Was the jerk really so stuck up that he thought he could get out of the forced group assignment? I hardly doubted any of us wanted to do this, but we were able to suck it up and deal with it. We weren't acting like toddlers – at least externally.

It wasn't like I wanted to be his partner any more than he wanted to be mine. Sure, I wanted to know more about him, but I had intended to get it from a distance, not up close and personal. How was this going to happen? How would this even work? He didn't talk to anyone. He didn't interact or even acknowledge that others existed. And he'd glared at me as if I had run over his entire family. What was I supposed to do when we needed to meet up? Go to his house?

The thought made my stomach queasy. No one knew where the Masens lived. And, though I didn't mind Alice in the least, I dreaded the idea of the rest of his family wandering about, possibly watching us while I struggled to pull single words from Edward.

With this new predicament running every terrible scenario through my head, I had a hard time concentrating in gym.

Though I didn't look like the girls on the volleyball team or the track team, I enjoyed sports and I was competitive. The better at a sport I was, the more aggressive in the game I tended to be. At tennis I was passable and baseball was fun, but basketball and soccer I was almost useless. They required a lot of running, which in turned required long term stamina and that I was low on. Volleyball didn't need as much in a short period of time and I relished in it. And, to my luck, we were still playing it today.

With my mind preoccupied, however, I let the ball hit the floor several times, failing to realize it was in my area before it was too late. After several dirty and confused looks from my teammates, I was able to shake out all thoughts until it was my turn to take a break on the sidelines.

During that time, I sat on the bench with the others who weren't currently on the court and played the image of Edward's hateful stare over again in my head. It was vicious, glaringly heightened from his typical expression that I was used to seeing. I barely suppressed the shudder that wanted to roll up my spine. I couldn't have possibly done anything to warrant this kind of response.

Tanner came and joined me when he was subbed out, sweat pushing out from his pores along the outline of his forehead, making his light brown hair stick in small swirls.

"How you holdin' up?" he asked.

From his expression, I knew he wasn't talking about the game. My team was losing by three and on any normal day, I'd be playing backseat coach from the sidelines, calling out to whoever was closest to the ball.

"I'm fine," I let out slowly, keeping my eyes on Savannah, who was currently serving for my team. She overhanded the ball, hitting it with a hard slap. The other team yelled that it was out so no one moved to set it up. The ball landed on the two-inch back white line. Point for us.

"Any idea how you're going to approach it?"

Despite the tutoring frustration, this was why I liked Tanner. His brain looked at everything like an equation to be solved and at times like these, it was comforting. He didn't concentrate on the fact that Edward was a loner who sometimes scared people. Instead, Tanner wanted me to think about how I would get the project done with as little friction as possible. Unfortunately, I was coming up with nothing.

I slumped back against the bleachers, defeated. "I don't know. I overheard Edward trying to get out of being partnered with me. Or being partnered at all, really."

Tanner nodded thoughtfully. His wheels visibly turned as his eyes stared blankly at the polished floor. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"I'll seriously take anything right now," I let out a small, desperate laugh.

"Go to class tomorrow extra prepared," he offered. I tilted my head, confused. He shifted so he was facing me head on. "Hear me out. When you get home tonight, find a topic you want to do the project on and research the hell out of it. Know exactly what equations you need and what the essay can be about. When you tell Edward about it, be assertive, but listen to his ideas too, if he has any."

I had been following his trail carefully, but then I hit a tree. "What exactly will that do?"

"Show him that you're taking this seriously; that you're not messing around. He won't have to worry about you slacking on your part. You'd be surprised how often that works."

I chewed Tanner's suggestion over for a minute. Maybe that could work. And maybe I was taking it too personal and Edward was just worried about having to depend on someone else for a good grade. Weren't the rest of us anxious about the exact same thing? The only difference was that he was brave enough to try and get out of it.

A small, but determined smile broke out across my face.

"There you go," Tanner laughed.

I made it through the rest of gym without a hitch. My team won three out of the four games and the glares from my teammates turned into high fives. Class ended and I started planning out possibilities as I changed out of my uniform.

Waiting outside, Abby was leaning against the brick building, fiddling with a string on her yellow raincoat. Tanner was walking away from her and towards the parking lot as I came up to take his place.

"Tanner told me what Edward did," she said apologetically. "That's harsh."

I waved it off. Now that I had a plan, the anxiety of the unfortunate situation had dissipated significantly. "I'm just going to show him that I'm taking the work seriously."

"Are you okay with having to meet up with him outside of school?" She looked up at me with genuine concern.

Rolling my eyes, I stopped walking when we reached her car. "He's not a serial killer, Abby. Just a little… antisocial."

She snorted. "No, you're a little antisocial. He downright hates everybody."

Her words bothered me, though I couldn't grasp on to any reason why. A tiny section of my brain insisted that there had to be more to his story, a reason behind the harsh eyes.

"I'm sure if I get to know him, I'll find that he's actually a decent guy," I defended.

Abby shot me a look like I was crazy as she opened her car door.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, a chuckle hidden underneath. She shook her head, muttering something to herself as she sat down behind the wheel.

Trying to stamp down the sparking irritation, I walked away before she started her car. My own was only a few rows down. I threw open my door and tossed my bag inside onto the passenger's seat. Before I slid in, my eyes caught Edward headed straight in my direction. Involuntarily, my heart started pounding and my grip tightened on the sharp edge of the door. I wasn't mentally prepared for this confrontation. It'd throw off my whole plan. To a little bit of relief, Alice was right behind him, looking pleased. Maybe she'd help buffer the conversation.

I braced myself for impact, but it never came. Edward shifted his direction ever so slightly, passing me two cars down the row. His frown deepened as he did. Alice waved at me, seemingly oblivious to her brother's attitude. Or maybe she didn't care. Either was possible when it came to the living pixie.

I gladly returned her smile, waved back, and got into my car to join the line of students waiting to escape school grounds.

The first thing I did when I arrived at my empty home was run upstairs to grab my larger tablet and bring it back down to the first floor. I didn't like doing homework in my room. It felt like a violation of my sacred space. So, instead, I set up at the kitchen island, pulling my note tablet out of my bag. I loved the feeling of writing on the smaller gray square. It wrote like paper but everything was able to stay together in one place, assignments could be sent in to teachers, and it illuminated useless waste. Every student was given one at the beginning of the school year thanks to an anonymous donor.

My computer fired up quickly, the screen shining brightly on the login screen, which unlocked with a quick scan of my index finger. I started my favorite playlist for casual background noise while I mulled over the physics textbook, going through the different chapters we've covered. I needed a subject that wasn't simple, but also not overly complicated so I could understand it and be able to convey it to other people. Newton's three laws of motion were definitely out for falling under the former.

As I scrolled through the pages, I hummed along with the songs, albeit not very prettily. They were old, from around the nineteen-fifties. Not the typical music teenagers sang along to.

When I was thirteen, I was introduced to Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack by my grandmother while staying with her for a week. Dad was out of town for work and Mom needed to stay with Mick during his team's run in the baseball playoffs that summer. At first, I was hesitant about spending such quality time with my grandmother. Visits with her up until then had only been Sunday dinners and holidays with the family. But it turned out to be one of the best weeks of my life. She had a collection of old movies, not quite as old as the music, but they used the songs for the soundtrack. The films would play in the background while we baked cookies and cakes and truffles. Now that my grandmother had passed away, I clung to the soundtrack that made up my most precious memories.

Mick hated the music. Too brassy for his taste. But no matter how much he made fun of me, I kept listening. There was something warm about the notes and there was simultaneously a simplicity and a depth to the words; the way I saw my grandmother.

I didn't fault Mick, though, for his tastes being the complete opposite of my own. For him, latest was greatest. He followed the trends, blasting Top 40 hits from his sporty speakers. It made me sad that he didn't branch out into the past, but it did make Mick popular.

Girls thought he was gorgeous. Which, okay, objectively, was accurate. He got all of Dad's glory day looks with the deep chestnut hair, a strong chin, and in decently good shape. While not quite the football star when he was still at Forks High School, he was the starting running back, so he was definitely one of them. Mick was effortlessly cool and easy to hang out with. I, on the other hand, was coasting through the middle ground and was perfectly content with that. I wasn't at the bottom because no one wanted to be on Mick's bad side, even if it had already been a year since he graduated and gone off to college.

But I wasn't pretty enough or outgoing enough to be near the top either. It didn't matter. I had friends who cared and I was happy. For the most part.

My phone buzzed against the granite counter. Flipping it over, a picture of EJ laughing lit up my screen. There was a temptation not to answer it. Give him a little taste of his own medicine. The little voice in my head, driven by possible guilt, said that it could be important. Graham could have done something stupid again, like cliff diving.

Or it could be the exact phone call that I had been dreading.

Giving in, I picked it up and tapped the little green button, opting to have him on speaker in order to continue scrolling through my computer for the physics project.

"I swear, if you're canceling on me, I'm driving over to your house and kicking your ass." I felt no need to go through the pleasantries.

"No, no, I'm not." EJ's voice came through the speaker in a panic. I didn't normally answer with so much hostility and it had him back tracking from his initial greeting. "I've got it all worked out."

Okay, whatever that means. "Alright then, what's with the surprise phone call?" I leaned back in my seat, my foot resting on the edge of the counter to move my chair back and forth. Mom would have snapped at me for putting my foot where she makes dinner. I'd make sure to wipe it down later.

"What? A guy can't just call his friend that he hardly sees in order to catch up?"

A snort escaped. "You know, a surprise visit would be even better."

EJ cleared his throat. Someone in the background said something unintelligible. Someone else – probably EJ – punched him, resulting in a whimper. He must be with Graham or Alex or both. It was frustrating, the amount of time they got with EJ and I was left scrounging for scraps.

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's a bit complicated right now."

"Everything always is now, isn't it?" I snapped, leaning forward in my chair and resting my elbows on the granite. If we hadn't met when we both were well into puberty, I would blame it on that and my lack of understanding of what they go through, but that wasn't the case here. For the truth, I was coming up empty.

"Come on, don't be like that," he pleaded. The genuine hurt in his voice softened me up. But I still didn't know what to say. He might have been hurt in the second, but I was the one continuously hurting. But I didn't want to get into another fight about his constant canceling and skirting around the reasons. He changed the subject at my silence. "How was school today?"

"It was fine," I answered, all hostility gone from my voice. I was too exhausted for it all. And this was a rare moment of normalcy. So, I told myself to be normal. "We're about a third of the way through Great Expectations."

"Is it everything you expected it to be?"

I laughed hard at his lame joke. "The book? Sure. The class work? Not at all. It can be kind of boring since I've read it already and hardly anyone really participates."

"Is there an old book you haven't read yet?"

That took me a moment to answer. I had to mentally go through my TBR shelf upstairs in my room. Older books were much more interesting than the more popular storylines of today's bestsellers. I still read them, but it was the stories from a world long gone that I preferred. "Dracula hasn't been tackled yet."

"Ugh." There was genuine disgust in his tone. "Vampires."

"Hey, don't hate," I scolded playfully. "That is a classic gothic novel."

"I'm sure there are more interesting books out there," EJ insisted.

Despite the mental log of information on EJ I had gathered throughout our friendship, I couldn't find a reason for his hate against a piece of fiction. Even a cliché one like Dracula. There were plenty of novels that we had discussed before. Even when we disagreed on whether a story was good or not, it usually wasn't because of a trope. I clicked my tongue thoughtfully. "Possibly. But it's withstood the test of time for a reason. You know, the out of sight horror, the mystery of who could be next, and the enticement of the titular character."

"Then read Phantom."

I rolled my eyes. My brain was too filled up with physics to have a debate on how different those two novels were at their core.

"So, anything else happen?"

Saving the conversation by changing it. I was thankful for it. So much that I didn't fully think about my reply. "We got assigned a group project in physics today."

"Ouch."

"Tell me about it," I groaned. "At least it's with just groups of two, so it shouldn't be too bad."

"Who'd you get stuck with?"

I immediately stopped short.

When the Masens first moved here, there was an obvious shift in attitude on the reservation, especially among the council elders. I didn't know many of them personally. The only time we interacted was when I was with EJ picking up hiking supplies at the convenience store. But EJ had told me about how weird people were acting, some of them even refusing to go to the hospital in Forks now that Dr. Cullen was on the payroll. Once upon a time, EJ had found it ridiculous, laughing about it whenever the subject came up. His very intimidating father – one of the elders though he's easily twenty years younger than the rest of them – took the matter more seriously. His serious gaze would hone in on EJ's causing his son's mouth to snap shut.

"Someday, you'll understand," he would say.

We hadn't talked about the Masens in a long while, but even EJ didn't crack jokes anymore. The opposite, in fact.

I decided – in this instance – ignorance was bliss.

"Oh, no one you know. Just a guy in my class."

EJ didn't appreciate the avoidance. "You gonna be spending a lot of time together now?"

The accusation in voice rubbed me the wrong way. His tone said it was more than me just spending some time with another guy. Like he knew exactly who my partner was.

Or maybe he didn't. Thinking like that was ludicrous. How could he possibly know the inner workings of my physics course? Maybe Mom had been right all along. Maybe it did all boil down to jealousy and I was just grasping at straws for some other logical reason. My stomach dropped.

"We're just working on a school project and only one day outside of class is required." I tried to keep my voice nonchalant. It probably didn't work. Theatrics were not my strong suit. "Speaking of which, I should probably get back to it. I've got to have the proposal done before class tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay." The bitterness was gone, but so was the cheer. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Sloane."

I wasn't exactly sure what he was apologizing for, whether it was his distancing or the prying into my business. Either way, it didn't matter in the end. I would forgive him over and over, for anything.

"Hey, you're fine," I reassured him. "We still meeting at the store parking lot Saturday?"

I could almost see him perking up on the other side of the phone line. "Absolutely! Bright and early!"

"All right. I'll see you then."

"See ya. Bye."

"Bye."

I watched as the screen blinked the end of the call.

Friendship with EJ was drifting into complicated territory. And I don't know how we ever left the initial river. Those waters were calm, hardly needing steering or caution. Then one day, I looked up and the waters had turned into rapids. I loved him, but I wondered if I could keep being on this rope. He had secrets. Which was fair. Everyone was owed their secrets to hold close to themselves. Still, I felt compelled to try and pull it out of him. Because it was affecting me. At least, it felt like it was affecting me. I wanted to keep EJ in my life. Where do I find the balance?

A new text from Mom broke me out of my sinking thoughts. She informed me that they would be back later tonight, most likely after dark and close to bedtime. They were still in Olympia checking out flooring prices. From the tone of her message, it didn't look promising.

To be honest, I was thankful for the empty house. Like Tanner, Dad liked science. Especially space and aerospace engineering. Perfect for a man who worked for the largest airplane manufacturing company. He would insist on helping me find a subject.

Hmm.

Sparking my creativity, I began the deep dive into my research.

Lately, Dad was all about the newest manned mission to Mars. To the point that he had devoured nearly every Mars/Space movie he could get his hands on just so he had an excuse to discuss the differences between fiction and reality. It was driving Mom crazy, who – like me – preferred a nice romantic comedy or period piece.

One of the movies Dad had convinced me to watch with him was about a guy who had been stranded on Mars after a freak accident kept him from leaving with his crew. From what I remembered of the plot, there was plenty of physics material to work with, including atmospheric pressure, gravity changes, and using Earth like a sling-shot to boost the rocket's power. Perfect.

I started printing like crazy, looking through dozens of websites that explained the science of the film and debunked other parts. Most of the sites were old and it took me a while to decipher the home pages with their odd formats. The sun crept down below the horizon and was gone by the time I finished the vague outline of the essay. It didn't need to be too intricate, only enough to convey my idea to Edward.

All my other homework still waited for me when I called it on the preparation. The chapter analysis would surely end up being extra credit to teach the ones who didn't do it a lesson, but Rosner liked me and I didn't want to disappoint him by not completing the assignment. So I quickly skimmed the chapters for a refresher and typed up the summary with my commentary before emailing it to Rosner's school inbox. He wouldn't have a problem with me sending it in early. Easy. Done.

The trigonometry homework, however, was another story. If I got started on the problems now, then I could finish it in Photography. I had done it before and came out clean. So, I made a deal with my future self. I would complete three of the ten problems tonight and she could finish the remaining seven tomorrow. There was no protest that I heard, so I took that as an agreement.

The three problems took me nearly half an hour, mostly due to a combination of my rumbling stomach and tired eyes. As soon as I got what I assumed was the answer to the last problem, I closed out the app for the homework, double checking to make sure everything was saved. Not really wanting to create a mess I would just have to clean up, I simply made a sandwich. I didn't even bother dirtying a plate. I ate it quickly while shutting down my computer and tablet and gathering the papers from the living room printer that was usually reserved for Dad's projects.

Working my way up the stairs, I debated on whether or not to take a shower. In all honesty, I didn't have the motivation. Turning on the water and getting into the tub sounded like so much effort. Ultimately, I decided to put up with it and get in the shower. I needed to have my confidence on max tomorrow and if my hair was just a bit greasy or if there was the slightest hint of odor, I would falter and lose any courage I had stored up.

I rushed through the shower. On any other night, I would have put on music, drowning out any other sound. Since that tended to lead to longer time spent shampooing my hair and singing horribly off key, I skipped the step and left my phone in my room.

Out and now wrapped in a towel, I only used the hair dryer for a minute or so, barely drying my scalp. I squeezed as much water out of the auburn strands and decided to be done with it. Dressed in an old, too-big t-shirt, I jumped between the covers, soaking up all the warmth I could find. My mind raced through every possible scenario that could face me tomorrow at school. Falling asleep was hard.

The next morning I woke up groggy and sore. Sitting up slowly, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, the tiny bits of crust that had formed in the night scratching slightly against my lids. As I stretched out my shoulders, the event that awaited me suddenly reentered my mind. It was like a shot of pure caffeine to my system. I hopped out of bed, running a brush through my rat's nest on my head as I got dressed.

Through the nerve-racking scenes my brain played for me as I tried to sleep, I made another decision. On top of making this partnered project work, I would also try to be Edward's friend. Though the rest of the student body avoided him or gossiped when he wasn't in earshot, I would be different. Take him by surprise and show him that some of us weren't so bad to know.

I wasn't as early getting downstairs as I was the previous day, but it didn't really matter. Both Mom and Dad were still in bed asleep, tired from their home renovation planning. As I waited for two slices of bread to crisp up in the toaster, I tapped my foot against the floor.

Despite my confidence from yesterday, the anxiety of today possibly backfiring on me began knocking. I had been so focused on the way I was going to approach Edward and the project that I hadn't considered how he might react.

Spreading on a thick coat of grape jelly, I scarfed down my pathetic breakfast. Footsteps from upstairs warned that at least one of my parents had woken up. I still needed time alone, so I grabbed my bag and headed off to school.

I went straight to English after finding a good parking spot instead of wasting time in my car like I usually did. Rosner wasn't in the classroom, but the lights were on and the door was unlocked so I figured there was no problem with me going inside. I sat at my desk and used the extra time for my trig homework.

"Well, this is unusual."

About two-thirds of the way through the problem, Rosner stood in front of me, fresh coffee in hand. Small wisps of steam floated up from his metal cup.

"It's not like you to put off homework, Sloane."

"I know." I tried not to crumble in embarrassment. "I kind of spent too much time on my Physics homework last night so I'm just trying to play catch up. I did email you the summary, though. Did you get it?" Perhaps he would ease up if he knew I at least got his assignment done.

Rosner nodded. "Yes, I read it last night. Although, I only needed a summary of the chapters. You didn't have to give an analysis of your thoughts as well."

Oh. Um. Oops?

I wanted to crawl under my desk. The only bright side was that other students weren't here to witness my excessiveness.

"Sorry," I murmured, staring down at the stylus in my hand. Isn't it just like me to misinterpret the homework and do too much?

"Don't fret over it. I'll give you a few extra points on it."

Like I needed it for this class. "Mr. Rosner, you don't–"

He held up a hand, stopping me. "Sloane, I wish more students would put in half of the effort you do in this class. It's the very least I can do."

I wasn't really sure what to say so I simply nodded. I didn't have the heart to tell him that this was the only class I pushed out extra effort in. It's not really an effort when you enjoy it. In trigonometry, I was skating by with a mid-B. History memorization came easy to me since it was almost like an extension of English and photography hardly counted as a real class.

Rosner walked back to his desk as students started filing in. I managed to finish up the problem and put it away before the bell rang.

Class passed virtually the same as it did the previous day. There was a short, three-question quiz and then the rest of the time was spent in discussion. I wasn't usually a clock watcher this early in the day, but today was different for so many reasons. It was like an itch right between my shoulder blades where I couldn't reach to scratch it.

After dismissal, I practically ran to Photography.

Miss Morales didn't care if we did other things during her hour, with only six of us making up the whole class. Since it was a small, advanced photography class, she trusted us to get the work in. Occasionally, she'd start the hour off with a quick lesson on a new way to sharpen or improve a picture, trying to get us to be creative, then she'd let us loose, but those were typically saved for a Monday.

As it was Tuesday, Miss Morales took attendance and then the four other students took off to do who-knows-what. Only Amber – a quiet girl who didn't really seem interested in anything – and I remained. Keeping to her routine, Amber pulled out her phone, put in her headphones and scrolled through whatever was on her screen. I was admittedly irrationally jealous that she was able to relax while I got to work on my stupid math homework. I didn't hate my past self as much as I thought I would, but there was still a little resentment. However, it helped pass the time better than searching through the dozens of pictures I've taken to find something to mess with.

"Sloane?" Miss Morales slid into the desk in front of me. She had them all arranged in squares of four to encourage people to share ideas and collaborate. She wasn't the kind of teacher that preferred formality. It was one of the reasons I took an interest in photography freshman year. She had an approach that gave room to grow and explore, rather than the "my way or nothing" mentality some art teachers held on to.

"Yeah?" I stopped my stylus, looking up at her.

"How's your project going?" she asked. So much for leaving me to my own devices.

"Good, I think," I answered honestly. She was only doing her job, I reminded myself. The assignment for the first half of the semester was supposed to be about something outside of school that really mattered to us. I was basing mine around my love of hiking and finding new places that weren't on a trail. It was lamely titled "Trail Less Traveled" because I couldn't come up with anything else. The guys were sometimes subjects as well, their copper skin and black hair beautifully contrasting against the green backdrop.

Miss Morales smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Do you need help with anything or are you struggling with ideas?"

Technically, yes. I did need a little help in the ideas department. There were only so many different angles you could take of trees. I had snapped myself into a corner. But I needed to get this homework done. "No, not right now, at least."

"Okay, just let me know if anything comes up." She stood up and walked over to Amber, tapping her fingers against the desk to get the girl's attention. My shoulders released their tension and I got back to work.

The next hour I walked into trig, relieved that not only did I finish the homework, but that I had had a little extra time to go over it and check my work. I didn't think I'd messed up anything too badly.

I passed the rest of my morning classes glancing at the clock every few minutes, which only made them pass slower. I tried to force my concentration away from the digital countdown, but I was too keyed up to be calm and give the teacher all my attention.

Finally, lunch came. French let out late, so Abby was waiting for me impatiently near the cafeteria. She kept eyeing me sideways, concerned – or maybe confused – about my bouncing attitude. Any rational person would be dreading the coming storm. We went through the line silently and joined others at our usual table. Not bothering to fight the urge, I found Edward sitting with his family. He was staring at nothing, not touching his food.

To avoid suspicion and annoying comments, I turned the stare into a passing glance, as if I were simply interested in the newest additions to the colorful posters around the room. The initial scene didn't feel enough, though. So I let myself steal glances rather than outright staring. They didn't move an inch, all five of them keeping that perfect statue-like quality.

"So, Sloane, are you ready for physics?" Lynn asked.

"Yeah, bring it on," I challenged, smirking at her.

Jackson looked at me like I was crazy. "I wouldn't be surprised if Edward just did everything himself. He doesn't really seem like a teamwork kind of guy."

My eyes had shifted back to the Masens and caught Edward's quick look in our direction before reverting back. Curious. As if he…

"Sloane won't let that happen," Abby defended, nudging to get my attention back to them.

"Definitely not," I agreed, only partially concentrating on what everyone was saying.

Jackson changed the subject, bored that I wasn't more involved with the discussion of my physics partner.

The end of the lunch hour came. I walked to the science building with a confidence I hadn't experienced before. Abby was by my side, concern evident in her eyes whenever she looked at me from their corners. After the bell rang, Mr. Shetler wasted no time in getting us started. He handed out packets to each of us that gave a more in depth explanation of the assignment and let us go for the hour. Before moving, I scanned the papers, double checking that my idea fit the parameters and my hard work the night before wasn't wasted.

Edward was still at his desk, though all the other students had gotten up and moved either to the floor or the lab tables in the back. He sat there, his hands folded up under his chin, his eyes closed. The muscles underneath his skin were tense, almost as if he relaxed even a little bit, he would fall apart. I walked over slowly and dropped my folder of ideas on the desk in front of him. His lids snapped open and glared at me as I turned the desk around to face him.

Once seated, I folded my own hands in front of me and effortlessly smiled at him. "Hi."

A single eyebrow went up.

So that would be the only response. It was hard to stay concentrated on the task at hand. Edward was – well – handsome. Very handsome; even more so up close. Where was the texture that every teenager was cursed with? His skin was smooth, like rock that had been trapped under water, eroding away until only perfection remained. No, he wasn't handsome. It felt beneath him, somehow. It didn't quite fit. He was more. I would have to be careful.

"So, I kind of had an idea," I started, pulling out the papers that explained the science of the movie.

I kept my eyes down, not wanting to worry about gauging his reaction. Or gawking. I faltered a couple of times, looking at him. While I elaborated on my idea, for good measure, I told Edward how I came up with all of it as well. As I spoke, he kept his eyes on the papers between us.

"So, what do you think?" I asked when I was done. His face was blank, possibly bored from my rambling. Reluctantly, he shifted his eyes up to me. The constant anger was gone. Frustration was still there, but now it was joined by its sister, confusion. I worried that I'd talked too fast and he didn't even know what I had been talking about.

I cleared my throat. "Unless you have something else you'd rather do?"

"No, this is fine," he replied slowly. His eyebrows furrowed further, like I was a sonnet from Shakespeare that he couldn't quite make the meaning out of.

"Okay," I nodded. "Um, if you want, I can do a majority of the essay? Writing's easier for me. Or we can just do everything together? It doesn't really matter to me."

He shrugged.

All right, I was not going to be the only one making the decisions here. Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on the desk, equally trying to be serious and laid back. Not an easy feat. "Okay, what are you thinking?"

The corner of his lips twitched. "What are you thinking?" he shot back, only his tone was a bit accusatory.

I sat back and slumped in my seat, debating. I could tell him about my curiosity or I could stick with the project. I decided with a combination of the two.

Tapping my index finger to my chin, I answered, "Well, I'm just wondering exactly how difficult you're going to make this and, honestly, why? It's just a school assignment; you're not bound to me forever."

Fingers still laced under his chin, Edward raised an insanely perfect eyebrow. "You're not worried about being paired up with the Mean Masen?"

I snorted. How cute of me. "No. And that's a horribly unimaginative nickname."

There was the twitch again. "I think they were aiming for alliteration."

"There are still better words that start with 'M' out there."

He tilted his head. "Such as?"

I looked at him, really looked at him for the first time this hour. Past the impossible perfection of his features to get to the message hidden in his dark eyes. Part of me was still stunned that we were having an in depth conversation. He was willingly talking to me. I knew I needed to tread softly here, in fear of losing any ground I was gaining. But one word stuck out among the many in my head to describe the ever present look on his face.

"Melancholy," I settled on.

If it upset him, my word choice, he didn't show it. Picking up two of the sheets, he examined them before passing them back to me.

"I think we can exclude these here," he suggested. "They aren't pertinent. Surplus information."

I tried not to smile too broadly. This was much easier than anticipated. I'd never been more excited about science.