Edward reflects on his encounter with Bella.

Edward, Chapter 3

I stood on the craggy edge of a glacier along the side of the appropriately chosen Mount Fury. I've been here several days, arriving Monday night in time to see the moonlight envelope the Cascades in wide, silver swaths. Now it was noon, and the sun was out. Bright rays reflected off the snow and ice that dominated the landscape as far as my eyes could see. Later today, I knew the mountains would become even more magnificent as they absorbed colors from the setting sun: gold, then orange, then purple. I enjoyed these spectacles of nature each day I was here. It was soothing; it showed me there was still something right about my world.

Mount Fury was among a group of peaks in the Cascades that was not far from the Canadian border. Some of the others in this location bore names like Mount Challenger, Mount Terror, Mount Triumph, and incredibly, Mount Despair. I wondered what had inspired these names, and who had chosen them. Later today, I would hike Mount Terror to see if it lived up to its description. I would studiously avoid Mount Despair, not wishing to tempt fate.

Surprisingly for me, it was pleasant being without a schedule. At home, I usually organize every day according to what I want to do. It helps to have structure when you are awake for 24 hours and the days and nights are seamless. The only real physical requirement for a vampire is the hunt, and hunting animals isn't as complicated as if we fed on human blood. That leaves a lot of time to fill, which is one reason I chose to work even though I don't need the income. During the day, I read in the morning and then practice my music. I've played the piano and the guitar since before I became immortal, and thankfully, those are human skills I'd been able to retain. I also write in my journals every day and spend time with my family: helping Emmett with editing, discussing architecture and renovations with Esme, and talking to Carlisle about anything. My father has learned and witnessed a great deal in his 300 years on earth. I would consider myself extremely fortunate if I was able to emulate even a fraction of his compassion and pursuit of knowledge.

Of course, my situation differs from the rest of my family in one major respect: without a mate, I don't need to make concessions on my time. I'd told myself over the years that the freedom to live out my existence exactly as I chose was just what I wanted and needed. I didn't like the weakness that came from admitting to loneliness, but here in the mountains – alone, of course, with much free time – it was harder to deny.

I'd come here to run away from something. That's also not an easy admission for me, but I knew I had to be honest. I wished I had been strong enough to render this trip unnecessary. But at least I'd made the right choice. I left essentially because I didn't want to hurt a human. Mission accomplished – I was several hundred miles from Forks, without having given in to temptation. The trouble was, what should I do next?

When I departed the hospital Monday morning, I was blaming an innocent girl for the anger I felt at myself. Here, with the benefit of mental clarity from the mountain air and my solitude, I knew that was irrational. She had done nothing to deserve my hatred. It wasn't as if she intended to torture me with the scent of her warm blood and inviting blushes. Surely she was wondering why I reacted that way to her. She'd looked at me as if I'd lost my mind.

I may have put my family in jeopardy with that horrible first impression. It would be irresponsible to ignore the need to set it right. Perhaps Bella's imagination was conjuring up all kinds of crazy reasons for my behavior. I couldn't read her mind, so I wasn't sure of what she was thinking. I would have to find another way to determine if she was growing suspicious of us.

That meant talking to her, and in all likelihood, befriending her. I'd have to gain her trust. I didn't know if I was strong enough for that. I had worked all these years to conform to a compassionate lifestyle, despite the inherent difficulties of doing so. Did I have the willpower to maintain a relationship with her? And what did I have to offer her, besides a constant threat to her life? I supposed I could serve as resource of information on Forks and the hospital. She was new; she would want to know more about the town and her workplace.

I began warming to that idea. I told myself it would be a kind of experiment, another foray into the sciences as it affected my species. I would be conducting research on myself, on my reactions to Bella. Of course, I would never let her know that. I would let her think I had only a gentlemanly interest in easing her transition to her new home. I could even help shield her from Janice's acidic behavior. I'd let slip a comment now and then, to show her I was aware that Janice could be harsh and that she shouldn't take it personally. A friend would do that sort of thing.

Friendship. Be friends with Bella Swan? I was not a good or safe friend for any human, to put it mildly, and I hadn't been friends with a human since I was one. Certainly, I had a number of acquaintances, but it was all part of the masquerade. Everywhere we'd lived, I was careful to establish cordial relationships with people I had to spend time with outside of my family, and I supposed you could say I'd even grown fond of some, like Larry. It was necessary to maintain our cover. But truly, I never wanted to be friends with any human in the time of my immortality. For one thing, there was always the concern about losing control. For another, I'd heard too much of their internal lives, and I was repelled by the pettiness, jealousy, avarice and stupidity that characterized human makeup. Now I'd found someone whose mind I couldn't hear. It would take some effort to discern her thoughts without my talent. Her intellect seemed to work differently than other humans. Were her thoughts and her character also different -- better, maybe?

I was shocked to find the idea intriguing. I recalled that first time I'd seen her, the images making me cringe because of the appalled expression on her face. At the time, my energy and attention had been sharply focused on keeping myself together and not killing her. But I realized that I noticed more about her than her fear. Her eyes, open so wide with terror, were a lovely and warm gentle brown. I had seen the rapid blush that suffused her cheeks when she stumbled – of course, I noticed that. Now, however, as she was frequently in my thoughts, I also saw how charmingly it tinted her otherwise pale, translucent skin. When she removed her jacket but hadn't yet put on the shapeless white lab coat, I could see she was appealingly petite.

She was attractive. I must not have been aware of this when I'd first seen her face in the minds of several hospital employees. For a moment, this made me question the accuracy of my ability. I knew, though, that while I could gain an extremely precise picture of whatever may be in someone's head, it still could not compare to the clarity of the actual subject. There was no substitute for the real thing, and that's as it was with Bella.

I wanted to get to know her, to explore her personality and discover her thoughts the hard way – the normal way – but I had no sure idea how to do it. That wasn't simply because my experience with women was limited, to say the least. I could remember very little of what my social life was like when I was human. As a vampire, I hadn't found any woman who interested me enough to consider her as a potential mate. So, there was a certain lack of practice when it came to successfully interacting with females.

There was also the significant complication of my deadly thirst for Bella's blood.

I would always be a danger to her. It was horribly selfish of me to even consider wanting her friendship. Perhaps, if I could remember that I needed to watch for signs that she recognized my family as the vampires we are, then – ironic as it was -- I might be able to subdue my inhuman urgings.

Of course, if I killed her, we wouldn't have to worry about her at all. But that would be unfair to Bella Swan.

I laughed out loud at myself. Unfair? What a horrible understatement! I pushed away those thoughts of killing and returned to the matter at hand:

What are you going to do?

I began to distill this lengthy conversation I'd been having with myself all week. I was deeply concerned for my family's safety, enough to ignore my thirst for her blood and instead try to plumb her uncooperative mind. As I was being honest, I admitted I felt an attraction towards Bella that was surely at odds with my monstrous instinct to take her life. When I remembered what Janice thought of her, an unfamiliar feeling of protectiveness surged in my empty chest. Would that be enough to keep her alive? Did I dare to try?

I believed I wanted to. I wanted to conquer the raw, uncivilized hunger that was forcing me to run. I wanted to be a man who would rise and bravely meet a challenge. And I wanted to find out more about this previously undetected emotional side of my immortal existence.

I knew now I would go back. It was as if I'd given myself permission to return. I only hoped I would recognize if my resolve grew so weak that I had to leave again, perhaps permanently. Carlisle's faith and Alice's visions would only go so far to assist me. The rest – the most – was up to me.