I do not own Twilight or any of its' characters

EPOV

Chapter 28

Still not human enough to blend in

"Everyone take your seats please."

This wasn't good. Professor Ramsey usually wasn't even seen by the students until you reached the second semester of your junior year in culinary. He was the director of the program after all. Now, here he was in a freshman classroom, solemnly telling us to take our seats. I already knew what he was going to say, I could hear his mind very clearly, his only hesitation at this point was trying to put the news to all of us carefully. Chef Fletcher was dead. He died at home, heart attack; we were going to have someone else as our Culinary Methods teacher for the remainder of the semester.

"For those of you who don't know me, I'm Chef Ramsey, program director of the Culinary Arts program at the university." His voice was tinny and curt and he tucked his arms behind his back authoritatively as he made the announcement. "I regret to inform you, but Chef Fletcher is no longer going to be your Culinary Methods teacher. He had a massive heart attack in his home over the weekend, unfortunately, the paramedics could not get to him in time, and he passed away." His terse voice echoed throughout the classroom as he said the words, 'passed away' as if that made the blow he just dealt us gentler.

Someone who dies of a heart attack simply does not just 'pass away' I thought bitterly to myself. It's more of a painful, violent death, not just simply slipping into a coma and shutting their eyes and 'heading toward the light'.

"We will all miss him terribly here at the university. He was a good man." He paused for a moment, and then continued in his firm curt tone. "Regardless, his assistant, Chef Scott will be taking over the class from herein. I will be overseeing his lesson plan and checking in from time to time, but you are Chef Scott's students now. Chef?"

I watched as Chef Scott made his way to the front of the classroom, a tall, clean shaven man with dark eyes and a shaved head, square jawed and with strong build, he shook Chef Ramsey's hand and faced us. I could hear the little speech he had prepared swirling around in his mind as he brought his inner monologue to the fore front. "Thank you Chef Ramsey." He said looking over at the stoic professor. He faced us again and tried to begin. "Chef Fletcher was a great man, he taught me everything I know, and I will try to pass that on to all of you the best I can. I've met most of you already during the fall semester and think I have a decent rapport with the majority of you, so although this tragedy was unexpected, it is my hope to make it a smooth transition. Certainly if you have any questions or concerns, if you don't think I'm doing something right, please bring that to my attention or Chef Ramsey's and we will rectify it immediately. You guys are a great class, and I'm looking forward to working with all of you, these next few months. Hopefully if I do a good enough job, we'll see more of each other in the upcoming years."

Chef Scott had always seemed like a reasonable, hard working, honest man to me, but there was something very weasely about the speech he had just given. It seemed as if he viewed this turn of events as an advancement opportunity, rather than the tragic end of a human life. I scanned his thoughts to see if I could get anything from Chef Scott to affirm my suspicions, but I found nothing. It was better that way I supposed, but there was still something about him that did not sit right with me.

We observed a moment of silence in honor of Chef Fletcher and then Ramsey left and Scott started with his lesson plan. I grudgingly opened up my binder and scowled at him, something wasn't right. Something had changed or was about to. I should have kept my scowl to myself, because he caught me in the act and returned the favor with a similar look of disdain. This day was off to a great start, I thought sarcastically.

We were twenty minutes or so into lecture when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pressed the button on the side to silence it and when no one was looking, flipped it open. 1 new text message from Bella, the screen read. I hit ok, and her message popped up, Lunch? My heart sank when I remembered that today was my double class, one hour of lecture followed by one hour of practical in my culinary class. I would be missing lunch altogether today. I quickly typed back to her, can't love, double duty today. Within a moment, my phone buzzed again with her response, that's ok, c u 2night.

This sucks; I thought to myself, I had really wanted to meet her for lunch. My human mood swings were out of control today, I had hoped by now things would have leveled out a bit, but today I was miserable for no particular reason and felt like I needed to see her. I would just have to wait, and endure this nimrod's lecture for forty five more minutes, then I would be in a kitchen and on my own for the most part. I took heart in that, and then my stomach growled. This was going to be an excruciating day.

I'm sorry I typed back to her. I hoped she wasn't angry with me, but why would she be? Ten minutes or so passed and I got no response, I figured our conversation had ended. Then my phone buzzed again, it was her, I hit ok and read her message, what are u wearing? I chuckled softly to myself and replied with my usual response to that question, Use your imagination…The phone buzzed again with some kind of filthy response from Bella, it caught me by such surprise that I actually muttered something out loud, grinning to myself. The classroom got suddenly very quiet and I looked up to see Chef Scott glaring at me. I slowly snapped my phone shut and cleared my throat sinking down in my seat slightly, the smirk that she had put on my face still there.

Lecture ended and we were given fifteen minutes to get to the other side of the building to the kitchen and get out all of our supplies and put on our Chef jackets. This usually took me no time at all before, but now I needed the fifteen minutes. I gathered up my things, grabbed my coat and headed out with the other students.

"Mr. Cullen." Scott called after me just as I was getting to the door.

I stopped in my tracks, turning on my heel and faced him. "Sir?" I answered in my most congenial tone.

"Edward, isn't it?"

"Yes Chef."

"Come talk with me for a minute." Oh this was not the day for this, I thought to myself. I smiled politely, gritting my teeth and walked toward him. "I want to get to know all of the students better. Some of them I already know very well, because they've required more help in the kitchen. But you," he said rubbing his chin and shaking a finger at me, "I don't think I've ever worked with you. You're very independent." He was making me very uneasy.

"Thank you Chef," I said quietly.

"That's a sign of a great chef, independence, it can also be the sign of an arrogant one," he said casually. I felt my face get hot at his insolence, was he waging an attack on me? "But," he added, "I don't think that's what is in your case. I think you're just a very advanced student."

"That may be," I started, "but arrogance may play a little part in it as well." I smiled darkly.

Chef Scott let out a full, hearty laugh, "I think I like you, Cullen," he slapped me roughly on the shoulder and I wanted to choke him.

"Edward." I corrected him.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I think I remember you now, didn't you leave a couple weeks early for break last semester?"

"Yes, after I took my exams." I pointed out.

"Right, right, now why did you leave? You were having surgery or something?" Now he was asking too much.

"My sister was."

"Right, right, I'm assuming everything went well, otherwise you wouldn't be here. Didn't you have to be a donor or something?" Why did he have this information? Chef Fletcher must have mentioned it to him. I didn't want to answer his question, but had to say something, I could feel his eyes burning through his curious expression.

"Something like that." I answered with a half smile. I looked at my watch; I only had five minutes until practical started.

"Well, whatever happened over break, you look good." He said with a smirk.

"Excuse me?" I asked, not bothering to hide my irritation now.

"Nothing, I'm just saying you look good, healthy. That first semester, I remember you; you were kind of pale and skinny looking. You look like, I don't know you got a tan or something; maybe you just had a hard time adjusting those first few months. Whatever you're doing now, keep it up, you look great."

It took all the strength I had not to punch him in the face. I made tight fists at my sides and breathed slowly, and counted my heartbeats that were coming faster by the second. I could practically see red, who the hell was this person and what did he know? "I have to go. Class starts in two minutes and I still have to get ready." I don't know how I was able to form a sentence without raising my voice or using obscenities, but I did.

He looked at his watch, "Oh, shit, I'm sorry, I gotta get over there too, I didn't mean to make you late,"

"That's fine, I'm sure I'll manage." Fury and confusion ebbed in my chest.

"I'm sure you will too." I turned and started to the door, "good talk Cullen," he called after me.

"Edward." I called back a little impatiently. I stormed down the hallway to the classroom, and walked right past it into the men's room. I needed to calm down even if it meant getting to class a few minutes late.

Thankfully, no one else was in there, I walked over to the sink and threw handfuls of cold water over my neck and face. I stared into the mirror at myself. Was it really that obvious? I couldn't see huge physical changes in myself. I looked the same, the same as I always had, my skin tone was a little darker, my eyes had changed color, I could see a few lines here and there, but nothing significant. The only person who would notice a change would be Bella, or another vampire. She was the only one who could memorize my face, and sight is just clearer when you're a vampire. To an average passerby, there was nothing different about me. How would a teacher's assistant notice anything? I stood back and looked at my whole body. Was I gaining weight? My pants did feel a little tighter, I was starving all of the time, was this shirt slightly snugger than...I stopped myself right there, immediately feeling ridiculous.

I longed to have a rational thought today. I cleared my head and thought to myself about what just happened in that classroom. Perhaps Chef Scott and I had gotten off on the wrong foot. Maybe he was just trying to give me a hard time because of the look I had given him earlier. And what right did I have to judge him? I had no grounds to stand on as to why I had a problem with him…until now. But, I would have to examine this further; maybe he was just trying to intimidate me. I chalked up our little altercation to an over production of testosterone and planned to go back to class with an open, but guarded mind. If this wasn't over, I would find out soon enough, and I would deal with him then. But, until that happened, I planned on going to my class, which I was now five minutes late for, and practice my chopping and sautéing skills for the remainder of the time. I grabbed my bag and headed down the hallway to the classroom.

When I arrived Chef Scott was still sharpening his knife and gathering supplies. He nodded at me as I walked in and headed to my workstation. I quickly unlocked my under the table locker and pulled out my things. I slipped into my jacket and buttoned it, luckily, I had sharpened my knives at the end of our last class, so I was actually ahead of the game. I waited for Chef to start. I should have known myself well enough to recognize that I was in no condition to chop produce and cook over a flame today. I was distracted and unable to focus on one thing. My mind kept wandering, and producing questions that I couldn't answer.

We were putting together a simple stir fry dish today, so it looked like I'd be able to get lunch after all. I preheated the skillet and waited a minute, that's when I had my first accident; my first accident in over one hundred years. I went to pour the oil into the skillet and was too distracted to realize how close my hand was to the pan and within a moment I had given myself a second degree burn.

"Dammit." I growled lowly, snatching my hand away, trying not to make a scene.

"Ooo, are you alright?" Asked a girl in the station next to mine.

"Yeah, I just, wasn't paying attention." I said calmly turning the cold water on and rolling up my sleeve, "thank you," I added politely. She smiled weakly and went back to whatever she was doing.

The cold water felt good against the burn, but as soon as I shut it off, the unpleasantness returned, causing me even more distraction. It was starting to blister already; it would leave a scar for sure. I continued on with my work, ignoring the injury as best I could. Chef Scott was going around to each station to check on all of us. Thankfully, the day was almost over, I would have one more class after this, and it was with Bella, and then we could go home and spend time together. I was at the last stage of the recipe, the garnish; I took a bunch of scallions out of the fridge and set them down on the massive wooden cutting board. I lined them up perfectly; holding them still with my aching burnt hand and took my knife in the other. I started chopping rapidly, and that's when I had my second accident; my second accident in forty minutes. Once again, not paying attention, I ran out of scallion and started rapidly chopping my finger instead. I sliced down right on the side of my index finger and this time, could not keep my voice low.

"Fff-uuu-ck!" I snarled, drawing out the word. I instinctively covered my bleeding hand with the other. Everyone looked up at me, a few gasped. Chef Scott hurried over and grabbed a towel and handed it to me.

"Are you alright?" he asked urgently.

"It'll be fine." I snapped, lifting the towel hesitantly to survey the damage. The bleeding would not stop and Chef backed away, giving me space. I wiped off some of the blood, long enough to see that I had a huge gash going down the side of my finger. I wouldn't be surprised if I needed sutures, I knew I would, in fact. The end of class was near and Chef was wrapping it up, still keeping away from me. I peeked under the towel again and saw that the blood was still flowing and now dripping down the front of my hand. A thick red line was being created as my blood slithered down my hand, close to the fresh burn. I watched in fascination for a moment, and then something very wrong happened, as the blood oozed along down my hand, it touched the burn, and suddenly, the pain from the burn noticeably decreased. I wiped off the blood and to my surprise, the burn looked like it was starting to heal. I stared at the burn, horrified by what I was seeing, I couldn't move, I was frozen where I stood.

"Edward," I heard him clear his throat, "Edward," Chef Scott placed a hand on my shoulder and I whirled around to face him, "Um, maybe you should go see the nurse practitioner on campus."

I stared at him speechless for a moment and then with my good hand grabbed my bag and went to see the nurse.

"How did you do this again?" The nurse asked me.

"Culinary major," I said flatly. I was missing my biology class with Bella. Of course to honor tradition we were partners and we had a dissection to get started on today. She'd have to start that by herself. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket; I sighed loudly and let my head drop back against the chair.

"Does that hurt?" The nurse asked as she threw in another suture. Honestly, it was a little uncomfortable, but nothing I couldn't ignore.

"Not really." My phone buzzed again, with my free hand I reached into my pocket. Where r u? Is everything alright? I typed back, I'll be late, start without me. I'll explain later. Love u.

By the time the nurse had stitched me up, Biology was essentially over. I walked over to at least meet Bella and walk with her to the car. I stood outside of the classroom, waiting, my nerves shot, I saw most of our class had left, Bella was probably stuck cleaning up everything used during lab. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she emerged from the lab.

"What's going on?" She asked, the moment she saw me, concern imprinted all over her face. Before I could explain, she saw the cumbersome, unnecessary bandage the nurse had wrapped my hand in. "My God, Edward what happened to you?!" She went to reach for my injured hand and I quickly pulled it away from her.

"Bella, please, I just…need to get out of here immediately." I said urgently, "I'll explain, just not, here."

She nodded and walked beside me as I strode down the hallway to the exit. As I walked along I unraveled the useless bandage I had been equipped with and stuffed it into the nearest trash bin. I got closer to Bella and put my arm around her waist.

"What's going on?" She whispered.

"I cut myself in class love. It's fine." I whispered back kissing her warm cheek. It amazed me how easily I could compose myself around her.

"Are those stitches?" She asked glancing at my hand.

"Later Bella, okay, please?" She nodded and didn't ask me anything else.

I walked her to the passenger side of my car and opened the door for her and closed it gently behind her. I climbed into the driver seat and waited a moment, taking deep breaths. I lowered my head, defeated, and let it rest against the steering wheel. I felt her hands on me, stroking my head with one and letting the other rest on my thigh.

"Edward, are you going to be alright?" She asked, worry in her voice.

"One can only hope."