregard for my permission to have this party at my house.

"Please, Bella?" Jessica begged flashing her frequently used puppy dog face, "Charlie was ecstatic when I told him it was your idea"

Ugh. So she was playing the Charlie guilt card. I wasn't convinced.

"What do you guys think?" I asked Mike, Eric, and Angela ignoring the upbeat nod of Jessica.

"It'd be cool, Bella," Eric added, "We've never hung at your place anyway."

"I'd be willing to help with the decorations, food, and anything else," Angela said.

"I've already got a great costume idea for you, Bella. How about a sexy vampire? You're pale as heck you don't need anything but a hot leather two-piece, and you're good to go!" Jessica exclaimed with such unwarranted excitement. I rolled my eyes.

"Not so many people know you, Bella and how awesome you are. Maybe you should give this party a shot. I know it wasn't your original idea, but…" Mike added sweetly. I smiled at him, and nodded. Alright, fine I'll give in. I hated parties - absolutely hated them, but here I was giving Jessica Stanley the permission to send out her already hand-picked and stamped invitations.

We were working with linoleum blocks today. As usual, I was in my chair facing the window and its beautiful view of the outside world as well as what was right before me. Edward was creating a masterpiece as everyone but himself was having trouble carving with the sharp chiseling tools. He wasn't talking to me these days, and I couldn't say I was particularly thrilled about it. I felt rejected, but I couldn't let that get me down. Things at home were getting better with Charlie especially after we discussed the logistics of my Halloween party the other night. He was more excited about it than I was – the fact that I was socializing and doing something so normal as throwing my own party (I liked to call it a casual get-together.) The plan was that he would leave a few hours before it started to visit an old friend down at La Push. I told him his absence wasn't necessary and that I'd probably 

feel less awkward if he were around. He didn't have to, but he warned me about all the usual things parents worry about with kids and parties: parents, drinking, drugs. True was, he really didn't have to.

Jessica decided to keep the invite list to herself. She said I'd be too critical, and that it'd just end up being her, Mike, Eric, Angela, and me at the party if I had my way. She was right. Them and maybe one extra person. My thoughts were preoccupied with the party that I had holed away my darker aspects. I didn't receive any weird, follow-up calls after that night. I was glad, because I didn't know what I would do if I heard his voice again. The brackish texture my throat would get when I remembered how he said my name with such viciousness. I couldn't and wouldn't be able to handle it.

My linoleum block and chisel were not exactly cooperating with me this afternoon. My chisel kept slipping off the block nearly cutting my dangling fingers off. I glanced at Edward's block of linoleum at the intricate details of the roundish figure I couldn't exactly make out.

"So, Isabella Swan's having a 'Halloween bash'," Edward said with a cunning tone.

"How did you know?" I asked surprised he knew anything about the party.

"Oh, everyone's been talking about it." He said with a sarcasm in his voice, "teenage gallivanting galore"

"Well, it's true, and it's not going to be like that" I tried to hide my strange excitement that he was actual addressing me again. I glared at him confidently with attitude.

"You don't approve," he glared back at me.

"Don't approve?"

"Jessica Stanley is making you have this party. While you are completely and utterly set against it," I suddenly hated him and his voice. Was he always so self-righteous and confident in himself?

"No, she's not. I wouldn't let her do such a thing if I didn't want it myself," I said. The anger was starting to form within, and I chipped away at my block a little faster.

"I can tell you're lying," he said smoothly.

"Lying? And how is that?" I retorted

"Well, you're cutting away at that slab much faster than you were a minute ago," but before I realized my actions I felt the sharp edge glide deep into my palm. I didn't have time to react in pain, my blood was splat everywhere on the table, and the image of my own fallen blood gave me shivers. A cold sweat ran through my body, and my legs wobbled under my weight. I was about to tumble foreword, but a cold, strong grasp clenched at my waist before I did.

"Quick, take her to the nurse," Mr. Marx called out in emergency, "Are you alright, Bella?" the teacher was at my side.

"She looks like she's dead," one nondescript voice rang in the background.

Everything became a blur to me. My sight perished as well as my feet, but the cold hands still enveloped around me.

"I'm here, Bella. I'll take care of you"

My lids were heavy. It felt like my innards were filled in with cement, and I couldn't move.

"She really must be squeamish. She's out cold"

I know that if I wasn't passed out that my face would be the brightest shade of pink. Did I really just pass out in front of my entire art class, in front of the suave and graceful Edward Cullen? No, no, no. Only I could fall to such stupidity.

"Bella? Can you here me?" the voice called again.



I didn't answer back, but I was comforted by the frigidity of those powerful hands that were clamped around mine. I smiled to myself then, because they could only belong to Edward.