Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs. Anything you recognize as not mine belongs to Stephenie Meyer and/or their otherwise respective owners.

Author's Notes: Hi, everyone! Sorry about the wait! But hey, it's not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Think I deserve brownie points for that.

I changed the chapter title because our lovely ladies don't have the same conversation they do in canon, understandably so. Circumstances are a little too different for that.

Next chapter, ~a month? Not sure.

Regardless, I hope you enjoy,

~TGWSI/Selene Borealis

~full moon~

~chapter 2: second chances~

The next day was better...and worse.

It was better because it wasn't raining yet when I headed off to school, although the clouds remained dense and opaque. It was easier because I knew what to expect from my day. Mike and Eric sat next to me in English, offering a nice reprieve with their conversation when Mr. Mason wasn't talking, and Mike walked me to my next class. People didn't look at me as much as they had yesterday. At lunch, I sat with a big group that included Mike, Eric, Jessica, and Angela, as well as a girl named Lauren and two more people I couldn't remember the names of. I began to feel like I was treading water, instead of drowning in it.

But it was worse because I was tired; for all my heritage, I couldn't sleep with the wind and rain echoing around the house. It was worse because in Trig Mr. Varner called on me when my hand wasn't raised and I didn't have the correct answer. It was miserable because today I couldn't get out of volleyball, and after Mike encouraged me to try anyways as his partner I wound up spiking him in the head.

And it was worse because Edythe Cullen wasn't in school at all.

The entire morning, I was dreading lunch, fearing her unjust hatred of me. If I was more confrontational than I was, I would've walked up to her and demanded to know what her problem was with me. While I was laying in my bed, sleepless, I even imagined what I would say. The words danced on my tongue, sharp and direct, everything I wasn't.

Yet when I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica, I glanced over to the table of her siblings and saw that only the four of them were there. She was entirely absent.

Mike intercepted us and led us over to the table I sat at with them. Jessica seemed elated by the attention, and Lauren and their other friend joined us. But as I listened to their easy chatter, I was terribly uncomfortable, waiting for her to arrive. I hoped that she was just late to lunch, and that when she came and in our shared class together she would simply ignore me, proving my anxiety wrong.

But she didn't come, and as time passed I grew more and more tense.

I walked into Biology with more confidence when, by the end of the lunch period, she still hadn't showed. Mike walked faithfully by my side to class, throwing his hands around as he talked and nearly hitting me in the face. It made me a bit glad to know my clumsiness wasn't wholly limited to myself here as it had been in Phoenix, although undoubtedly I was the worst by far. I held my breath at the door, but Edythe Cullen was not in the classroom. I exhaled and went to my seat. Mike stayed by my table until the bell rang and he was forced to go to his own.

I was relieved that I had the desk to myself and Edythe was absent. I told myself that repeatedly. But I had the sneaking suspicion that I was the reason why she wasn't here. It was stupid, and self-centered, to think I could affect anyone that strongly. It was impossible. And yet, I couldn't stop myself from worrying that it was true.

When the school day was finally over, and the mortification was fading from my mind at the volleyball incident after Mike only laughed and waved me off, I changed back into my jeans and navy blue sweater. I exited the girls' locker room and went out to the parking lot, which was now crowded with fleeing students. I got in my truck and dug through my bag, making sure I had what I needed.

To say Nonna was a good cook was an understatement. She was the one, actually, who had taught me how to cook, outside of me having to learn because if Nonna was good, then Renée was the opposite of that. But Nonna was also in her mid-eighties, and the reason why I had moved here was to watch over her, the same way Charlie had done. So I'd requested to take over most of the kitchen detail for the duration of my stay, and after some cajoling, she'd obliged. The house was low on food, however, so I needed to go to the grocery store. I had my shopping list and I had my money from the allowance Renée had decided to give me while I was here, so I was all set.

I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring how heads turned in my direction at the roar, and backed carefully into place in a line of cars waiting to leave the parking lot. As I waited, trying to pretend the earsplitting noise was from somebody else's car and not mine, I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo. Of course. I hadn't noticed their clothes before, too much else about them being noticeable, but now that I did, I saw they were all dressed remarkably well. They wore designer clothes which stood out in this small town of Forks, just like the rest of them. It seemed wealth and good looks couldn't buy everything, such as acceptance. For this, I felt bad for them.

They looked at my noisy truck as I passed them, just like everyone else. I briefly looked at their expressions before I focused my eyes back forwards: the Hale twins and Emmett Cullen looked decidedly indifferent, but the pixie girl, Alice...there was something decidedly in her eyes. An emotion I couldn't quite place.

I was relieved once I was finally free of the school grounds. I went to the Thriftway, which was unsurprisingly not far from the school, just a few streets south. It was nice to be inside the supermarket; it felt natural. Like cooking, I did all the shopping in Arizona, and I fell into the familiar pattern gladly. The store was big enough that I couldn't hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me where I was.

"Ciao, bambina," Nonna said when I got home. "Com'era la scuola?"

She'd been concerned when I had come back yesterday, still with tears in my eyes. I had tried to convince her there hadn't been anything wrong, but I was never a good liar. She hadn't believed me, although she hadn't pressed for details.

"Bene," I said, letting out a short puff of air.

"Here, let me help you."

"It's fine, Nonna. I've got it."

"Nonsense. I can help."

Knowing better than to fight her on this, we unloaded the groceries together. I worked on preparing dinner as she went back into the living room, picking up her latest Danielle Steel novel to read. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven, covered two chicken breasts in marinade and balanced them on top of the egg carton in the fridge.

When I was done with that, I went into the living room myself. I moved to sit down, but Nonna gave me a knowing look over her reading glasses. "Have you contacted Renée yet?" she asked me.

Oh. I'd completely forgotten to do that.

"No. Grazie, Nonna."

"Prego."

I went upstairs to my room with my bag and turned on the ancient computer. As it made a sound akin to an airplane taking off, I changed into a pair of dry-sweats, and put my damp hair into a ponytail. I assured myself of what I had to do tonight for homework until I was finally able to log into the computer and check my email. I had three messages. Bella, my mom wrote.

Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. How is your grandmother? Is it raining? I miss you already. I'm almost finished packing for Florida, but I can't find my pink blouse. Do you know where I put it? Phil says hi, by the way. Mom.

I sighed and went to the next message, sent eight hours after the first.

Bella, why haven't you emailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Mom.

The last one was from this morning.

Isabella Marie Swan, if I haven't heard from you by 5:30 PM today I'm calling Elena.

...That would probably not go over well, to say the least. I checked the clock. I still had an hour, but my mom was known for jumping the gun.

Mom,

Calm down, I'm writing right now. Don't do anything rash.

Bella

I sent that message and began again.

Mom,

I'm settling in alright. Of course it's raining. I was waiting for something to write about. School is fine, if not a little repetitive. I think I've made some friends. Sam and Emily stopped by for dinner the night I got here. Levi is getting so big! He looks a lot like Sam, but I think I see some of Aunt Allison in him, too. I know she would've liked to meet him.

Your blouse is at the dry cleaners, you were supposed to pick it up yesterday.

Nonna bought me a truck. Can you believe it? It's amazing. It's really old, but sturdy, and you know that's good for me.

I miss you, too. I'll write again soon, but I'm not going to check my email every five minutes. Relax. Breathe. I love you.

Bella

I started to reread Wuthering Heights – it was the current book in English so I decided it technically counted as homework, even if I knew it like the back of my hand – until I figured it was probably about time for dinner. Then I went downstairs to get it ready. At the table, Nonna and I talked about this and that. I thought about broaching the topic of the Cullens with her, but I didn't know what she would know about them, so I didn't. She wasn't Charlie, after all, and though I knew she had her friends and went to different places during the day often enough, I didn't think her path often crossed with theirs.

That night, it was finally quiet. I fell asleep quickly, exhausted. I didn't dream once.

The next week was uneventful.

It was easy for me to fall into the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, most of the students in the school. In Gym, Mike as well as the rest of the students learned to not let me play as much as they could, lest they wanted to wind up with injuries and/or bruises. I happily let them, and only participated when I had to.

Edythe Cullen didn't come back to school.

Every day, I waited anxiously until the rest of her siblings came into the cafeteria without her. Once satisfied, I relaxed and joined in the lunchtime conversation. Mike and the others were talking about making a trip to La Push, and I agreed to go. It was an excuse to go see my family without having to go of my own accord and by myself, something I was thankful for. It wasn't anything against my relatives, of course, it was just...La Push was hard for me to go to. I'd been really close to Aunt Allison, before she'd died. I couldn't ever stand on the pebble beach, with its cold and almost freezing wind, without thinking of her and how we'd once skipped rocks together. And that wasn't mentioning everything else.

By Friday, I was perfectly comfortable entering Biology, confident Edythe would not be there. For all I knew, she had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about her, but I couldn't refrain from wondering still if I was the reason why she had left, as ridiculous as it seemed.

My first weekend passed without incident. Nonna and I went to the diner together for lunch on Saturday, which had been Charlie's favorite restaurant. The waitress there and one of his friends there fawned over me, which I felt uncomfortable with, but allowed. I did drive to the library after I'd taken Nonna back home, but it was small and ill-stocked. If I wanted something actually worthwhile, I was going to have to go to Olympia...maybe even Seattle. I tried not to cringe at the thought, as I knew the gas mileage on the truck couldn't be anything decent.

The rain stayed soft over the weekend, so I was able to sleep well.

People greeted me in the parking lot on Monday. I smiled and waved at them, calling out to the ones I knew the names of. It was colder this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Mike and Eric resumed their places next to me. We had a pop quiz over Wuthering Heights, but for me it was straightforward and very easy. For Mike, not so much, judging by how he complained about it afterwards. I made myself a mental reminder to possibly ask him about studying if he got a bad grade on it.

I was starting to feel comfortable here, more comfortable than I'd ever imagined I would.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting in excitement. The wind bit at my cheeks and nose.

"Wow," Mike said. "It's snowing."

So it was.

"Ew." Snow. There went my good day.

He gave me an amused look. "Don't you like the snow?"

"Snow means it's too cold to rain," I explained. "But then it'll melt, and it'll make everywhere even damper than before."

"You've never seen it snow before?" he asked incredulously.

"I lived in Arizona," I shot back. I felt comfortable with him enough to give him a bit of sarcasm. He had a good sense of humor. "Besides, aren't they supposed to look unique or something? These all look like Q-tips."

Mike laughed.

Abruptly, a big, squishy ball of snow and slush hit him in the back of his head. We both turned to see where it had come from. There was a boy walking away suspiciously; I thought his name was Tyler. Mike seemed to have the same idea. He bent over and began to scoop together a pile of the white mush.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" I told him. I didn't stop walking. "Once people start throwing wet stuff, I go inside."

He nodded, his eyes not leaving Tyler's retreating figure once.

Throughout the morning, everyone chattered excitedly. Apparently, it was the first snowfall of the new year. I kept my mouth shut, and took to holding one of my binders close to my chest instead of putting it in my bag. If things got ugly when I was around, at least I would have some sort of a shield. Jessica thought I was hilarious, but something in my expression must've made her think better than to lob a snowball at me herself.

Mike caught up to us as we walked through the doors of the cafeteria, laughing as he shook the snow out of his hair with a hand. He and Jessica were excitedly talking about all of the snowball fights that had happened so far as we got in line to buy food. I glanced towards the table in the corner out of habit, only to freeze where I stood.

There were five people at the table.

Jessica pulled at my arm. "Hello? Bella? What do you want?"

I looked down; my ears were hot. I had no reason to feel like this, I tried reminding myself. I wasn't the one who had done anything wrong.

"What's with Bella?" Mike asked Jessica.

"Uh – nothing," I managed to say to both of their questions. "I'm just feeling a little – sick. I'll just get a soda today."

"Do you need to go to the nurse's office?" Mike prodded worriedly.

I shook my head. "Just – queasy. That's all."

I waited for them to get their food, then followed them to the table, my eyes on my feet.

My stomach was churning as I sipped at my soda, I hadn't been lying about that. Mike pestered me twice more on if I was really feeling alright, if I wasn't coming down with something. I told him I was, and I wasn't.

Idly, I wondered, if I should play it up. Just to get out of going to Biology.

Ridiculous, I thought. I shouldn't have to run away.

I decided to permit myself one glance at the Cullen family's table. If Edythe was glaring at me, I wouldn't go to class. I would skip Biology, like the coward I was.

I kept my head down, looking up through my lashes. None of them were looking this way. I lifted my head a little.

They were laughing. Edythe, Emmett, and Jasper all had their hair entirely saturated with snow, hers pulled into a loose braid for the day. Alice and Rosalie were leaning away as Emmett shook his head towards them. They were enjoying the day, just like everyone else except for me. It seemed even among the outcasts, I was a stranger in this regard.

Aside from the laughter and playfulness, however, there was something different about Edythe. I couldn't decide what it was. Her skin wasn't as pale, probably from the flush of their snow fight, and the bags underneath her eyes were less noticeable. But that wasn't it. There was something more. I tried to figure out what it was.

"Bella, what are you staring at?" Jessica questioned.

Edythe's eyes suddenly flashed over to us.

I lowered my head, allowing my hair to conceal my face, shame coursing through me. I'd been caught. But I didn't think, from the quick second our eyes met, that she seemed as harsh and or unfriendly as the last time I had seen her.

"Edythe Cullen is staring at you," Mike informed me unhelpfully.

"He doesn't look angry, does she?"

"No," said Jessica. "Why, should she be?"

"I don't think she likes me," I confided to each of them, pressing a hand to my temple. I felt like I had a headache coming on.

Jessica patted my shoulder. "The Cullens don't like anybody, don't take it personally. But she's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at him," I hissed.

Mike and Jessica snickered, but did as I'd told them.

The rest of the period, my mind was whirring at a dizzying speed. Why had Edythe come back? It wasn't that I wanted her to be denied an education, of course I didn't, but I didn't want to be on the receiving end of her anger again, either, even if she didn't seem angry at me now...

Since she didn't, I decided, I would go to Biology. I would honor the bargain I'd made with myself. If she was angry, then I would fake an illness and somehow convince the nurse to let me go home for the rest of the day.

I didn't really want to walk with Mike like usual, since he seemed to be a popular target for the snowball snipers. But when we went to the door, everyone else besides me groaned in unison. It was raining, washing all the remnants of the snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the sidewalk. I hid a smile, as strained as it was. Mike had been talking with Eric and the other boy at our table about a snowball fight after school, but now I would be free to go home straightaway instead of having to wait in my struck for said fight to be over.

Once inside the classroom, I saw with a light sigh that my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and a box of slides to each table. Mike, sensing my discomfort, stuck to talking to the girl at his own table for the day, and the classroom was abuzz with conversation since the period didn't start for a few minutes yet. I refrained from looking at the door, keeping my eyes on my paper as I drew a flower as a doodle on the cover of my notebook.

"Hello," said a musical, lilting voice softly.

My neck snapped up. I was shocked that she was even speaking to me. She was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but her chair was facing me. Her hair was dripping wet, at least at the top of her head. The hair in her braid seemed mostly salvaged. Her beautiful face, and now I wanted to say it looked like Helen of Troy's, was friendly, open. There was an easy smile on her lips. But her eyes were careful.

"My name is Edythe Cullen," she spoke. Her voice had a strange quality to it. She almost sounded...old-fashioned, like the kind of person you would hear on a movie from the '40s or '50s, if not older than that. I thought that meant she'd probably gone to a fancy private school before she and her family had come here, possibly one of the most expensive in the entire country. Judging by their clothes and cars, they certainly could afford it. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan."

I was confused. Why was she so suddenly acting nice to me, a complete 180 from before? Had I imagined the entire thing? I had to speak; she was waiting for me. But I couldn't think of anything to say.

"How do you know my name?" I stuttered out.

She let out a quiet, enchanting laugh.

"Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town has been waiting for you to arrive."

"No," I replied. "Why did you call me Bella?"

Her eyebrows, perfect and arched and far better than mine, knitted together slightly. "Do you prefer Isabella?"

"No, I prefer Bella," I said. "But everyone here has called me Isabella until I've corrected them."

"Oh." She let it drop.

Awkwardly, I looked away.

Before I could make any further of a fool of myself, the bell rang and Mr. Banner started class. He began to explain the lab we would be doing today. Apparently, the slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners and without our books, we would be arranging the slides of onion root tips into the order of mitosis. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had gotten it right.

This was both a blessing and a curse. I had done this lab before, albeit not with onion root. But this meant the work would not have been as distracting from the obvious as it could've been.

"Would you like to go first?" Edythe questioned me. She was giving me a crooked smile now, so beautiful all I could do was stare at her like an idiot. It quickly vanished. "Or I could go first, if you'd prefer."

My face felt like it was on fire. "No," I said. "I'll go first."

I decided to show off, just a little. I only needed a brief glance at the slide to decipher what it was. "Prophase."

"Do you mind if I check?" she asked as I began to move the slide. Her hand brushed up against mine briefly to stop me. Her fingers were freezing, as if she was the same temperature as the snow which had just been outside.

But that wasn't why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When hers touched mine, a current of electricity passed through us. That was what it felt like, at least. It was certainly stronger than static electricity.

"My apologies," Edythe murmured. She pulled her hand back immediately, but continued to reach for the slide all the same. I watched as she studied the slide for an even shorter time than I had. "Prophase."

She wrote in the answer on the first space of our worksheet. Her handwriting was neat, elegant. I couldn't help but notice at the top of the page that the way she spelled her name was "Edythe." I'd assumed that was the way it was spelled, even though I didn't know why. "Edith" was the much more common variant. Perhaps because the other version would've been just too out of place in the modern world; with this spelling, she didn't seem as anachronistic.

"Anaphase," she spoke as she analyzed the second slide.

My hand twitched. "Can I?"

She smirked and pushed the microscope over to me.

"Anaphase," I confirmed. Dang. She'd been right. I held out my hand without looking. "Slide three?"

She handed it to me; this time, she seemed to take care in making sure our hands didn't touch.

I took the most fleeting look I could manage.

"Interphase." I passed her the microscope before she could ask for it. She took a swift glance, then wrote the answer down on the paper. I would have written it while she'd looked, but my scrawl was much clumsier than hers. I didn't want to blemish the paper when her script was so comparably perfect.

We finished before everyone else. I saw Mike and his partner comparing two of the slides again and again, and another group not-so-subtly had their books out underneath the table.

I tried not to look at Edythe again, but I was miserably unsuccessful. She was staring back at me, the inexplicable frustration returning to her eyes. Suddenly, I knew what the subtle difference in her face was.

"Did you get contacts?" I blurted out.

She seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. "No."

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes."

She shrugged. "It must be the fluorescents."

Then she looked away.

But no, it wasn't that. I was sure of it. I vividly remembered the harsh black of her eyes the last time we had seen each other, last week. Yet now they were a completely different color, like butterscotch, but slightly darker in color. Without her wearing contacts, unless she was lying about that, I didn't understand how it could be. Or maybe Forks was starting to make me crazy in the literal sense of the word.

I looked back down at my notebook, and saw out of the corner of my eye her hands were clenched into fists again.

"Edythe, you gave Isabella a chance with the microscope, didn't you?" Mr. Banner asked, approaching our table. He'd undoubtedly come to see why we weren't working anymore.

"Bella," Edythe corrected automatically. "And yes, I did. She identified three out of the five, actually."

"Really?" Mr. Banner focused on me. He was skeptical. "Have you done this lab before?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Not with onion root."

"Whitefish blastula?"

"Yes."

"Were you in an advanced program in Phoenix?"

"I was."

Now he was resigned. "Well," he said. "I guess it's good you two are lab partners." He walked away.

I thought I heard Edythe cover up a laugh, but I firmly went back to doodling on my notebook. I thought our niceties were over.

But then, she asked me, "It's dreadful about the snow, isn't it?"

Paranoia swept through me. It was like she'd heard me talking with Jessica during lunch and was trying to prove me wrong. But that couldn't be possible.

"Not really," I answered honestly. I couldn't concentrate on lying when I was still dealing with my suspicion.

"You don't like the cold," she stated.

"Or the wet."

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live, then."

"You have no idea," I muttered darkly.

When I went to make eye contact with her, I saw she appeared to be utterly fascinated by what I was saying. But I kept myself from gazing at her for too long, no more than what common courtesy absolutely demanded.

"Why did you come here, then?"

I huffed, annoyed. "Don't you already know? Or can't you at least make a guess?"

She wasn't offended by my abrupt change of tone. "To take care of your grandmother, after your father's death?"

"Yes."

A pause.

"I'm sorry for your loss, by the way," she offered.

My grief made me snappish. "What do you know about it?" Too late, I realized what I'd said. It felt like my entire body flushed. "Oh, I'm so – "

"It's alright," she assured me. "I know what it's like. I lost my parents at a young age, too. It's why Carine took me in."

That made me feel even worse.

She decided to divert the subject. "Were you close with him?"

My throat tightened. "Very much." I couldn't look at her or anyone else as I talked about Charlie, so my eyes were placed firmly back on my notebook. "My mother is my best friend, but Charlie was...he was like me. He understood me without having to try. Does that make sense?"

I didn't know why I was divulging this to her.

Edythe had the visage of an avid listener. "I think so. Were you sad to leave your mother?"

I hesitated. "...Mostly worried," I decided on saying. "Renée isn't exactly good at taking care of herself. But she has Phil now."

"Your stepfather?"

"Yeah. He's nice. Maybe too young, but he's good for her. He's a baseball player, so she'll get to travel a lot with him around."

She smiled. "Have I heard of him?"

"No, he's strictly minor league. He doesn't play well."

This earned me another laugh. But then her gaze turned more appraising. "Taking care of your grandmother is very honorable," she said. "But you don't like living here. You're unhappy, aren't you?"

"And?" I challenged.

"It just doesn't seem fair."

"Nothing about what happened is fair," I returned, a little harshly. I took in a deep breath to steady myself. "Life isn't fair, in general. But sometimes, you have to make do with what you have. And what I have is...not a father – " it didn't escape my notice Edythe seemed rather amused by my dark joke " – but my grandmother, and my family in La Push."

Her eyebrows raised. "You're half-Quileute?"

"Yes." Why was this so surprising to her? "You didn't know that? It seems like everyone here knows everything about me." It was like I was an open book.

Her eyes darted away. "No."

It went without saying our conversation was over, for whatever reason. I wasn't sure why. She didn't seem to me to be a racist, but...

Mr. Banner soon called the class to order, and I was relieved to listen. It was better than thinking about my bizarre conversation with the enigmatic, beautiful girl next to me. I could see from the corner of my eye she was leaning further away from me again, her hands gripping the table with unmistakable tension.

When the bell finally rang, Edythe rushed as swiftly and gracefully from the room as she had last Monday. Like then, too, I stared after her in amazement.

Mike skipped over to me cheerfully. "It looks like Edythe wasn't as awful to you today," he said. "Maybe she doesn't hate you, after all."

I nearly groaned. "Thank you, Mike. How did your lab go?"

He was still somehow cheerful as he responded with, "Terrible. They all looked exactly the same. But it's alright, I have a good grade in the class. I can afford a bad grade or two."

Maybe I should ask him if he wanted to study with me for this class, too.

I couldn't concentrate on his chatter as we walked to the gym, or on the events of the actual class. Mike was on my team today. He bravely covered my position as well as my own, so my woolgathering was only interrupted when I had to serve; my team hurriedly ducked out of my way each time I was in the spot.

The rain was a horrible mist when I got to the parking lot, but I was dry in the comfort of my cab. I started the heater to warm myself up, even while unzipping my jacket and putting down its hood so I could fluff my damp hair to dry out on my way home.

I looked around to make sure I was in the clear to back up. That was when I saw the still, white figure, as perfect as a Greco-Roman statue. Edythe Cullen was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me. She was staring intently in my direction. My face contorting, I promptly backed up, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla that had seen much better days. Lucky for the Toyota, I stopped just in the nick of time, earning myself a honk. The car was the kind mine would make scrap metal out of. I took a deep breath and tried pulling out a second time, with much more success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but in my peripheral, like Alice's strange expression, I could've sworn I saw Edythe laughing.

Word Count: 5,562

Next Chapter Title: phenomenon