Death to the Non-Believer

Chapter 8

By the time I got to my next class I was totally out of breath and my cheeks were apple red. Everyone in the room was already talking about the snow fall — apparently the first decent one of the season — when I walked in. I spent the entire hour staring dreamily out the window in a happy stupor. It seemed everyone had the same idea as Eric and Mike, and by third period I had to hold my binder up to shield myself from the crossfire. Jessica said she thought I was hilarious, but I saw the twinkle in her eye, and had a retaliation-snowball ready with her name on it. I didn't mind the snow on me — I was already fighting the urge to throw myself headfirst into the nearest pile — but I'd be darned if I was going to get my papers wet. I did all of my writing in ink, and I didn't have to be Jack Frost to know that melted snow would not be very ink-friendly. Or maybe it was the drippy way that Mike's spiked hair had begun to wilt by lunch time that drove my aversion to the beautiful snow. He and Jessica talked animatedly back and forth about who had caught whom where and how many times and with how big a snowball. I wondered if there was some kind of system to keep track—this whole snow thing was so new.

Their chatter continued as our group moved towards the lunch line, my eyes scanning subconsciously for oncoming projectiles. It seemed one could never be too at ease next to Mike, who had made himself the school's main snow-target-

He was there. Suddenly the din of the caf faded away and I was at full attention. There, next to Alice, across from Rosalie, laughing as if he hadn't a care in the world, rosy-cheeked as if he were almost alive, sat Edward Cullen. My heart fell to my feet and bounced around in my toes. I don't know how long I stood in a horrified daze before the tugging on my sleeve brought me back to the lunchroom.

"Hello? Bella?" whined Jessica impatiently. "What do you want?"

I looked up at her, then Mike, both holding their trays and staring at me, and then looked down at the steaming trays of chicken wings and mashed potatoes. Suddenly nothing looked appetizing.

"What's with Bella?" Mike asked. I was starting to space out. Again.

"Nothing," I lied, as my eyes began to focus again. "I'll just get a soda today." I quickly grabbed a diet coke and headed for our usual table. Jessica and Mike, who had paused in their initial confusion, hurried to catch up to me as I made a bee line to the nearest empty table amidst the throng of students.

"Aren't you hungry?" Jessica asked, falling skippingly into stride behind me.

"Actually, I feel a little sick," I replied, still bobbing and weaving expertly through the human traffic. My stomach did another flip-flop as I slid hurriedly into my chair with a scrape.

He was back.

He wasn't supposed to be back. I clutched my Coke as I sipped at it to hide my shaking hands. I knew he returned in the book, but I'd thought… I looked up at their table. I thought I'd given him a chance to escape.

I thought he'd take it.

I watched their little group laughing and chatting happily like characters in a Normal Rockwell postcard. It didn't look like a show. I knew better. I was sure that even as he revealed that dazzling smile Edward was scanning the thoughts of every person within five feet of Bella – of me – straining to gauge my reaction. But as I looked closer, I noticed that some of that vigor was genuine. Edward's eyes had returned to their normal clear amber – a far cry from the soulless black I had last seen. His cheeks had color, too, and the dark circles under his eyes had faded.

My fear was immediately tempered as my curiosity took over. This was a conundrum. How could Edward Cullen have rosy cheeks? My apple cheeks were the result of blood gathering in my face. Did the Cullens even technically have blood? I had thought their shining paleness was caused by their lack of blood. I continued to stare as I racked my brain for anything in the book that would have explained it, but the text was becoming fuzzy in my head. Why would he-

"Bella, what are you staring at?" Jessica interrupted my train of thought, and for a moment I looked down. I knew what would happen next. Jessica followed my line of site to the infamous corner table.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you," she continued. I knew he would be. Jessica had unintentionally summoned his gaze by uttering my name. He must have been burning to know what Bella was thinking. Or maybe just to know what she tasted like. But then again-

"He doesn't look… angry, does he?" I asked, still staring into my soda.

"No," she scrunched up her nose incredulously. "Should he be?"

To that, I didn't have an answer. I tried to remember the Edward from the book. Surely he hated Bella, the girl who confounded his powers, who endangered his quiet life, who posed a risk to his family and his own sanity. Surely he would despise the one girl who had come so close to turning him back into the monster he so desperately fought within himself. A girl who represented his greatest challenge.

But he had come back. From wrestling bears, or playing woodsman, or whatever he had done the past week, despite the danger he had come back.

So he was someone who faced his fears. I'd give him that. But was he magnanimous, too?

I unfurrowed my brow and looked up to meet his gaze with my own now calm one and looked into his eyes. They were curious, like mine. I searched his face, scanning for a hint of that anger, that bloodlust, but found none. He had re-conquered the predator – for now at least. I felt the last of my fear melt away.

"I don't think he likes me" I whispered, knowing he would hear, though his face gave away nothing. The words tasted sad on my lips. Now that I wasn't terrified, I could pity the large burden that Bella's – my – existence posed to the Cullen family.

"The Cullens don't like anybody," Jessica spat bitterly. I turned to look at her to see if the vitriol in her voice matched her face, but she maintained her mask of sweetness. "Well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them." She looked back toward the corner table.

"But he's still staring at you." Jessica was too easy to read.

"Stop looking at him," I said. There was no point in her longing for or fuming over something that would never be. And, having read the script of her fate, I knew that Edward Cullen at least would never be in the cards for her. But Mike-

"Hey, Jessica-" as if he'd read my mind, Mike leaned over and began to describe his plans for a 'battle of the blizzard' to be held after school (unfortunately his plans would be in vain, as I could already hear the familiar pitter patter of rain on the roof), leaving me to my thoughts. I didn't look at Edward Cullen again during lunch, though my mind was full of him.

The bell rang, and I spared a glance back at the seat next to him. Alice didn't seem concerned – and it was Alice who would know to be worried. She had a cautionary hand placed on Jasper's leg, as she had all through the past week (I vaguely remembered a newly weaned Jasper being a chief source of worry for the early-chapter Cullens), but she took no such precaution with Edward.

He was staring at me again, no doubt putting all his concentration into listening for Bella's thoughts. Was it terrifying? Frustrating? To Edward the ability to hear others was just another one of his senses, like sight or touch must be for a human. How would I react, I wondered, if suddenly I encountered someone I couldn't see or feel? It would be maddening.

I steeled myself. If he could face his fears, so would I. I smiled at him, and his brow furrowed ever so slightly. See you in Biology.

A/N: Wow, I realized I had this saved on my desktop for like… a year. Along with a good chunk of the next few chapters. I miss writing, so expect at least a few more chapters in the next weeks.