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Your heart, I'll carry it with me …

Bella Swan moves to Forks where she meets Edward Cullen. But this is not your typical Bella and this is not the story you know.

Twilight fanfiction; I own nothing.

CHAPTER FOUR

That Tuesday after my failed dance we had trigonometry test. As I looked around the class, I seriously questioned professor's sense. No one seemed particularly interested or knowledgeable. The dance was still the priority in their minds. Dresses, hairstyles, the hot band singer, Tyler's drunk dancing on the tables, the after party – who would even want to think of triangles?!

Although Edward continued to haunt me in my dreams and on school corridors, I didn't find the test to be difficult as everyone was saying. Still, the next day, when we got the results back, I almost fell off my chair when I saw 97% written in the upper left corner of the test.

I don't think I mentioned it already but just before the dance, schedules got mixed up somehow and Edward ended up in my Maths group. Luckily I didn't have to sit anywhere near him but I still noticed professor's gloomy expression when she passed him his test.

My aunt in Arizona was never really supportive of my efforts in school; she tried to convince me that grades were nowhere near as important as I thought. She dropped out of high school in 10th grade, never went to college but, being a talented hairdresser (and marrying an older rich crook, may I add), she opened her hairdressing salon. She was well-heeled, living a better life than many college graduates as she often stated with pride.

I always dismissed her, thinking she was just jealous of my intellectual abilities but when professor turned to me and asked me if I could possibly help Edward with maths, I for the very first time wished I worshipped my aunt and did what she suggested.

Of course I could decline - I don't really know why I didn't. My grade might have caused some humane happy state and make me forget that I actually h.a.t.e.d. Edward Cullen. I found myself nodding before I even thought everything through.

I'm not entirely sure what awoke my senses but it felt like someone splashed a bucket of icy water into my face. Edward Cullen ruined my dance; he made me hate a dress that cost quite a fortune and throw away the perfectly nice shoes; I started detesting Geography, my former favourite subject just because I had to sit next to him; now apparently I was about to waste my precious free time teaching him maths!

If Charles Manson stood in front of me with a knife in his hand, singing Helter Skelter, I wouldn't be as horrified!

The only thing that stopped me from throwing up was praying I was going to get some extra credits for it.

I am that kind of person who prefers to avoid facing with the situations; I much rather get lost in illusions, hoping someone would get Harry's magic wand and make them go away.

I was pleasantly surprised by myself when during lunch I walked straight to Cullens' table to arrange the time of place of the dreaded tutoring.

With every step I made I felt like I was nearing hell; as if the family was living in some other sphere, hostile to anyone who accidently wandered near. If anything, they hated me and Edward studying together as much as I did.

Emmett terrified me. He was just so big and so muscular; only one swing of his hand would probably be enough to send me to central Africa. Jasper looked like a puma, ready to jump at me any second. I instinctively rubbed my neck.

Girls were surprisingly stoic.

I still managed to smile when Edward looked at me.

"So would library after school be ok with you?" I sounded surprisingly normal.

"Sure," he shrugged. He quickly glanced at the pizza in front of him, discreetly telling me I was interrupting. I was going to Forks high for a month already and I never saw him eat.

I nodded, expecting some sort of a thank you but got none. It wasn't Edward's fault of course; today's society is never grateful for anything. We just take it for granted, long live individualism!

I suck at PE on any given day but when I'm upset, it is even worse. This day I was … a disaster. We were playing something with ball and either I missed it or handed it to a member of the opposite team. Of course, there is no PE without getting hit in a head; at least I could leave to the locker room fifteen minutes earlier.

Entire way to the library I hoped he forgot or simply didn't care but – my head started even more when I saw him. It is funny how quickly you can fall from a peak to a complete utter bottom. If there was a small, cute puppy nearby, I would doubtlessly start crying.

"Alright, let's begin!" I faked a smile as I sit down next to him. "What troubles you?"

I really thought his maths failure would make him more bearable. Screw optimism; I should start looking at the glass as half empty.

"As far as maths is concerned or generally speaking?" he grinned.

"Could you please not be a smart ass today?" I sighed. It sounded as if I was pleading.

"Bad day?" he asked and partly closed his eyes. He was staring at my forehead. I guessed I was getting a bump.

"Basketball?" he asked sympathetically.

"Handball," I groaned.

Then he did something I would surely him for if it didn't feel soooooooo goooooood … he leant toward me and his fingers gently, very gently, I could barely feel them, touched the bump. Of course I almost jumped back but it brought such comfort I just let out the deepest sigh.

His fingers were better than any cold compresses. I didn't realize until that moment just how my temperature had risen in PE class. Surely, nerves had something to do with that but PE is crime against humanity so I will continue to blame everything on it.

I was sad when he moved back. When I realized it, I got this sudden urge to hit myself on the bump again and hit and hit till I came back to my senses. I let this guy, of all guys touch me?

I was such a disgrace.

Or not; maybe I had a concussion. I would certainly prefer it.

"So this trigonometry thing … I certainly hope you know how to explain it better than writers of the text book … I am quite good at reading but I don't understand a single thing …"

I should just kill myself right there, on the spot. Instead of thinking of all the reasons why I hated his guts, I laughed at his jokes and I even wasn't terrified at the mistakes he was making – I didn't even wonder how he managed to spend so many years in high school with no knowledge of fractions at all!

Not just that; I even agreed when he offered to walk back to my house with me! Thank god he didn't offer to carry my books; insane as I was I would probably ask him to marry me!

Days were getting shorter and streets were already dark. Not that I was afraid, though. I felt wickedly safe when I was with Edward. He was just so tall, so beautiful; he could melt anyone with his honey-like eyes. I could just picture how a petty thief who would jump in front of us wanting my new wallet would turn into a puddle of sugar. I would go to a war zone with Edward; I would be just as safe as if I was locked in a safety deposit box of city's jewellery store.

He was walking very close to me. I don't know what he was feeling but my body sensors certainly didn't detect the sudden temperature drop comparing to the morning. If someone told me I stood in the middle of Sahara desert, I would believe them.

Our elbows accidently touched. For the first time in my life I wished I wasn't so pale; I had no chance of hiding the embarrassing shade of red that spread across my cheeks.

I almost passed out when he took my hand. I was really close to being the next ER patient with heart problems.

"Look," he said in his poetic, melodic, just … perfect voice. If his voice wasn't enough, he pointed into the air with his … let's just say hand, shall we? "It's snowing!"

Clumsy as I am I should let out a dreaded scream; icy roads and snow fights could not mean anything good for my existence. But since I reached a happy state, comparingly carefree as the one after three joints, I just smiled. It looked so pretty, snow falling down in the light of lamppost, on us.

"It just got colder …" Will I go to hell for lying? Despite living in Phoenix for 17 years, I never experienced this kind of extreme heat.

As if I was under a spell I stared into one of the snowflakes falling from the sky. I wanted to spread my arms, lean backwards and close my eyes, waiting for the kiss of winter to hit me. I most likely would do that, since I did have an excuse – snow wasn't something I was used to. Of course I knew how it looked – god bless whoever invented TV! – but feeling it on your skin was inconceivable.

Edward Cullen's arms embraced me and brought back the heat. Sadly he moved back again before I could fully comprehend. Voila, I opened my eyes and his jacket was on my shoulders. "No, Edward," I shook my head and started taking it off despite its delicious smell, "I can't let you…"

"I'll be fine," he dismissed me and smiled. There was a music coming from a nearby bar. We were standing so close. I remembered the dance we missed. I wanted to ask him if we could make up for the last time. I guess I still was partly sane; I kept my mouth shut.

I blinked as his hands slid into his pockets. The poor guy was freezing while I was on fire. Selfish me didn't want to give back the source of that delightful smell.

Producers of our love story were throwing more and more snow on us. Someone used superglue on me. I was like Eskimos and alcohol – my desire was the culprit and I lost my senses. I could have easily frozen, still believing I was in the Caribbean.

"We reached your house," he whispered, stopped and smiled. There was really my house in front of us. Just house. My heart had just found another home.

It was too good to be true, the snow, he. It must have been a nightmare. Just that for a change I was going to live. I would wake up screaming, upset it was not real. I would grab for pills, swallow the whole bottle, hoping I would go back, change the ending so that he would not start walking away.

His hand took off and landed on my cheek – it was such a perfect landing, please, everyone stand out and congratulate the Captain! I could barely feel him, the seeker who looked for gold on my left cheek. I always knew it was my best profile.

But apparently he didn't find the desired gold. Once again his eyes had a rendezvous with mine – they weren't black as I remembered them from the day we met; they were almost golden, like honey. There was no smile or, god forbid, a goodbye kiss. He simply walked away. His steps looked heavy, I don't know, it was probably the cold. Or was it that he too did not want us to separate ever again?

As he was disappearing in snow, there was just one thing I was sure of.

I was in a big, big trouble.

To Be Continued.

Broughttoyouby:::winter.