Bella, Chapter 7

The legends of the Quileute tribe include many references to animals. The Raven is considered a trickster who often assisted humans but also frequently displayed undesirable behaviors such as laziness or rudeness.

Edward is a vampire.

According to lore, a giant bird, known as a Thunderbird, brought the tribe a whale to consume when they had run out of food, thus saving them from starvation.

That's absurd. There is no such thing as a vampire.

The Quileutes were an isolated people who established trade with neighboring tribes. They were renowned fishermen, and the boats they constructed to fish and catch seal were true feats of engineering.

It's the only explanation; it matches the legends – those other ones, not the ones you're trying to read now. Of course, that was online stuff, and we know how reliable Web information is.

Like many tribes, the Quileutes aspired to supernatural powers. They also sought help from spirits whose good will would ensure not only that they survived, but would thrive. Young men traditionally asked for spiritual guidance as they went on individual, solitary journeys.

But legends must start somewhere. There has to be a catalyst.

One of the most prevalent stories asserts that the Quileutes are descended from wolves. Their legend in this respect is similar to the Navajo "Skinwalkers," although the Navajos believe the ability to transform is attained, not inherited.

Why would there be vampires in Forks?

A benevolent hero of the Quileute tribe, Q'wati is also known as the Transformer. The legend says the Quileutes were changed from wolves to humans by a Transformer. It was Q'wati who watched over the people of the tribe and taught them proper behavior. He also protected them from monsters.

Well, why not here? Maybe they were in Jersey too, but none of them saved your life there.

I sighed and tossed the books aside. This was useless. Fascinating as the Indian legends are, they could not take my mind off the bigger mystery, the one that doesn't seem to have any resolution – at least, none that makes sense. There was no mention in either book about the supposed truce between the werewolves and the "cold ones." I don't know why I thought there would be, since Ellen had made it very clear the topic was forbidden.

Was the truth really any of my business? Yes, it was, I decided. As I told Edward, I was lying about what happened, and that's something I never do. I'd made that exception strictly to protect him. Everything I witnessed was a secret I shouldn't know. I would keep that confidence as long as I lived, but I wanted an explanation from him in the meantime.

I'd asked him if we could continue the conversation in the future, and he didn't give me a direct answer. "Perhaps," he'd said. Well, perhaps I should bring it up. Could I ask him surreptitiously when I arrived at work, before he left? Or would it look too obvious if I followed him out of the pharmacy after his shift was over? "Edward, I want to talk about your superhuman strength…and while you're at it, can you tell me why you're so cold?" Sure. He'll discuss it right there in the hall, while dozens of other people are passing us by on the way to their offices.

As it turned out, I wasted a lot of time worrying about how and when to question him. On Monday morning, I arrived at the hospital a few minutes before 8, as usual. Edward had worked the weekend and was still at his desk when I walked in. I'm sure he could sense my anticipation, even though he steadfastly refused to look my way. As I neared my own desk next to his, he rose promptly and sped out the door, barely acknowledging my greeting. There was no inquiry about my knee, though this was the first time I'd seen him since the accident. His quick exit reminded me of the day I started at the hospital, when he glared at me so inhumanly and ran off as soon as he could.

I stood there, unable to move for a moment. Edward didn't walk past the dropoff; he must have gone out of his way when he left so he wouldn't see me again. Stunned, I walked slowly to my desk. So we were back to this stage now. I fought the tears which were threatening to spill; one escaped and fell on my hands, which I had numbly placed on top of my desk. Angrily, I wiped it away, trying to regain my composure before Janice and Rick arrived.

Oh, no you won't, I thought, outraged. While that sentiment could easily be directed at myself, I was referring to Edward. I would not let him get the best of me. We had almost become friends, I had grown increasingly attracted to him, and now he was treating me like a pariah again. This was humiliating. I had to put a stop to his influence over me; I didn't want anything like the heartache I'd allowed myself to go through with Bill.

Not only didn't Edward trust me, he apparently didn't even like me. Sorry I put you through all this trouble, I thought, still aiming my thoughts at him, as if he could read my mind. It won't happen again.

Walking over to the dropoff, I grabbed the prescriptions to see what came in. There was an order that required grinding pills for a toddler patient so a nurse could mix them in with food. It was a messy task. I left it for Janice.

Edward and I routinely re-enacted this strange dance that signified the current phase of our relationship, if it could be called that. Whenever he was scheduled to work, I arrived at my normal time – why should I change my habits for him? – and he left as soon as I walked in. With each abrupt departure, a cold shot ran straight through me. As soon as the door slammed shut, I felt the same defeated feelings of anger and hurt.

By the end of the third week, I couldn't take it any more. Resentment, pride, and yes, curiosity got the best of me. I buzzed myself into the pharmacy knowing exactly how it was going to play out, and I heard Edward stand as soon as I hung up my coat. I walked promptly to my desk so he would have to brush past me. Quickly, I grabbed his elbow, forcing him to look at me.

At first, surprise registered on his face. "Edward? Is everything all right?" I asked, letting go of his icy arm. I couldn't help letting a trace of worry slip into my tone.

Softness came over his features once our eyes locked together. Almost imperceptibly, he pulled his head back and shifted his expression to rigid formality, as if he remembered that he wasn't supposed to have contact with me. "Yes, fine, Bella," he replied shortly. He turned away and mumbled "Enjoy your day," no longer looking at me.

"Enjoy your day"? That's the best you've got, Edward? After all we'd been through, he talks to me like he's one of those greeters at WalMart. I shook my head and walked back to my desk. There was no point in saying anything else.

I can deal with anything as long as I have the right information. Even if a situation is totally impossible, I'm more likely to adapt once I know the reasons behind it. Edward was again denying me that peace of mind. He had to realize how important the truth is to me; I'd told him very directly. I tried to believe that his reality, whatever it may be, was making it difficult for him to trust me. Perhaps he felt he didn't know me well enough yet, but in the weeks since the accident, I hadn't said anything beyond the version of events maintained for public consumption. I knew he was aware of that.

At this point, I wished we'd never talked or had any kind of communication other than that of courteous colleagues. Even Faith, who brought me so much joy, was a daily reminder of Edward. "It's not your fault, though. I wouldn't trade you for anything." I said, stroking her while she purred reassuringly. Animals never prevaricate.

My saving grace was my weekly visit to La Push. Tutoring Wendell was thoroughly enjoyable, plus I got to see Ellen. Often, I'd head down there a little early so I could sit and talk with her. It took my mind off of everything else; she was so upbeat and warm.

The next Thursday evening, I decided to stop at Black's general store to get something for dinner, intending to eat it at the rec center with Ellen. I smiled a greeting to the Indian gentlemen who were on the porch, then headed straight to the deli counter. Billy's familiar hat showed behind the refrigerator case, bobbing behind some loaves of bread that were stacked above the glass.

"Hey, Billy. I don't know if you remember me; I'm Bella Swan. I came here about a month ago. Jacob helped me find a car…"

My voice trailed off as Billy stood up straight in response to my voice. His face showed none of the cheer I'd seen the first time we met. He looked tired, worn, and almost grievous. I was shocked speechless, unsure of what to say next.

Billy smiled a little. "Of course, Bella. How are you? Did you come to see Jacob again?" His exhausted voice matched his expression.

"Is he here?"

"Well, he's out back, but he's with some friends," he replied hesitantly.

"I'd love to see him. Can I get a sandwich first?" I was almost afraid to ask.

Billy chuckled and shook his head, finally remembering I was a customer. "Sure. What would you like?"

I ordered a turkey sandwich and Billy suggested I walk straight through the back door, as we had the last time I was here, although he didn't accompany me.

Jacob was in the garage with the same group of guys I met the night of my accident. "Hey, Jacob—whoa!" I stopped where I was when I saw the difference in his appearance.

The long black silky curtain framing his face was gone. Jacob was now sporting a closely cropped skullcap of hair. His head turned when he heard my voice, and I saw right away that he looked even more weary than that last time I'd seen him.

Still, his face brightened with that multi-watt grin. "Hey Bella! What're you doing here?"

"I'm on my way to the rec center, and I stopped to get something to eat. But I'll leave if you're busy," I said, nodding at his friends.

Jacob looked uncomfortable. "It is kind of a bad time. Maybe another night. I'll walk you to your car." He pushed himself off of the Rabbit, where he'd been leaning. It didn't seem as if he'd been working on the car, even though he was so determined to get it running when I'd met him.

His friends stood silent as Jacob told them, "Be right back." We walked around to the front of the building, Jacob's gaze uncharacteristically cast downward.

"Sorry. I guess I should have called," I said apologetically.

"No problem. I'd just made some plans with the guys," he said vaguely.

"How've you been?" I asked curiously. He looked so tired, and almost depressed – definitely not like the Jacob I'd seen before.

"Oh, I'm okay. Why?" he asked, still not looking at me.

"You look beat. Working too hard?"

"Mmm, no. Hardly working," he said, and I could see a grim smile on his face.

"What's up with the hair?" I asked curiously.

"It's just easier to take care of," he replied. "Do I look like a complete dork?" Jacob was trying to joke with me as we had before, but I could tell it took some effort. This wasn't the genuine lightness that came easily to him.

"No, I like it. I don't think you'd ever look like a dork," I replied, trying to improve his mood. I didn't even get another smile.

When we arrived at my car, Jacob held his hand up to say goodbye. "See ya, Bella. Thanks for stopping by." And then, as an afterthought, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Sorry."

I watched him walk away, wondering what he had to be sorry for. Maybe he was just apologizing for being unavailable. It seemed like he was referring to something else.

Still feeling the stares of the men on the porch, I got in my car and drove to the rec center. Ellen and I chatted while I ate and waited for Wendell. She was extremely excited that the wedding plans were at the stage where her bridesmaids needed dress fittings. I listened to her, amused and honestly not at all bored. Ellen was delightful no matter what she was talking about.

During a lapse in the conversation, I quickly jumped in. "Hey Ellen, have you seen Jacob Black lately?"

She thought for a moment. "Not for a week or so. Why?"

"I stopped at his dad's store to get my sandwich, and I saw him briefly. He really didn't talk much, which – well, I haven't known Jacob long, but that doesn't seem like him," I said. Ellen chuckled and nodded her head.

"He looked really tired, like he hadn't slept in ages. Even Billy looked kind of depressed. Do you know if anything's wrong?"

Now Ellen was concerned. "I haven't heard anything. Usually I'll get wind of something if there's a problem in the family."

"I don't want to embarrass him," I said hastily. "I'm kind of worried. He's always so cheerful, you know?" I frowned. "If you hear of anything wrong and there's some way I can help, will you let me know?"
"Of course," she replied, and reached over to pat my hand. "I'll see what's up. Don't worry, I won't make it obvious."

Wendell had arrived and was walking over to our table, a big smile on his face. He really seemed to look forward to these sessions, much to my satisfaction. We reviewed his homework and I asked if there was anything specific he'd like my help with. I'd told him early on that if he read anything but wasn't sure of his own accuracy, he should bring it in. I wanted to emphasize real-world application of his lessons as much as possible.

His features grew tangled with frustration. "I should have remembered my daughter's prescription. Sometimes I worry that I'll read the label wrong when I have to give it to her, if my wife isn't around. Even though Maria can read fine, I want to know what it says for myself," he explained.

"Of course. You can always bring it next week. What kind of medicine is it?"

"I don't remember the name because it's a big word," he admitted sheepishly. "But she takes it for her asthma."

"I see," I said sympathetically.

"They've been giving it to her at the clinic in Olympia. I can't always tell when they've changed the dosage or anything," he said miserably.

"I promise you we'll solve that problem before you know it. In the meantime, bring in the pill bottle. I can read it and help you with any other questions, too," I assured him, reminding him that I worked as a pharmacist.

Then I thought back on what he'd said about the clinic. "You take her all the way to Olympia? Did you know there's a clinic at the Forks Hospital? It's much closer," I said.

Wendell's expression quickly darkened, giving him an unfamiliar sinister appearance. "We don't go there," he said flatly.

So he was among those who wouldn't use the hospital because of Dr. Cullen. Strange, that this otherwise intelligent man believed in those stories. And then I recalled my own suspicions about the doctor and his son. Perhaps Wendell wasn't too far off base.

"Sure, that's up to you and your wife. Just thought I'd mention it," I replied, moving on quickly.

Wendell's reaction stuck with me. There was no mistaking the change in his demeanor after I brought up Forks Hospital. I felt sad for Dr. Cullen. His expertise and bedside manner were exemplary, and I'd been around doctors long enough to know that can't be faked. Regardless of what else was in his background, I'd always have a high opinion of him. Dr. Cullen could be Satan himself and I'd still trust him the next time a car tried to mow me down.

And Edward…well, I knew my anger was really frustration because he kept thwarting my need to know. He had done a lot for me: giving me a sublime coffeemaker, helping me with the cat at his own cost, and of course, saving my life. I suspected most, if not all, of these actions came at great personal expense. I could never overlook that.

I just wish he trusted me enough to let me in.

The temptation to constantly check the work schedule was too great. I told myself I merely wanted to prepare for our encounters at work, but honestly, I was still eager to see him. He was slated to work Thursday and Monday nights, and was off during the weekend. This is sick, I chided myself. He's treating you like dirt and you're acting like some teenage fangirl.

Carrying my usual armload of coffee mug, raincoat and purse that Friday morning, I hit the access buttons on the pharmacy door. Yes, he was still there. No, I wasn't going to look at him, much less say anything to him. Maintain your pride, girl, I reminded myself.

I sighed and walked over to my desk, so deep in thought about him that I almost didn't hear him speak.

"Good morning, Bella," Edward said softly.

Still standing, I twisted in his direction, glaring at him in disbelief. Then, I looked around the office – wildly, theatrically – and snapped, "Did we hire someone else named Bella? Because I was under the distinct impression you preferred not to talk to me." I pulled open a bottom drawer, threw in my purse and tried to slam it shut for added effect, except the strap got stuck and the draw bounced back open, hitting me in the hand.

Edward glanced away, trying not to smile. That didn't exactly calm my anger. "Okay, I deserve that. Please believe me, I didn't mean to be rude to you." He looked at me again, trying to win me over with that smoldering gaze. It almost worked until I thought about what he said.

"You 'didn't mean' to be rude to me? Jeez, I'd hate to be around you when you're intentionally impolite," I said sarcastically.

He brought out the heavy artillery: his sweet, crooked smile. I had to look away or I'd crumble.

"Bella, I…" he began, then stopped. I waited, desperate to hear his next words, but he only shook his head, as if he was struggling.

"Please just tell me what's going on here," I said, trying to ask and not plead. "You've done things for me no one else would. You sent me that coffeemaker and paid for the cat – don't deny it, I know it was you," I warned, because I saw his eyebrows shoot up. "You saved my life under…" I hesitated, "…extraordinary circumstances, and now you ignore me. I'm starting to believe you regret everything."

He scowled, angry for a moment. "You think I'm sorry I saved you?"

"What else should I think? Seriously. Help me out here, Edward," I said defiantly.

He was already shaking his head. "Nothing could be further from the truth," he said emphatically. Then he added softly, "I've been trying to think of a way to explain it all, but it's so difficult….so complicated. It seemed easier, and safer, to ignore you." He must have seen the look on my face because he quickly added, "I'm not proud of that, but I'm being honest here."

I snorted, "That's a first."

He sighed. "Okay, I deserve that too. I deserve all your anger."

"Edward," I said, also speaking softly now, "I don't want to be angry with you. Mostly, I'm hurt that you don't trust me with the truth."

He stared at me thoughtfully, not responding. And at that moment, Janice arrived. Thank you, Janice. Always good to see you, I thought sourly.

Edward said quietly, "We'll continue this conversation, I promise." He stood up and left, giving Janice a curt nod.

Really. He promised me we would talk again? I suppose I should be grateful, since it was more than he'd given me before. Still, I was wary about banking on that guarantee.

Saturday's weather was nice enough for a bike ride, so I decided to head over to the cemetery. It's not as ghoulish as it sounds; I was growing interested in the history of the area, and I wanted to see the dates and names on the graves. I thought Forks' settlers might be buried there, and if so, I wanted to make etchings of their headstones.

The day was cloudy as usual, but the rain held off through late afternoon. Once my laundry was done, I had enough time left to ride. I pulled on my bike shorts, secured my helmet and hoisted my backpack over my shoulders.

The breeze on my face and the physical exertion felt wonderful. I pulled into the cemetery's drive and left my bike in a spot that gave me easy access to the entire site. The cemetery wasn't very large, fortunately. It was bordered on three sides by forest, the same as almost everything else in Forks. I pulled out tracing paper and a lead pencil, and began reading the names that accompanied the perfectly aligned graves.

There were some grave markers for the Pullen family, an important Forks clan who were homesteaders from the late 1800s. I found the names of others who migrated to the area near the Bogachiel River: Henne, Hemphill, Morganroth. Lost in concentration, I no longer heard the sounds of traffic flying by on Route 101. Huge lumber trucks and cars use the highway constantly, but I was engrossed in my exploration. Eventually, I noticed an unfamiliar noise in the background, a low rumbling that became louder and slightly higher in pitch. I looked up at the woods from where I sat, trying to pinpoint the source.

As the volume increased, I recognized the sound as growling. I assumed it was some type of canine, but I still couldn't see it. Normally I'm not afraid of dogs, but this distinctly unfriendly snarl had me worried. I was on the ground in front of a headstone, debating whether I should make a run for it or stay put. Leaves stirred at the fringe of the forest, and then a huge, sienna-colored dog slowly walked out, his snout and eyes contorted with rage.

Once it was closer, I saw that it wasn't a dog. It was a wolf.

The animal was massive, and it was walking straight toward me. No longer just growling, it was now viciously barking and snapping. Enormous jaws opened and closed, opened and closed in a quick, deadly rhythm. Its teeth clacked together ominously with each snap, and the black eyes were nearly mad with fury.

I was petrified, frantically trying to think of anything I could do. Would playing dead help? But now the wolf was focused on something behind me, and its rage and snarling were directed at whatever that was.

"Bella."

I jumped and gave a little cry of surprise. There was no mistaking the voice behind me. Without seeing him, I knew Edward was there.

"Bella, are you alright?" he asked urgently.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Don't move."

"Don't worry, I won't," I breathed.

I heard a rustling noise and realized Edward was coming over to me. I was terrified the wolf would take the motion as a challenge and charge him.

"Why are you moving?" I whispered.

"I'm walking toward you. Stay calm."

The animal continued snarling, almost at a roar. Every so often it stopped as if it was catching its breath. If I didn't know better, I would swear the wolf was saying something. The barks and growls were like a warning.

In that instant, I grasped that the wolf was after Edward, and not me. I stood up where I was.

"What are you doing?" Edward whispered fiercely.

"I'm going to step away from him and over to you."

"Bella, no! Get down!"

"I'm backing up," I repeated. "Keep walking toward me and stand behind me. Stop when you reach me. I can't see you and I don't want to turn my back on him."

"I'm already here," he said through gritted teeth.

I was right in front of Edward; I would know that amazing smell anywhere. We were almost exactly lined up, except that he was a lot taller than I.

Suddenly, the wolf stopped snarling. It stood there, watching us for a few moments. No one said anything.

The wolf turned and darted away, returning to the woods. If I wasn't so scared, I would have admired its beauty and grace.

I collapsed on the ground. Edward grabbed me and said, "Bella! Bella, are you all right? Do you feel faint?"

"I'm okay. Just a little shocked," I said, dazed.

He took my hands in his cold grasp. "Do you feel like you're going to faint?" he asked again, intensely concerned.

"No, I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine." Now that it was over, I was gasping. "Do you have a water bottle?" he inquired briskly.

"It's on my bike," I replied. Edward found it and returned to help me up. I took a long drink before asking, "What was that?"

"It was a wolf," he answered.

"I know that. But what was it doing here? And come to think of it...." I looked at him closely. "What are you doing here?"

He dropped his gaze away from mine. "My car is over there," he said, gesturing toward the cemetery's entrance. "Can you walk?"

"Yes. Really, I'm okay now." We started back down the road in silence. He'd taken my bike and was pacing along side of it. I stole several glances at him from the corner of my eye; he didn't speak again, and then we were at his Volvo.

"Will you be taking me home?" I watched as he loaded the bike in the car, which had one rear seat lowered as if waiting to accommodate it -- the same as when he'd stopped for me and the cat on Route 101.

"No," he said, finally looking straight at me. "I think you need something to eat. Let's go into Forks and stop at the cafe."

The hostess walked over to us as soon as we entered, her gaze roaming over Edward appreciatively. She led us to a table near the center of the dining area, but Edward stopped her and asked for something further back, in a corner.

Eyebrows raised, she said, "Sure. Come on over here," and directed us to a booth. Her expression revealed her disbelief that someone like Edward would want privacy with someone like me. I'm sure that wasn't merely because I was so grubby.

Edward motioned for me to take a seat and slid in along the opposite side. He looked me over carefully and asked, " Are you sure you're not in shock?" I could see genuine worry still on his face, and even in his posture.

"No, I'm not," I said calmly. "I was shaken up, but I think I'm past that now. The worst of it, anyway," I added.

Edward motioned to the waitress and addressed me again. "You need something to drink -- something with sugar. How about some soda?"

"Ginger ale sounds good," I replied. She wrote that down and asked, "What would you like to eat?"

Edward looked at me expectantly. I hadn't even glanced at the menu. "Um...I guess I'll have a cheeseburger and a spinach salad."

The waitress was staring at Edward in awe. "And you, sir?" Her tone was much warmer when she spoke to him. I began to feel a little extraneous.

"Nothing for me, thanks." He smiled at her briefly before turning his attention back to me.

I tilted my head. "You're not hungry? Or in need of a drink? That wolf was just as close to you."

He cast his eyes downward, brushing away crumbs with his hand. "No, I don't need anything."

I drew in a long breath, which I'm sure he heard but ignored. "Edward."

"Yes?" He was still focused on the table.

"How..." I hesitated. "How did you know I was at the cemetery?"

"I don't suppose it would suffice if I told you I was just passing through," he said, a small smile playing around his lips.

"No. Of course it's possible you know someone buried there, but I'm quite certain it's more than that."

He shook his head, still smiling. "Actually, I don't know anyone buried there." And then his eyes met mine. "I followed you there."

I was more puzzled than shocked. "Why?"

"I was...concerned about you."

This did not clear anything up. "Concerned over what?"

He set his elbows on the table and leaned in to me. "I worry about your safety."

I bristled. "I've taken my bike out on roads in far more urban settings than this without any problem."

"Has a wolf ever stalked you before?" He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Did you know the wolf was going to show up?" If he affirmed that, it wouldn't have surprised me. "And anyway, I got the distinct feeling that wolf was after you and not me."

Stunned, he widened his eyes and nodded. "Yes, he was." He pushed himself back in the seat and said, "There isn't much you miss, is there?" I shrugged my shoulders, trying to appear offhand, but his compliment made my heart soar.

The waitress brought my soda and food. "Are you sure there isn't anything I can get for you?" she asked Edward suggestively. She had her back to me, and he regarded her with annoyance. "No. Thank you."

We didn't speak for the next several minutes; I filled the time by drinking soda. I had a flood of questions that would tumble out in a blur if I started talking, so I thought it best to let him speak first. But he watched me expectantly, as if giving me the floor.

I closed my eyes briefly, trying to narrow down a place to start. "You know I have a lot of things I want to ask you," I said. "Today's adventure only adds to my list."

He nodded his head somberly. "Tell me where you want to begin, and I'll talk while you eat."

"How did you know where to find me?"

"I saw you on your bike. When I realized you were staying on the road, I went home and got my car, and then located you at the cemetery," he said, as if this would explain it.

I frowned. "So when you started to follow me, you weren't in your car?"

"That's right."

"Were you out walking and you saw me ride by? Because I didn't see you..."

"No."

I rolled my eyes, exasperated. "If I have to keep pulling this out of you, my food is going to get cold," I complained.

He smiled, and then said, very quietly, "At first I was running alongside you, but I was in the woods so you couldn't see me."

My mouth opened and then closed; fortunately I hadn't taken another bite. I said calmly, "You could keep up with me on foot?"

"Yes, I can. Very easily."

"Is this somehow related to your ability to stop cars with your extremities?"

He was watching me with a fond, almost tender expression. "Again, very observant. Yes, you could say it's all related."

I blushed, warmed again by his praise. "Back to the cemetery. You got your car and then drove over to find me?" I asked.

"Yes. I pinpointed your location and watched you from the woods."

"That sounds kind of weird, you know." Although let's face it, everything in this situation is weird, I thought.

"As I told you, I was worried about you." He had the wrapper from my straw in his hands, and he kept twirling and unraveling it along his slender index finger.

I sighed. "You keep saying that. Is there something else I should know?"

He stopped fooling with the wrapper and stared at me, his eyes guarded. "What do you mean?"

"Is someone out to get me? Did Janice put a hit out on me?"

Finally, his serious expression broke and he laughed. "No, nothing like that."

"I'm still eating my burger, see?" I said, picking it up in my hands. "Please feel free to fill in the gaps here. Maybe you could start with how you 'pinpointed' my location, and then tell me exactly why you're so worried about me."

"All right. I found you by following your scent." I stopped chewing, then swallowed, waiting for him to go on.

"And I worry about you because you seem a little accident prone," he added.

I smiled. "In the way that the Pacific Ocean seems a little wet?"

He met my grin with one of his own, and it was as if his gaze was a caress. I forgot how angry I'd been with him these past several weeks.

"Exactly. It's like fate has it in for you."

"I'm not that bad. I've made it this far in life, as you've noticed."

"No thanks to me," he mumbled, turning away.

"Actually, if it wasn't for you, I would be dead." I reached over and put my hand around his. "I don't understand why you would say that."

He started to pull away from me, then stopped. We sat there for about a moment, me looking at Edward, and Edward looking at my hand over his. What was behind the expression on his face, I wondered? He appeared almost yearning. Rather than ask, I waited for him to continue.

"I was in the woods watching you when I detected the scent of the wolf. That's when I stepped out," he said, gently withdrawing from my grasp. "I was frantic over the possibility it would attack you, but when it started to walk, I realized it had also tracked me. Frankly, I think he and I were there for the same purpose: to protect you."

"You pointed out that I saved your life a few weeks ago. I believe, this time, the roles may be reversed. I'm quite certain you saved me from that wolf," he added thoughtfully.

"I saved you? How could that be?" I asked, completely mystified.

"The wolf realized I was also there, and he intended to defend you by whatever means possible," he said.

"Why would I need protection from you?" I tensed, waiting for his answer.

"Because of what I am." He said it matter of factly.

I sat back, astonished at his admission. "The wolf knows...what you are?"

"Yes." A brief pause while he resumed playing with the straw. "Do you?" He looked at me intently.

"Perhaps." I threw his word back at him.

"Elaborate, please." He folded his arms.

"Ah, now you want specific information from me." I nodded my head pensively and took another bite of my cheeseburger.

"Yes, I do. Please, don't make this difficult," he said, his eyes imploring me.

I couldn't look away, nor did I have the heart to tease him anymore. "I'll set aside your double-standard for a moment, because I can see you're more worried about this than I am," I said. He looked puzzled and was about to speak when I held out my hand to silence him.

"We both have a science background. When I see firsthand an example of, say, superhuman strength, or someone knowing something about me that cannot be discerned without my disclosure, I first consider a rational explanation," I began.

He nodded. "Go on."

"But some things have no rational explanation. How is it that an innocent child who is severely ill with cancer, whose family prays for her every day, will go into remission, while an equally innocent child with the same exact prognosis dies? Some would say there were genetic-based reasons why the second child died. Others would believe that prayers saved the first child. Will we ever really know?"

Edward watched me quietly with another unreadable expression on his face. "And, I would also ask, should we know? Perhaps there are some things that should be accepted on their own. Sometimes there are miracles and sometimes there are not. It's just the way the universe works. Or maybe, it's the way God works," I mused. "Anyway, I know enough to know I'll never know everything."

"Since I arrived in Forks, I've been learning more about the mystical side of life in this region. I've grown interested in local history and Indian culture, hence my visit to the cemetery." I began choosing my words very carefully. "There are numerous legends here -- quite beautiful, often supernatural stories, dating back many years."

I saw Edward stiffen in his seat. "One of these legends has to do with an...agreement between the tribe and a small group that had taken up residence not too far from the reservation. The tribe was concerned that their people would be hurt by this group, but the elders were assured that would not happen."

"Right before I became aware of this, my life was saved in a manner that was completely impossible. There was definitely no rational explanation for it. Now, maybe I should just accept it as a miracle. But the scientist in me couldn't let it go. The more I found, the less I saw of science and the more I saw of what fit in with the Quileute legend."

"What did you find? What fit in?" he asked softly.

"I looked online, of course, and although I know the information there is notoriously unreliable, a lot of it matched. Your skin, your speed, your strength, your beauty – it was described in myths the world over," I said.

Eating was now impossible; my stomach was a hard knot. I couldn't believe what I was saying.

"It all fits. The evidence – the raw data, if you will – is there. It's the conclusion that's inconceivable. I need you to confirm it," I said calmly.

His fists were clenched so tight I thought his skin would tear. "Confirm what, exactly?"

"That you're a vampire."

He was staring at me. "And if I do?"

"I told you, I just want to know the truth. The rest of it doesn't matter," I said calmly

Unbridled fury flowed over his features. For a moment, I thought I was wrong and had insulted him terribly. Instead, he hissed, "Not matter? How could it not matter?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but now it was his turn to speak. The words poured out in anger and disbelief. "Do you have any idea what this means for you? Any notion at all of the danger you're in? Why do you think I've ignored you all these weeks? We work very hard to restrain ourselves around humans, but we can never be completely trusted. I can never be trusted!"

"Then why are you finally being so honest with me? Are you telling me the truth now, before you – I don't know, bite me? That wouldn't make sense." I wondered if he could see how much I was trembling.

His features softened. "Bella, I don't want to hurt you. No, never," he said, almost lovingly. "I don't know how well I can control my...impulses." The sadness in his eyes was palpable, and I almost responded to that, instead of his words, before he resumed talking.

"Do you remember the first day we met? Your first day at the hospital?" Edward asked me.

I nodded. "I thought you hated me."

"Oh, I did. I did hate you. I had my world completely organized, all tidy and managed. And then you walked through that door, and all the years I'd spent training myself to resist started to slip away. I very nearly killed you right there."

I shuddered, and this was something Edward noticed. "Yes, you should be afraid of me!" He grimaced and leaned across the table. "Never forget what I am capable of. Never forget what I am."

Despite his strong words, there was contradiction in his eyes. He was warning me for my safety, that was clear; yet I could see him pleading with me to also believe his declaration that he wouldn't hurt me.

"How is it that you've lasted this long? That was, what – a few months ago?" I asked.

He smiled a little ruefully. "I was so angry those first few days. I was determined that you were not going to defeat me. There was no way I was going to upset the life...existence" – he corrected himself – "I worked so hard to create. And I also would not endanger my family."

I thought of his father but held off on bringing up the similarities I'd noticed. I wondered if everyone in his family was the same.

"But I could see you knew something was wrong, and I was very concerned that you would start asking questions. Enough people in Forks already think the Cullens are unusual, although they're generally too cautious to pry. You're the only one I've met so far who can withstand taking a closer look," he said, smiling. I blushed once again; those poor attempts at hiding my stares hadn't worked.

"So I waited, and watched, and listened. You never mentioned anything to anyone about the way I treated you that morning. I was shocked that you didn't gossip about me. I paid attention to everyone you spoke with, almost every conversation you had. I told myself it was just to hear any suspicions you might have, but the truth is..." Edward hesitated. "The truth is, I was enjoying getting to know you, however indirectly. I've learned a great deal about you, all of it amazing. You have more qualities than I ever believed I would see in one person," he said tenderly.

My pulse raced. I'd seen this look on his face before, but I didn't believe it could be anything more than friendly interest. My stated goal had been to hear more of his story. I never dared hope I would be any part of it.

I pulled myself back to my other questions. "All these conversations you said you'd heard – how is that possible? You were never around."

He smiled. "Oh, I was close enough to hear. My hearing, and my eyesight, are far, far stronger than yours – stronger than any other species." As if it wasn't extraordinary enough to hear him refer to himself as another species, he then added casually, "Also, I can read minds."

Edward waited while that sank in. "You read minds?" I said weakly.

"Not everyone's. I have recently encountered the one person, human or immortal, whose mind I cannot penetrate." He looked at me meaningfully.

My eyes widened. "Me?"

"Yes. And that added to my worry. I didn't have my usual advantage of knowing thoughts before actions. So, I had to resort to listening to other people's minds when they spoke to you."

"So you were eavesdropping on my conversations?"

"Technically, they were the conversations of the people whose minds I invaded. They just happened to be talking to you."

I grabbed my soda, which was almost entirely water by now, and drank to buy myself some time before replying. Edward watched me. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"That's not something you usually have to ask, I guess."

"That's true. And I have been wondering what you're thinking ever since we really got into this conversation. No, wait," he said, deliberating. "I've wanted to know what you're thinking ever since I met you."

"I can honestly say the same thing," I replied.

He smiled grimly. "You must have thought I was insane."

I nodded. "Yes. We hadn't even met -- I couldn't imagine what I'd done." I choked on those last words. That memory, and this unimaginable conversation, were weighing down on me.

Edward moved to hold my hand but then pulled away. His indecision, especially after all we'd discussed, made the tears come harder.

"Bella?" he said uncertainly.

"It's a lot to take in, Edward." He nodded, at a loss for words.

I changed the subject. "Why do you think you can't read my mind?"

He shrugged. "I wish I knew. You're very different from every human, as I said before. You have so many qualities and characteristics that are seriously lacking in others. You seem to understand the value of discretion, of not constantly claiming the limelight. Maybe this is just a part of that. You're private; you don't seem to be someone who wants to impose, or even allow someone else to help you," he said, that mischievous smile appearing again.

"It's just the way I am." I glanced away because I felt embarrassed and thrilled and completely overwhelmed, and I was worried it would show.

"And for the most part, that's wonderful." I almost started to cry again. "It would be smart, though, to graciously take medical advice when you're almost killed and the doctor orders someone stay with you," he admonished.

"Your father..." I said, and then stopped.

"What about him?" Edward said.

"I couldn't help but notice the similarities between you."

He knew what I meant. "Yes. We are similar."

"How many people are in your family?"

"In addition to Carlisle, there is my mother, Esme. They are our foster parents. There's also my sister Rosalie and her husband Emmett; and Alice and her mate, Jasper. Though we're not biologically related, we consider ourselves siblings."

"And you're all...the same?" I asked.
"Yes."

"Alice was with you the day of the accident," I noted.

"She came to the hospital that morning to see me."

"You were both in the hallway, walking to the garage. Something happened between the two of you right before you ran to me, didn't it?" I asked.

His features hardened. "Yes." I was about to ask what was wrong when he relaxed again. "If you remember, I told you a little while ago that many of us have a special ability."

"Right," I said encouragingly.

"Alice can see the future. Her visions are not always accurate, but she does have a very good track record," he explained.

I was starting to feel numb, as if my emotions had gone on the defensive. All that he'd revealed to me in the past couple of hours gave way to enormous inner conflict. I believed it and I didn't want to believe it. It was all too fantastic and unreal, yet I couldn't doubt any of it. I was enormously relieved to simply know the truth, but I was devastated when I considered the implications.

My face must have reflected all this. Edward accurately gauged what I was feeling. "I think we've talked enough for now. I should take you home," he said firmly.

"No," I protested. "I have so many questions!"

He motioned for the waitress to bring us the check and then turned back to me. "We'll talk more. I promise you I'll answer everything I can."

"Why later? Why not now?" I asked. I was very afraid I'd never see him again after this. Maybe he was admitting everything because he planned to leave. He'd mentioned the danger he posed to me. I worried that Edward was convinced it would be best to stay out of my life. If he thought that was true, I at least wanted the chance to convince him otherwise.

"Up to this point you've been dealing with it very well. Now you look tired and stunned, and I don't want to overload your circuits," he said gently.

I knew it was useless to argue. I'd have to take it on faith that we'd talk again and he'd tell me more. Once I got back to my apartment, though, it would be hard to avoid the sense that this had all been a dream.

We walked to the car in silence. I went to open the passenger door when Edward reached quickly in front of me. "Allow me, please," he said. Normally, I get all "I-can-take-care-of-myself-k-thx" when men do that, but I smiled and accepted his thoughtfulness.

As we drove home, I said, "You asked me before what I was thinking. I never answered you. I was struck by how difficult it must be for you to tell me everything. Thank you for doing it."

"Well, you did say you wanted to know the truth. I assumed you meant that, even if the truth is not pleasant," he said gravely.

"Nobody's perfect," I said softly.

Edward laughed, a touch bitterly. "You have a way of making nearly everything humorous."

It was time I reciprocated the honesty. "You're right, I do. Sometimes I joke to try and help people feel at ease. Mostly, though, it helps me process things. Using humor lets me accept anything on my own terms." Judging by his expression, I knew he understood that about me.

"I'll probably need some time because of the...magnitude of it all," I explained. He nodded. "Will you help me with that?" I asked plaintively.

He regarded me quietly. "What would you like me to do?"

"Answer my questions. Don't spare anything. I can't do this if I sense you're not being honest with me."

"That sounds reasonable," he said, nodding again. He didn't exactly agree, though. Then, as an after thought, he asked, "What's the 'this" you're referring to?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "Whatever happens after today, I guess." I turned to him. "What does happen after today?"

Edward was backing the Volvo into my driveway. He parked and turned off the motor.

"What do you want to happen?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm not completely sure of that, either," I said, absolutely lying to him. Thank God he couldn't hear my own truth: that I longed to be with him, despite what I now knew as fact. "But I can tell you what I don't want. I don't want you to ignore me, not out of fear or worry or any baseless decision you make without consulting me first."

He raised his eyebrows. "Anything else?"

"Yes. I don't want you to avoid telling me anything, as I said before. I don't want you to think I can't handle it. I might react a little strangely at first, but give the circumstances, I think that's to be expected. You've been able to stay with me these last hours, and while I can't read your mind, I'd guess that means the temptation to kill me hasn't been strong enough to act on it. I don't want you believing it's impossible," I said.

"I don't want you to feel like I can't understand what you're going through. Okay, I know I can't," I amended when I saw the look on his face, "but I can't help you if you keep it all to yourself because I'm merely human."

He was about to protest before I said, "I'm not finished. I thought of something I do want. I want you to see the things that I've seen. Whatever else you may be, you are truly generous, intelligent, caring, intuitive, and, I'm sure, a host of other great things I haven't even gotten to yet. I want you to know that, and to remember it."

We were silent for a moment. Even in the dark, I could detect the deep astonishment on Edward's face. It was sadly obvious to me that no one had ever said anything like that to him before.

"Can I touch you?" At least I asked first.

I heard him inhale sharply – he had the window open – before he said, "Yes."

I covered his hand in both of mine and said, "One more thing: I don't want you to stay away from me."