Open Book

The next day was far better… I think.

It was better because it wasn't pouring rain, so I didn't have to full on sprint between buildings like a dingus to get to class. It was better because I sat with Becca and her friends again at lunch, which I somehow managed to remember everyone's names relatively easily. I even got a good rest the night before, so I didn't have dark circles looming under my eyes.

In gym, we got partnered up for badminton, so while all the other students picked their friends, I didn't know anyone in the class, so I was forced to partner up with the only student remaining; Archie Cullen. Luckily though, he didn't talk to me. In fact, he didn't even acknowledge that I existed besides the occasional looks he gave me when Coach Clapp asked him to share the court, as he was playing like a one-man team against another group. It was hard to even pay attention to what was going on, as my eyes somehow always managed to find their way back to the shaved-headed boy who danced around the court gracefully as he single handily beat every team we went against. I wondered if he knew about what happened the day before between me and his sibling.

One thing though, the day was also strange, because Beaufort Swan wasn't in school at all.

The whole morning, I was anxious for lunch, for if the boy kept giving me those bizarre looks, I would walk up to him and demand to know what his problem was. A gutsy move on my part. In the middle of my classes, I planned out what I was going to say to him as, so I didn't make myself seem foolish.

But, when I walked into the cafeteria, he was no where in sight. His four siblings were there, sitting at the table that they had been yesterday, and Beaufort's seat was empty.

A boy named Jeremy called both me and Becca over to the table where he'd sat with the rest of Becca's friends. I couldn't help but notice the little wave Becca gave one of the boys when we sat down. He was tall, with matte black hair and glasses. If I wasn't mistaken, his name was Allan Weber.

I waited, taking quick glances around the cafeteria, waiting for him to come; waiting for my time to strike. I was like a lion, quietly searching, waiting for the pray to jump out so I could attack.

But he didn't come. As time passed, I grew more anxious, coming up with different scenarios on why he wasn't in that lunch room; all of them boiling down to the same answer.

Me.

I walked to Biology with a girl named McKayla. She was quiet the whole walk there, which seemed wildly out of character, as if I remembered correctly, she was a complete chatterbox during lunch. When I walked in through the doorway, my breath hitched. He wasn't there either. I sighed, walking to my seat casually.

It felt a bit relieving that I had the desk to myself, as Beaufort wouldn't be able to distract me with those looks that made me want to flick my biology book at his face. I would be able to pay attention to the teacher without worry. That didn't happen though, as the whole class, my mind still somehow managed to think back to the boy. The nagging feeling that I was the reason he wasn't in school kept eating away at me. I wanted to try and think of some possible explanation as to why he wasn't here, but the answer was clear.

When the day finally came to an end, I packed up my Spanish book and quickly hurried out of the classroom. When I got outside, it was raining again (big surprise), and I quickly jogged to my truck.

One thing I found out last night; my father barely had any groceries in the house. He said, and I quote, 'Why bother cooking something when I could just go out to eat', and while that was a viable option for him, it certainly wasn't for me. As I was about to back out of the lot, I noticed that the two Cullen's and Hale twins were walking behind my truck, to which they came by the side to enter the shiny black Mercedes I was parked by.

I was kind of surprised for a second, before I noticed the clothing they wore; all designer stuff, which probably costed a fortune.

Now I definitely couldn't understand why they were outsiders. It must've be their choice, as there's no way a group that was as pretty and as rich as them couldn't make friends.

The loud roar of my truck's engine must have caught their attention, as one of the Hales – the golden-haired boy – looked in my direction. The face he wore was as cold as ice.

I was taken back by this. Maybe it wasn't just Beaufort that was impolite. After all, my new gym partner barely noticed my existence, and I certainly knew that I didn't deserve that cold stare goldilocks had given me. Maybe their whole family was just rude, and that's why they were outsiders.

The Thriftway wasn't too far from the school luckily, just a few streets south. It felt nostalgic to be in one. I did most of the grocery shopping back in Chicago as well, since my mother would usually work until the late hours of the evening. It felt natural, and I was easily able to fall into the simple routine that I had done for years. I couldn't even hear the rain outside hitting off the rooftop, so just for a little moment, it felt like I was home once again. Of course, the illusion was shattered when I stepped back out into the poring rain; plastic bags in hand.

As much as I loved sunshine, I didn't mind the rain either. There was no better feeling then cracking open the window on a rainy day, pulling up a chair, then having a book in one hand, and a hot beverage in the other. The thought of doing such a thing made me feel the tiniest bit of excitement, as I then decided that's exactly what I would do.

I was a simple person. It didn't take much to make me happy.

When I got home, I unloaded the groceries in the cupboards, stuffing anything anywhere there was space – which wasn't too hard, as most of them were empty. I then wrapped two potatoes in tinfoil and put them in the oven to bake, then covered two steaks in marinade and stuck them into the bare fridge.

After finishing up, I poured some water into the kettle, before turning on the stove. I jogged upstairs and into my room, tossing my bag onto the armchair before I began to rummage through drawers to find a book. After a bit of searching, I settled on Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. My mother had given it to me two Christmases ago, and I never had the time to read it till then.

I trotted back down to the kitchen, where began to take out a large mug and a tea bag, before taking the kettle off the stove and pouring myself a steamy cup. After adding some milk and sugar, I carefully walked back up to my room. I placed the mug down on my desk, then walked over to the corner where my bag sat on the raggedy arm chair. I tossed it off, before slowly but surely pushing the chair over to the window, to where I then opened it. I placed the mug on the windowsill, then flopped down onto the chair, pulling my legs up towards my chest as I opened the book.

I remained there for a solid hour, before hearing the front door open.

"Edy," I heard my father call out. "You home?"

"Yeah, dad!" I called back, putting a bookmark in-between the pages before heading back down stairs to meet my father in the kitchen.

"How was school today?" He casually asked, sitting down at the table with a paper in hand.

"Pretty good!" It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either.

I took the steaks out of the fridge, before turning the stove on once more and placing down a frying pan.

"Hnn, what're you cookin'?"

"Steak and potatoes – for the two of us." I added.

"Oh," He seemed surprised. "Well, thanks, darling."

I flashed him a smile.

It was silent while we ate, but not uncomfortably so. We both weren't the most talkative people, so it was relaxing. I had only arrived two days ago, yet I already found myself enjoying living with my father.

"So," he began, stabbing another piece of steak with his fork. "Make any friends at school?"

"Umm, a few, I guess." I mumbled. He seemed to be waiting for me to continue. "There's Becca and Allan, a-and I've also met a few of their friends, like McKayla-"

"Newton?" He cut me off. "Nice girl – nice family. Her father owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. Makes a real good living off all the backpackers who come through here."

"Do, you know the Cullen family?" I practically blurted out, which I immediately regretted.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Oh sure, Dr. Cullen is a great woman."

"Ah, okay…" I went silent, which seemed to make him grow curious.

"Why do you ask?"

How was I supposed to say that in my two days, I've made half of the Cullen family hate me? How was I supposed to explain why they hated me, because I certainly didn't know. I decided to go the safe route.

"The kids… They don't seem to fit in very well at school."

My father's face grew stern, which had surprised me. "The people in this town…" He mumbled. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon, who could probably work anywhere else and make ten-times the salary she gets here. We're very lucky to have her. Lucky that her husband wanted to live in a small town. She's an asset to this community. And their kids are the politest and well-behaved teenagers I've seen – and that's more than I can say for the children of some other folks who've lived in this town for generations."

It was the longest time I've ever heard my father speak.

"W-well they seem nice enough to me." I lied. "They're all really attractive."

"You should see the doctor." He grinned. "It's lucky she's happily married; a lot of the other hospital workers have a hard time concentrating on their work when she's around."

We lapsed back to silence as we began to finish eating. As we both cleared the table, I was about to start on the dishes when my father stopped me, saying that since I did all the cooking, he should do the cleaning. I was going to protest, but I remembered that I had homework to do anyways, so I graciously accepted and excused myself, going back up stairs to work.

That night I fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the busy day.

The rest of that week wasn't too eventful. I kept up a tradition of returning home to read more of my book, then cooking supper, then working on homework. By Friday I was acquittances with everyone at the lunch table, and was able to recognize, if not name, all the students at school. In gym, Archie Cullen still refused to speak with me, but he did acknowledge my existence much more often. He even let me have turns in badminton without the coach asking him.

Beaufort didn't come back to school.

Every day I found myself watching the rest of the Cullen's as they entered the cafeteria without him. Things were getting strange.

The people at my lunch table chatted mindlessly about some upcoming trip to La Push beach that McKayla was planning. Becca had invited me, though when she did, I saw the look that McKayla had given her, so I declined, thanking her anyway but coming up with some excuse as to why I couldn't. For whatever reason, McKayla didn't like me. I didn't question it though, as I would probably just end up just as confused and frustrated as I did with the Cullen's.

By Friday, it didn't even phase me that Beaufort wasn't in school. For all I knew, he had dropped out. I didn't let it bug me despite almost being completely sure that I was the reason he wasn't there, preposterous as it seemed.

The weekend passed by without incident. My father worked from his home office the whole weekend, so I basically had the entire house to myself. My mother had called me on Saturday to see how I was doing. I was completely honest with her, telling her I was doing good. She seemed happier, though I could only judge by the sound of her voice. I could tell she was enjoying being on the road. I had finished Twenty-Thousand Leagues, and on Sunday ended up going to the library. I didn't get a card though, as the selection there was lackluster. I would have to make plans to head to Olympia or possibly Seattle to find a good bookstore.

People happily greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning, which really put a boost in my mood. I of course greeted back, luckily remembering most, if not everyone's name. It was colder than usual that morning, but it didn't rain. In calculus, Becca took her seat by me, chatting casually.

Overall, it was a great day. I was feeling very comfortable in this new environment already.

When we walked out of class, the first thing I noticed was the white flakes falling from the sky. People shouting excitedly to each other met my ears.

"Oh wow, it's snowing." Becca said in awe. She then turned to me. "Does it snow much in Chicago?"

"Yes, but not often though." I smiled.

"Well, you better get use to it, cause it's going to happen a lot here." She grinned back.

Soon, the snowballs began flying, and I quickly said my goodbyes to Becca, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

Throughout the morning, there was excited chatter about the snow. In government, McKayla was planning a snowball fight after school. She seemed to be in such a good mood that she even personally invited me to join, though I had a feeling that she only did this so she could try and lob a snowball at my face. I pleasantly declined with a smile, which seemed to irritate her slightly. I forcibly stopped the chuckle that tried to erupt within me.

Gym class was the same. Archie Cullen's hair was slightly wet, which I could only assume was from him and his siblings joining in on the fight. He was a lot friendlier today. He even greeted me with a polite 'Hello' when I walked over next to him with my racket, which had caught me off guard.

I jogged from the gym to the cafeteria, successfully dodging all the snowballs that were flung in my direction – McKayla no doubt. I felt like treating myself that day, as I bought one of those greasy pizzas that looked disgusting yet amazing at the same time. There weren't many people at the lunch table when I got there, as most of them were outside, still playing in the snow. Allen Weber was there, and I greeted him with a warm smile.

When I heard laugher, my head turned in the direction of the table I had been staring at all last week, and I froze.

There were five people at the table.

The first half of lunch, I cautiously drank from my bottle of water, and took tiny bites of the pizza in front of me. I don't know whether it was the grease, or the fact that he had returned, but my stomach felt slightly upset.

I let myself take just one peak over at the Cullen's table. If he was giving me that weird look again, I would walk over there and confront him like I was going to do last week.

I glanced over cautiously, noticing that no set of eyes were looking in my direction, so I began to fully stare at them.

They were all laughing, even Beaufort. Their hair was all entirely saturated from the melting snow. Archie and Royal had to lean away when the tall girl, Eleanor, started shaking her dripping hair in their direction. They were enjoying the snow day just as much as everyone else. It made them look a bit more normal, though not completely, as they looked like a scene from a movie compared to the rest of the student body.

"Edythe, what are you looking at?" I heard Becca ask me over my shoulder.

At that very moment, his eyes flashed over to meet mine.

I glanced away, looking over to Becca.

"Nothing." I muttered.

At that split moment, when he looked at me, I saw no fear and no resentment. I almost felt relieved. I then began doubting myself. Had I made the whole thing up? No, that didn't seem possible. The way he looked at me in biology would be clearly etched into my mind for the rest of eternity.

"Beaufort Swan is looking at you." Becca whispered.

My eyes traveled back over to the table, where I confirmed what Becca had said. He was staring, but still not with resentment. It was a look that seemed casual – almost friendly even. It made me furious. I gave the boy a hard glare, which seemed to shock him for a moment, before his gaze was torn away.

I felt myself smile a bit, feeling like I had accomplished something. What that was, I hadn't the clue, but it felt good nonetheless.

"Did something happen between the two of you?" Becca asked me, obviously curious.

"No, but for whatever reason, I don't think he likes me that much."

"Oh, well I don't think you need to take it personally. The Cullen's don't like anyone – well they don't notice anyone enough to like them."

"Well that seems kind of rude."

Becca only shrugged with a faint smile.

For the rest of the lunch hour, I listened in on the conversation at the table. McKayla was still talking about the epic battle she was planning at the end of the day. She tried inviting me once more, but I declined again. I didn't dare look back over at the Cullen's.

After lunch ended, we all got up simultaneously, though as we began to exit the cafeteria, everyone besides myself groaned in unison. It was now raining, washing away all traces of snow. I didn't mind of course, though I did feel bad for the others.

I walked behind a complaining McKayla on the way to biology. I questioned what I was going to do when I got there. Would I simply ignore the boy, or would I confront him, asking what last week was all about?

As I walked into the classroom, my eyes went over to my table. He was sitting there, hand together on top of the desk, eyes on the book in front of him. I hung my coat on the hook before I began walking over. I sat down, and the rattling chair seemed to catch his attention, but he didn't look up from his book. He was sitting on the very edge of his chair.

I surprised myself by what came next.

"Hello." I said in a quite yet slightly cheerful voice. The boy's eyes immediately glanced up at me, almost looking shocked. I couldn't help but stare as his face looked inhumanly perfect, and the wide eyes made him look like an innocent puppy. Something skipped in my chest.

"I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. I'm Edythe Masen. You're Beaufort?" I questioned despite already knowing. The name was hard to forget, as it had been on my mind for a week now.

There was a pause. His face became unreadable, and my stomach almost immediately started doing flips, thinking of every scenario on how that moment could go wrong. His lips parted slightly, and he began to speak.

"Beau." Was all he said.

"Beau?" I questioned, feeling unreasonably taken back by how soft his voice was.

"I l-like to go by Beau, not Beaufort."

"Oh, okay. Beau." I corrected myself.

Had I made the whole thing up? He seemed friendly enough today. Shy of course, but that was to be expected.

I was cut out of my trance by Mrs. Banner. I tried to concentrate on what she was saying. She told the class we would be doing a lab today, to where she passed around boxes each filled with a microscope and slides for it. Working as partners, we would have to identify and separate onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't allowed to use our books, but that didn't bother me. I had already done this lab months back in Chicago, so I would be able to show off.

"Get started," she commanded.

"Ladies first, partner?" I asked the boy with a smile. He stared at me, remaining silent. I still couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Uh, sure, go ahead." He stuttered out.

I nodded, yanking the heavy scope over towards me, before slipping the first slide in.

"Prophase." I said, almost immediately recognizing it. I was about to pull the side out, but then I stopped myself, turning to the boy with a taunting smile. "Or did you want to check?" I challenged.

He seemed surprised by this. "Uh, no, I'm good."

Hmpt, you're no fun, I thought to myself.

Switched out the slide quickly, before looking down the eyepiece once again.

Anaphase. Picking up my pencil, I wrote it down. I then looked for the next slide, only to find it on his side of the desk. I held out my hand, looking at him. He seemed confused, before his eyes followed mine down to the slide in front of him.

"Oh." He murmured, picking up the side to pass over to me. I reached out to grab it, but when my fingers suddenly touched his skin, I felt my hand shoot back slightly. He seemed taken back as well. His fingers were ice cold, as if he held them in a snowbank for an hour.

"Sorry." I said, reaching back over to grab it. As I was about to put the slide in, I heard a voice speak my name.

"Ms. Masen?"

I looked up, seeing Mrs. Banner speaking to me.

"Yes, Mrs. Banner?" Her face looked slightly disapproving, and I instantly knew what it was about. I found myself pushing the microscope towards the boy before she could even finish what she was going to say.

"Perhaps you should let Mr. Swan have an opportunity to learn?"

"Of course, Mrs. Banner." I agreed, before glancing over to the boy, sliding the work sheet over towards him as well, giving him the OK.

His hand reached up to hold onto the scope, before he leaned down ever so slightly to peak into the scope.

"Metaphase." He said almost immediately, glancing back up to me. I was shocked, as he identified it faster than I even would have. I found myself doubting his judgement. The boy went to take out the slide, but my hand shot over.

"Mind if I check?" I asked with a smile, ignoring his freezing hand. It felt as if though electric currents ran up my fingers as I did this.

He didn't say anything, and merely pushed the scope back to me. I investigated the scope, only to feel myself curse under my breath.

He was right.

"Metaphase." I agreed, pushing it back over to him. I watched as he picked up a pencil to write it down, and I couldn't help but be memorized by his writing. It was just as good (if not better than) mine.

After a moment of looking around, I saw his glance land over next to me, to which he then held his hand out. I looked over wondering what he was asking for. As I saw the last slide, I understood. Though not understanding the reason as we're able to narrow down the answer, I passed it over to him.

"Well, the last is no mystery, regardless." I said, though I scolded myself, as I sounded like I was on the edge of laughter.

"Oh, right." He said, to which he then let out a laugh that sounded so impossibly magnificent. He then wrote Telophase on the last line on the worksheet.

I glanced around, only to notice we were the first ones done. McKayla and her partner seemed to be having major trouble, and another group had a book open under the desk. This left me with nothing to do besides take glances at the boy, who was once again looking down at his book.

There seemed to be a strange look in his eyes, but I couldn't pin it down no matter how hard I tried.

I felt unreasonably bothered. Usually, I was always so good at reading people, but this boy was just so hard to understand. His face was always showing the same emotion, so I couldn't read him no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't judge him by his moments either, as he sat as still as a statue; staring down at the book as if he knew how much I was bothered. He didn't even look like he was breathing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. Banner begin to make rounds, and when she walked by us, she gave us a strange look, more than likely thinking why we weren't working. She glanced over our shoulders at the worksheet, before looking surprised.

"So, Edythe…" she began, but I cut her off.

"Beau identified half of the slides," I informed her. She looked over to the boy, who was witnessing the interaction. He merely nodded in agreement. She seemed to accept this without question and turned to walk away. The boy went back to looking at his book.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" I asked him, trying to get him to engage in more conversation.

"I guess so." He spoke, not looking up.

"You don't like the cold." It was more of a statement than a question, though I couldn't see how that was possible, as judging by his fingers, he seemed to enjoy himself today.

"No, it's not that, it's just…" he trailed off, looking up to meet my gaze.

"You like the sunshine better?"

"Yeah." He smiled faintly.

"Where are you from?" I asked. I was becoming more and more intrigued by this strange boy by the minute.

He seemed taken back by this and was hesitant to answer.

"Phoenix." His voice came out like a whisper. "Phoenix, Arizona."

"Ah, no wonder why you like the sun." I mused. He didn't speak, so I continued. "Forks must be a difficult place for you to live."

He merely shrugged.

"So, Dr. Cullen is your foster parent?" I asked, not wanting the conversation to end.

He seemed hesitant with this question as well. "Yes."

I wondered if he thought I was being nosey. Maybe so, but I didn't care all too much.

"How long have you been with Dr. Cullen?"

He paused, his eyes narrowing at me. "A while."

"Ah…"

"W-what about you?" He muttered out. He really was shy.

"What about me?" I smiled at him.

"Do you like the sun?"

"As much as anyone else, I guess."

"And the snow?"

"A-Okay in my books."

He paused, nodding while taking in my answers. I was expecting him to say more, but he never. I didn't want it to end though.

"Where were you last week?"

His eyes shifted to me, and for a second, I could see a flash of anger, though almost instantly it dissipated.

"…I had to um… visit family."

That was a lie.

"Really?" I questioned, leaning onto my propped-up hand. "But I thought you were a foster kid."

"I-I am, but my mother has relatives that live in Seattle, so I decided I would go visit them for a couple of days."

"Ah, I see. Do you have much family besides your parents and siblings?"

The boy paused for a moment, before turning his full attention to me.

"Why do you care?"

It took a moment for me to realise what he asked.

"That's a very good question." I hummed. Why did I care? Why was I trying to get this strange and mysterious boy to explain his life story to me? I couldn't even understand it myself, though that wasn't surprising, as anything involving this boy I couldn't seem to make sense of. I turned my head back to the boy, taking him in, trying to understand even the simplest things he did. He seemed to notice me, and his eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "Did I… Am I annoying you?"

I felt myself smile at this. In a way yes, but it wasn't his fault. "No, if anything, I'm annoyed with myself."

"Why?"

I cocked my head to the side. "Reading people… it usually comes very easily to me. But I can't—I guess I don't know quite what to make of you. Is that funny?"

His mouth formed into a line. "More… unexpected. My parents always call me their open book. According to them, you can all but read my thoughts printing out across my forehead."

My lips pursed at this, as I stared intently at the boy, though almost immediately I felt myself give up, to which I smiled again. "I suppose I've gotten overconfident."

"Um, sorry?"

I laughed at this. As if he had anything he needed to be apologetic for.

Mrs. Banner called the class to order, but I couldn't seem to give her my full attention. I felt dizzy in a strange way. I full on expected to lose my temper on him somehow, yet all I did was have a pleasant conversation with a boy who I still hadn't the clue hated me or not?

And it was almost like he read my mind. From the corner of my eye, I saw that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.

As class was about to end, I quickly packed up all my things, before walking out the door once the bell rang, not once looking back at Beau.

I couldn't concentrate in Spanish class one bit. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if I somehow managed to fail the course at the end of the school year.

It was misty when I had gotten outside. Luckily, I had been parked relatively close to the building, so I was in the cab with time to spare. I got the heat running quickly, and for once I didn't mind the ear-deafening roar that the truck produced.

Before I had the chance to pull out, I looked across the lot, spotting Beau about to unlock the door to the black Mercedes, his eyes on me. I pulled the gear shift into drive, but I was too caught up in Beau's stare, for as I drove ahead slightly, I slammed on the brakes, almost hitting a car drove by in front of me. With a heavy sigh, I pushed on the gas once again, pulled out of the lot, but I could swear as I glanced back, Beau had a faint smile on his face.