Have you ever preformed an ancient ritual?
Ancient is a subjective term in my case, but that doesn't bear on this conversation. Ancient Rituals are actually more common than you might think, sure a lot of them have crumbled to dust along with their cultures, but some of them still remain in spirit, even if they would be unrecognizable to the people who created them.
Religion of any kind is a great place to find ritual, the Christian practice of communion was carried out with the same intent in Jesus's time as it is two thousand years later. Of course the apostles didn't deal out Welches's grape juice and they wouldn't have used Wonder bread. But rituals have to change to meet the times and resources available, that is how a good ritual keeps going.
And if Religion isn't your thing, well some aspects of ancient culture are still practiced by mainstream society today. I'm a fan of the modern Halloween. Who doesn't love dressing in costume and getting free candy, but the practice of annually giving food to wandering spirits existed in Ireland and Ancient Egypt.
We just have to adapt.
Which is why I stole the keys to Mr. Winter's truck.
The Winters didn't seem to mind when I came home at lunchtime, essentially ditching my first day of school. Mrs. Winters was more functioning in the morning, but by the afternoon her strength had failed her and she was dozing on the couch with the television on. Her eyes opened blurrily when I walked into the room.
I gazed at the TV dinner she'd managed to warm up for herself before slumping into a chair. The food wasn't even touched. Not that I could blame her, the small meat patty looked overcooked and the kernels of corn where swimming in a thick syrup.
"I'll make some soup," I told her.
She must have known the time, because Price is Right was still on, but she just nodded and didn't ask why I was home from school.
Soup is something easy to make, and if you aren't picky you can make it with practically whatever is in a house. Some canned tomatoes, chop some carrots and celery, toss in potatoes and beans with whatever meat is handy, and as long as you let it simmer the result is usually edible and you can make it without having to think about what you're doing.
I used this time to make a mental list of things I would need to do if I wanted to remain in Forks.
Like I said, fighting vampires is sort of like fighting a bulldozer. Running right at the thing is a good way to die. But every heavy machine has its cracks, just like every suit of armor has its flaws, and if you have to the time to study it long enough, you can find some methods to weaken it, or better yet to stay out of it's way.
Mr. Winters stood in the doorway.
"Whatcha making," he asked, his body leaning inward as he sniffed the air. He must have been living on TV dinners for awhile if my hodgepodge soup looked appetizing to him.
"Some soup. I'll need to go shopping tomorrow," I told him as I turn back to the onion I was chopping.
"I'll drive you," he said.
It was the same response this morning when I needed to get to school. The Winters owned one truck, an old massive amount of metal, but it's actually constructed of two different trucks, some older and some new. Mr. Winters doesn't talk much but he grunted something to that effect when we drove to school this morning. I take it that he did all the work himself and is pretty proud of it, or must be to mention it at all.
"Should be ready early," I told him as he headed back to his shed.
I went back to staring at the simmering pot.
One thing to do first and I can't go back to school until it's done. I frowned at the soup. If Marius was here he might have smiled in an 'I told you so' manner. And he's probably right. But I think I take a perverse sort of pleasure in not listening to him sometimes.
I crossed back into the living room, Mrs. Winters was sleeping deeper now. The TV was turned off and she didn't stir even when I reached the door and removed Mr. Winters's keys from a hook next to the frame.
The house doesn't have a garage and the old truck was parked in the driveway. The dogs in the fence barked at me as I neared the vehicle and I wished they'd be silent. But Mr. Winters cursed something from inside the shed, not bothering to look away from whatever he was working on, and I got inside the cab without any interruption.
I put the key in the ignition, and turned it until the battery clicked on. The lights on the dash illuminated, the clock told me it was 12:56 and I should still be in school, and the radio started playing some country song about a prison guard dog named Ol' Red. I didn't bother turning the key enough to start the ignition. I only need the battery power, least I should with an old car like this.
Settled in the middle of the dash is a nondescript little knob and I pushed it in. A red light blinked into existence and I leaned back into the upholstery to wait for it to turn off. I had assumed it would be here, Mrs. Winters and her cancer sticks.
A storm was settling over Forks and small splatters of moisture broke onto the windshield. But it always rains here, I should get used to it. I didn't bother to change the radio station and the song changed to one about lost love. It's the sort of song that people listen to when their hearts have been broken. But the emotional cadence of the singer's voice is wasted on me.
I don't believe in love.
My old family, the twelve, the people who 'know me best' would find that statement funny. Not that I could tell them the truth. Firstly they'd never believe it, and then if they did... I think it might ruin us for good. We're a broken bunch, but we're all we have. We depend on the story of who we are, of why we suffer to ground us. Because as the years pass and things fall away, we need each other to remain sane. So I can't tell them that my part in the 'oldest of love stories' is false.
I saw Romeo and Juliet once. Not in Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, I was in South America during the Elizabethan period, but I saw it in London during the 1700s. It was still pretty popular then, and the audience seemed moved by the actors and the words and they walked away as if they had seen real love up on that stage.
But it's a play, a clever lie. Juliet, she's just an actor who says the lines and copies the motions.
That isn't love.
Still, I'll admit it's hard not to get caught up in the story. And I sometimes wonder how the tale would have gone if Juliet had been indifferent to both Paris and Romeo, if she'd merely been caught up in their romantic struggles without feeling anything for either. How would it have been if Juliet didn't believe in love, if she liked them both equally but loved neither.
I suppose it wouldn't have been much of a play.
What would be the fun of watching Romeo and Paris tear apart the world over a girl who didn't believe in love. So Juliet had to love one of them, had to choose one of them, had to be willing to die and bare the curse of her choice.
"I'll look to like, if looking liking move," I said softly over the gentle beating of the falling rain.
The song had changed to something peppy and all-American, and the little red light had turned off to let me know it was ready.
It was an old cigarette lighter, probably used heavily back when Mrs. Winters was smoking three packs a day. A red coil inside the small tube became heated by the battery until it was searing hot. Looking inside I could see it hot like a red coal.
Rituals have to change. Back when Marius I first discovered this, cars hadn't been invented, let alone car cigarette lighters.
I hesitated. Was it sad that I wanted Marius here to goad me on, even though I was so desperate to escape him? I wanted his demanding stare and his firm certainty.
I let of a breath and pressed the hot metal to my inside wrist, muttering an old Egyptian word as I forced the small circle deeper into the skin, trying to remain numb as the hot air built up and seared my flesh. It wasn't as hot as a brand, but when you're in a rush this can leave a perfect circle formation.
My eyes watered.
I pulled the lighter away and examined my arm, a red circle had formed and looked angry. The edges, where the metal had touched, was a deeper red.
I plugged the lighter in again and waited. The Delevi Ring took time to make, slow painful time. But it was well worth the pain considering how it could dampen the effects of Vampire gifts.
The song on the radio was sad again. I'm not a fan of country music, it has stories and ideas that remind me of the old folk songs that people used to sing while working. Marius likes it, he calls it working man's music and he likes to think of himself as a man that is good with his hands. He is too. He also likes Rock n' Roll, the classics from the seventies.
I stared out the window for awhile before noticing the light had turned off again, and I pressed the metal to my wrist without hesitation.
This is going to be a very long afternoon, in a life that has been too long already.
I was afraid to go to school. I don't mean afraid in the sense that I didn't do my homework, or afraid in the sense that I have to see my ex-lover after a nasty break-up, or even afraid that I might get the crap beat out of me by the local dealer I pissed off. I was afraid in the mortal peril sort of way.
When I got out of Mr. Winters's car I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever see the old man again. We'd hardly bonded over the few words we'd spoken to each other the previous night...but somehow the idea of never seeing him again seemed to make my stomach churn unhappily.
Mr. Winters drove away without saying goodbye.
I'm not in the position to fear death. Dying isn't the issue here. And at least being attacked by a vampire is usually a quick way to snuff it. But it's a gamble I'm taking by staying in Forks. I could lose everything, this chance I have at a normal life is so fragile and fleeting. And second chances don't come around as often as people like to think.
As I stepped toward the school my mouth felt dry and my knees were weak, certain signs of panic. I looked horrible, I was sure, probably something like rabbit when it's facing a hawk. I rubbed at the circular markings on my wrist, the brief flare of pain was some reassurance. I'm not completely helpless, but my painful preparations yesterday seem weak in comparison to the foes I'm facing. The Delevi Ring can only do so much.
"Hey Bella!"
I prepared to duck and cover, but quelled the urge. This isn't a war, not exactly anyway, and likely my paranoia might be mistaken for insanity. And I did want to fit in here.
Still, I couldn't help but wonder who took the time to learn my name considering I'd gone to three classes yesterday and spent most of my time dozing through lectures.
No one came to mind.
A blond boy dashed over, leaving his friends who were gathered around a blue van. I vaguely recalled he was in my history class but his name was a complete blank.
"Hi," I said swiftly as he approached. I tried to attach a smile to the greeting but it must have come off poorly because he looked a little amused.
"I'm Mike, you remember me from History?"
I nodded, "Of course, so, morning."
"Think we covered the greeting thing," he said. He looked past me at the parking lot, "So you don't drive." He raised a shoulder toward Mr. Winter's old truck that was stuck in the line-up.
"Don't have a car," I said, shrugging lightheartedly. I pulled my bag closer to me, trying to strengthen my resolve as I walked toward class.
Mike followed along beside me, even though it seemed he was leaving all his things with his friends.
"So, is that your dad then?" He questioned. Maybe he didn't recognize the Winters, they are the sort that mostly kept to themselves.
He seemed honestly interested, which surprised me. Generally people aren't unselfishly curious in another person. But then I suppose I should have expected this. I was arriving in the middle of the semester, appearing from nowhere in a town where everyone knows everyone.
"No," I said with a shrug, "He's just, you know, new foster-dad..."
Mike looked blank before he figured out what I'd meant, "Ohhh," he brought his hand to the back of his neck and scratched at a lock of stubborn hair.
"It's no big deal," I said quickly, "It's just till I'm eighteen." I wondered if I was saying this for him or me. I looked around cautiously. No sign of the vampires, they seemed to avoid their fellow students.
Just a little longer, I promised the rational part of myself that still ached to run, maybe a whole year if I was lucky and Mrs. Winters lasted that long.
I was never lucky.
I glanced at Mike, he seemed relieved by my brisk dismissal. "Well, I have a car," he said, "I could give you a ride, you know, in case you decide to skip again."
I felt guilty, and my expression must have shown it. "People notice?" I asked, and cringed when Mike laughed in genuine humor. I hadn't intended to be funny but I smiled and nodded as if his laughter was my intention.
"Hard not to," he said, jostling my shoulder. We seemed close, and I'm not certain why. Maybe it was because Mike was one of those people that you can like easily, all friendly with no sore spots to poke. He seemed so different from my family or even the other wards of the state I've been spending time with.
I must have been smiling because Mike was too.
"Yeah," a new voice entered the little moment we'd been sharing, "I mean, you sort of made a beeline out. Stephanie Mitchell is going to be all over you joining the track team." I turned and spotted another somewhat familiar face, History class seemed to be the place to meet people. Although, with some chagrin, I realized I couldn't remember her name either.
She moved next to Mike and tossed a tan satchel in his direction. "Forget much?" she demanded playfully, handing him a coat as well.
"Yeah, thanks Jess," Mike said, nodding his head.
"No problem," she said with a smile. She liked him, it was obvious. She turned to me, "So what did you see the devil or something."
Not far off, I thought.
"No. It's just…did you ever just need to bolt?" I asked them, I ran a hand through my hair. "History was pretty boring."
They nodded in agreement, although they had to have been well aware of the transparency of my excuse. They must have been. Still, they seemed content to let the matter slide, they didn't know me well enough. Perhaps they thought I was some sort of delinquent. I lowered my eyelids and rolled my eyes, it's hardly an astute observation. I didn't exactly exude a 'bad girl' image, what with my simple t-shirt, navy cardigan and conservative jeans. Still, whatever they thought it didn't seem to bother them, and considering I might very well be facing my death today, it was sort of nice to know I could count on having someone to sit next to at lunch.
Well hell, I thought, despite it all I was just a teenage girl.
It didn't take me long to determine that my reputation as Forks High's newest troublemaker was very well established. Hard to believe that ditching one afternoon could have so much effect. I supposed it hadn't helped that it had been my first day. But my new image was beginning to fit uncomfortable by second period. Skipping classes had to be the most venial of sins, yet I'd still wound up new and dangerous. Something that my fellow students really seemed to enjoy.
My teachers, on the other hand, looked less than enthused. My previous kind anonymity had dissolved into a more carefully observed status. And History, in particular, seemed somewhat brutal, as the teacher tried to make certain we were paying attention by employing the Socratic Method, on me in particular. Still, I had to hand it to the man, his gaze was more thoughtful and even speculative when I left class having answered all his questions correctly.
I walked to the cafeteria, hiding my dread with what I hoped was a serene expression. It was easy to appear calm walking with Jessica. I had learned that she loved to talk and I easily fell into the habit of listening to her. The topics were hardly interesting, but despite that, she had a soothing consistency to her voice. I nodded politely and inquired when needed, which gave me enough of a distraction to keep from collapsing into a puddle of dread.
"But Mr. Marsh was totally harsh," Jessica said raising the subject of history. "It's only your second day, he didn't need to single you out."
She didn't mention that I had miraculously gotten the answers right.
"We just finished studying the Civil War at my old school," I supplied in an effort to relieve her mind.
"Oh, well that was lucky, huh?" she stated seeming comforted.
We passed the threshold to the cafeteria and I had to order myself to breathe. I avoided looking at the table they had been seated at yesterday; I was almost too worried that my gaze would give me away. I took food from the lunch line almost mechanically and ended up at the register with a piece of spinach vegetarian lasagna.
"Come on," Jessica said, tugging me away from the line. "We always sit over here."
Mike and few of his male friends were already seated in the middle of the lunch room, and he gave Jessica and me a wave as we approached. I assumed the wave was intended for me, but Jessica was noticeably cheered by the gesture.
I settled down and was given a barrage of names to learn, something I've always been bad at. Still I smiled and nodded and tried my best to remember them. It was a fruitless campaign because we were only halfway through lunch when I'd already mixed up the names of the two girls and boys.
"So Bells," Mike said, obviously feeling familiar enough to shorten my name, "What class you have next?"
"Biology," I said.
"Me too," Mike announced looking pleased for a moment.
"Too bad lab partners have already been decided," one of the girls said, her voice sounding a little sharp.
Mike seemed to glower in this disappointment for a moment.
Now, snuggled among these students, my gaze nervously drifted toward where I knew the vampires were seated. Now that I knew they were in Forks my body seemed to sense them even though I didn't want it to.
Jessica must have caught my glance.
"Those are the Cullens," she whispered.
I jerked back to look at my lasagna, "Who are?"
"Over at that table, gorgeous eh?" she nudged me and took a sip of her drink. "Of course don't even bother. They're all 'together'." She said together with an emphasis and smirked when one of the other girls tutted in the back of her throat.
"They keep to themselves, but they are nice enough," the taller girl mentioned. I sort of wished I could remember her name, she seemed kind.
"Yeah," Jessica seemed to think this an overzealous compliment, "It's just strange. I mean they live together and they are 'together'."
"They aren't blood related," the kinder girl clarified for my benefit.
My eyes couldn't help drifting in their direction now. The Cullens were surprisingly normal looking for vampires. Not that it would take me more than a moment to spot the obviousness, but they seemed to be trying their best to play human. Their clothes were new and modern in style, they'd piled food onto their trays and were even going through the charade of dismembering their meal to make it look as if they had eaten it.
"There is Edward, Alice and Emmett, they're the Dr. Cullen's foster kids." I raised an eyebrow at that rather obvious lie, "And then the Hales, the two blondes, they are Mrs. Cullen's niece and nephew...or something like that. Still it's just sort of strange, don't you think? Dr. And Mrs. Cullen are so young too."
The other girls nodded their agreement, whether they agreed or not, but I continued to stare at my plate. I wanted to look one of them in the eye and try to decide if they were wearing contacts, they must be to hide the burgundy blaze that all vampire's possessed...but I had sworn to not attract their attention and that was a promise I was going to keep.
"So," I said pulling the conversation away from the vampires, "Do we have to take gym here? I was hoping to get out of it."
"Yeah, it's sort of lame," Jessica said. "And they don't even offer, like, fitness training. My cousin in Port Angles says they offer Palates or Yoga instead, which would be awesome, right, right?"
They all nodded.
I silently mourned, I'd been hoping to escape that class, and gladly would have settled for any other. My lack of coordination and general clumsiness made me a hazard even under the best situations. Marius, more often than not, tried to keep me away from anything that required physical dexterity. By now, he and the other members of my family were forces to be reckoned with in a fight...I was still considered a liability, despite being fierce when the situation warranted it.
Least I thought so.
When lunch was over, Mike escorted me to Biology. I hated to admit it, but I appreciated the guide, Forks High was divided into several different buildings and they had been numbered by when they were built as opposed to having a linear order...thus, building two was located between buildings three and five. Building four was located across campus near building one.
Mike joked and tried to be amusing as we entered the biology classroom and I did my best to smile at the appropriate moments. He was talking about some comedy television show that I probably should be familiar with, but wasn't. Television has never really grabbed my interest.
"And then he says, 'but it's in my other pants!' Priceless."
"Ha he he," I laughed awkwardly, but Mike didn't seem to mind.
"Ah, Miss Swan," the teacher said, peering over at me as I entered. "Good of you to join us, today."
Swan. I sighed, slightly annoyed by Marius's attempt at humor this time around. I'm as swanlike as a hippopotamus.
"Um yeah, sorry about..." I stuttered unhappily as there wasn't a plausible excuse I could offer for ditching this man's class.
"We have one open seat Miss Swan, the both of you hurry and sit down, you know I like to keep a punctual start time Mr. Newton."
"Sorry Mr. Banner," Mike apologized, looking almost contrite.
I gave Mike a nod before looking for the only other open seat.
The- I swallowed almost convulsively. The only other seat available was right next to a vampire. It made sense, I suppose, that the others had isolated him, subconsciously they must have sensed he was a predator.
The small row between the desks seemed impossibly long as I marched to my seat. I've had shorter funeral walks, this was mind numbingly impossible. I wanted to turn and run, I wanted to get out of Forks. Screw whatever noble ambition I'd had of staying under their radar and living out my time here.
I took a seat and managed to release a breath, doing my best to force my lips into a smile so that I could at least feign a friendly greeting. When I thought I had my expression under control, I tilted my head and turned to face him.
What was his name? Jessica had said them...I'd been too busy trying to avoid the topic to pay much heed. Still, his name shot to the forefront of my mind as soon as my eyes met his face.
Edward.
Handsome, beautiful even. A face like the kind sculptured by Michelangelo, copper colored locks hanging just past his ears, broad shoulders...and even from here the vague scent of him was wreaking havoc on my system. Pleasure, fear, horror. It was too many bad memories to count.
But his eyes terrified me and my greeting died on my tongue. For that beautiful face was twisted into something like revulsion and his eyes were a dizzying black
Black, the color of hunger, death...how many times had I stared down such eyes before the life was drained out of me. I wondered if the horrors of my past were being broadcast from my brown eyes, and I hurriedly turned my chin and faced forward.
I placed a hand on edge of the table to steady myself, a deep breath to try and dislodge the despair that had settled into my chest. I tightened the pressure on my jaw to try and keep it from trembling. But my eyes were outside my control and the tears that developed grew in number no matter how fiercely my inner mind told me not to. Something that might be called a tear slipped from my lids but I wiped it away before it even landed on my cheek, forcing the gesture to appear like an innocent itch.
I just hoped he could control himself until we left this room of children. My life was forfeit, but my life didn't matter. I'd gambled and I'd lost, but the real victims would be the innocents in this classroom. Vampires in a bloodlust would destroy anything and everything in their path.
I really should have left Forks.
The minutes began to drag, each one counted in a way they hadn't before. And as the clock continued to tick and my heart continued to beat, I felt— perplexed.
Once again my eyes drifted toward my companion. His own hands were locked onto the table, and small slivers of wood had been broken off by the grip of his hand. He was very still, not even feigning breath and his furious expression now seemed directed at the table.
My confusion grew, of all the vampires in my life I'd never seen one who was capable of keeping their bloodlust under control. It's more than thirst I've been told, it's like a physical burn. And when the blood is to one's liking, denying it is like resisting a force of nature. Inevitable. I've been told it's impossible to resist, even with the best intentions.
Maybe he was just waiting until we were alone.
Still my eyes lingered on his hands, I didn't think I could meet his gaze again, they clutched at the table and his knuckles were white.
The bell rang suddenly and I was jerked out a reverie I hadn't realized I'd fallen in. The Cullen boy was out of his seat and through the door before I could release a sigh of relief. The class had both dragged and flew by, and I had no knowledge whatever of the topic discussed. I gave a cursory glance at the chalk board, something about cell mitosis.
"Boring, bet you want to ditch now," Mike's curious voice intruded.
Looking up I realized everyone else was moving on to their next class, utterly unaware of how close to death they had come, but I felt like I'd been frozen to my seat. I tried to pull myself away and fiddled with collecting my books while Mike hovered over me.
"So what did you say to Cullen," he asked curiously, a bit of anxiety in his voice. "He looked like you'd stabbed him with a pencil."
"I didn't say anything to him," I said coldly. "He's…" I trailed off helplessly my mind flinging through options, "But no matter what Jess says about him, he's not my type." It was a weak excuse, but the only one that I could think of.
Mike's lips flickered into a brief smile before he wiped the expression away. "Oh, yeah, really? Like what about him?"
I shrugged and rose to my feet, Mike wouldn't understand. "It's just a feeling," I said evasively.
Mike still looked confused but he walked me out the door with a thoughtful expression.
No, I didn't like Edward Cullen's type at all.
I was in the last class of the day when an aide from the office appeared. It seemed that my little excursion the previous day had earned me a trip to the counselor's office. Perhaps my distracted attitude the rest of the day hadn't helped matters, my English teacher, Mr. Mason, had to call me twice just to tell me I'd been sent to the office. Everyone seemed a little annoyed with me really, but I couldn't help it, I was slightly preoccupied waiting for a bloodthirsty vampire to drop down and consume me whole.
Finding the office was an exercise in futility, distraction made me clumsier that usual and I was nursing a scraped elbow (no blood thankfully) by the time I made it there.
When I found the building I stood awkwardly by the door until a woman with dyed red hair and a perm noticed me. She raised a pencil-thin eyebrow and I scurried toward her desk to hand over the pass I'd been given.
"Mr. Homer's office is right through there," she said, pointing down a narrow hallway to my left.
"Thanks," I nodded, frowning as I found my way.
I don't like counselors or therapists. They are sort of a new invention for the modern atheist age. Before people used to go to priests, or maybe just prayed to whatever they believed in. But people today don't seem to believe in much, so they find their gods in science. Perhaps that's the same really.
But I don't like therapists because they find pleasure in picking at old wounds. And I'm trying my best to let things scab over.
"Mr. Homer," I asked peeking inside the room.
"Ah, Miss. Swan, come in please."
Mr. Homer was an older man with a bald head, he had worn-looking sweater vest over his rather large stomach. The desk he sat at was old and a green desk lamp brightened the dark little office.
"Take a seat," he said, indicating the small chair that was practically surrounded by file folders. He was looking through a similar folder as I sat, holding my knees together tightly and trying my best to not seem anxious.
"It's alright," he said, offering me a smile, "I just want to see how things are going."
I guess my calm exterior wasn't so convincing.
"It's fine," I said trying to feel as if I meant it.
"I understand you left early yesterday," he prompted. Mr. Homer had rather bulbous eyes and I almost preferred it when he was perusing what must be my file, facing him was uncomfortable.
"Yeah, I had something I had to do at home."
Mr. Homer peered up at me, his expression kindly. "I understand you're living with the Winters family, how is that working out."
"Good," I answered.
"We do have a strict attendance policy," Mr. Homer said, his expression becoming a little more sharp. "If there is something for you to do at home, make certain the Winters provide you with a note."
"Alright." I folded my hands in my lap and stared at my fingernails with more concentration than is required.
"Good, well, that will be all, if you have any trouble you can come and see me."
"That's all?" I looked up, feeling very relieved.
Mr. Homer looked amused, "That's all, it's only your second day. You can't have gotten into that much trouble yet."
You'd be surprised, I thought to myself as I collected my bag. "Thanks," I said with a nod, happy to have escaped. The bell rang when I rose to my feet and as I left Mr. Homer's office I couldn't help but feel in a great mood. I'd managed to survive this day intact, and considering the danger presented in Biology, that was a real accomplishment.
"Surely there must be some other class I could take," a pleasing voice said forcefully.
I stopped dead as my eyes landed on the source.
Edward Cullen was leaning toward the red headed secretary, his expression deceptively friendly, his smile perhaps a tad too wide.
"Is there some problem with Biology," the secretary responded, her words sounding slightly breathless as she fell under the vampire's enticing physical form.
"No," Edward ground out, the annoyance seeping into his voice, "I'd simply like to take a different class, any class..." His voice trailed off as his head whipped in my direction. His genial expression meant for the secretary fading into one of disgust.
Irrationally, I responded back with my own glare. He was hardly the one to be angry at me, I was the victim here, or potential victim anyway. I was the one worried about being murdered, his ire struck me as suddenly very undeserved and my good mood crackled under the fury of my temper.
"By all means," I said as quietly as I could, "Find Mr. Cullen another class."
I strode out of the room, ignoring the pained expression on the vampire's face as I passed him and a breeze of air blew my scent in his direction. I was so mad I didn't even pause to think about how dangerous this was. I arrived at my locker with my temper flaring, my fingers mixed up the combination and I banged it with my fist when it wouldn't open. Harder than I'd intended actually, the pain flared.
Great.
"Hey," a voice intruded. It was different than before, silky. Seductive perhaps, the voice of a hunter pursing prey.
"I don't want to talk to you," I said, staring angrily at my locker. There was no mistaking the melodic quality to the voice. Edward Cullen was leaning over me, his elbow poised on my neighbor's locker as he examined me.
I took a breath and slowly put in my combination, paying close attention to the digits and trying to make my hands not tremble. The locker opened this time and I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Look, it's nothing...where are you going?" he asked as I threw my books into my bag and hurried away from him, slamming the locker door behind me.
"I have to catch the bus," I said trying to escape.
But it was impossible, I knew their speed and strength. He was right beside me as I pulled my way through the crowd of people that were heading to their cars. Being me, I managed to trip over someone's tuba case and began falling headfirst into the pavement before a cold hand grabbed my shoulder.
"Don't touch me," I said flinching away and dropping to the ground on my knee.
"Why the rush," he said smoothly.
I looked up, his eyes were black as night and I fought to breathe. Hungry and penetrating, he seemed fascinated by me and his attention sent shivers down my spine.
"I have to catch the bus," I mumbled trying to pull myself away from his eyes.
"I could give you a ride home," he said quickly, his expression not shifting from the smooth composure.
But then a change came over him, he seemed to shake himself and the hard glare from class returned. He hated me again. The offer stood between us but he seemed like a man recovering from temporary insanity.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I said, lifting my bag from the ground and walking away.
"Yeah, probably not," he agreed darkly.
"Edward," a small girl, the vampire with short brown hair I'd seen eating with him, she looked curiously at the pair of us. Her eyes drifting away and staring ahead blankly.
"Bye," I muttered, passing the vampire girl and hurrying away.
I got to my bus and found a seat towards the back, clutching my backpack close to my chest and struggling to breathe. But despite this, my eyes seemed drawn to Edward Cullen. Maybe my terror made me watch him, but I didn't think that was it. My brown eyes seemed oddly focused on the vampire as he was quickly joined by the other members of his family and they piled into a silver car. They seemed to be talking angrily, as they sped away from the lot, but I thought I glimpsed Edward's gaze in my direction as they drove away.
Perhaps I interested him as much as he interested me. Because, despite the improbability, I'd managed to escape alive.
How I managed to go to school the next day was anyone's guess. Why was perhaps an even bigger question. Let's call it stupidity, or perhaps some sort of latent suicidal tendency. Either way, Mr. Winters once again dropped me off at the school doors and once again I entered wondering if this was going to be my last day in Forks.
I needn't have bothered. My list of potential murders was decreased by one as my lab partner seemed to have vanished. I'll admit to spending the subsequent days wondering if he was simply devoting his time to planning the perfect murder, but as a week passed and I continued to breathe, this became less and less likely.
Still, it was strange how often I caught myself thinking of him. Not in the paranoid, I wonder if he's coming to kill me manner, but more detached and even curious.
Curiosity killed the cat right?
I tried to remember this truth as I kept my nose down and did my best to blend in with my new friends. I was acing history, to my surprise Mike was hedging toward asking me on a date (which wasn't a welcome event) and I had even managed to avoid injuring myself, accidentally or otherwise. Edward's family's probing stares, directed at me occasionally, were the only reminder that things weren't as normal as they appeared.
Of course this all came to an end when the vampire occupying my thoughts suddenly decided to appear again, interrupting a perfectly good lunch.
"Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jessica whispered in my ear. She seemed oddly excited by this.
"So," I demanded, knowing that the vampire's sensitive hearing would make our words plainly audible to the bunch seated several tables away.
"He never pays attention to any girls, jeez," Jessica replied, her tone a little catty.
I suppose I had been rude, "I don't know why" I said grumpily.
Jessica shook her head, "You are so weird, any other girl would be over-the-moon happy."
"Bella doesn't like his type," Mike butted in, sounding a little happy about the direction of this conversation.
"What type? Amazingly good-looking, smart and totally rich," Jessica raised the fingers on her palm as she ticked off Edward's more appealing qualities.
How about the drinking blood aspect? That was one trait I'd love to ask about; I doubted even Jessica would be able to overlook that little flaw.
I struggled to find the teenage slang to express a good excuse, "He thinks he's God's gift," I stated, pulling from a movie that the other girls and I had seen over the weekend.
"Tell me about it," Jessica agreed, "Like, no one is good enough for him," she nodded, obviously deciding that defaming was more interesting than defending.
I nodded, setting my face into an expression of agreement.
My brown eyes glanced upward, meeting Edward Cullen's petulant expression. That's what overhearing gets you, I thought.
His challenging stare was the only confirmation I needed to know that Biology class is going to be interesting.
It must have been my continued existence that left me so brazen. I should have been terrified, it would only take one wrong move to have him snap and kill, and not only me but other innocent people. I should have left town, I should have been grateful I'd survived this long.