XXXIV. The Red Juice is not for Everyone

We were exiting the cafeteria, when Edward said, "I'm not going to biology today."

At my pointed look, he shrugged. "It's healthy to ditch class now and then."

The sudden déjà vu I was struck with caused me to stumble to a halt. His gentle grip on my arm kept me upright.

"Isabella?"

"Oh." I blinked, when the realization hit me. "We're blood typing in biology."

Edward quirked an eyebrow. "Your gift now reveals surprise classroom activities?"

I shook my head and muttered, "Just the relevant ones."

He pulled me aside, so that we would no longer block the walkway, and asked quietly, "Are you alright? You appear troubled."

I pursed my lips. "It's just…this past month-and-a-half not much was meant to happen, according to what I knew walking in. And then, I went off script."

Edward tilted his head. "And now?"

"I guess…we're back on script?" I smiled nervously. "Blood typing in biology, First Beach on Saturday, and…sunny on Monday?"

"Yes, the sun will be making an appearance on Monday, as well as Tuesday," he confirmed.

I frowned. I was missing something. Or someone?

"Well, I guess it can't be helped," I shrugged, shoving aside my worrying thoughts for later. "I'll see you after school?"

"I'll meet you by the gym," he assured me, brushing a brief kiss against my hairline, before turning and striding off.

By now, the walkways were nearly empty, and so I hurried off to class. But it was for nothing. Mr. Banner wasn't even inside by the time I arrived.

I settled at my lab table with a small huff, dumping my backpack on Edward's empty side and scooting my stool in.

Mr. Banner came into the room then, a couple of cardboard boxes balanced in his arms. Dropping them at Mike's table, he asked him to start passing the items out.

"Okay, guys, I want you all to take one piece from each box," he said as he snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. "The first should be an indicator card." He held up a white card marked with four squares. "The second is a four-pronged applicator," he continued, lifting something that looked like a hair pick. "And the third is a sterile micro-lancet." He then showed us a small piece of blue plastic and split it open.

"I'll be coming around with a dropper of water to prepare your cards, so please don't start until I get to you."

He began at Mike's table, putting a drop of water in each of the four squares. "I want you to carefully prick your finger with the lancet." He grabbed Mike's hand and jabbed the spike into the tip of his middle finger.

"Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs." He demonstrated, squeezing Mike's finger until blood flowed. "And then apply it to the card," he finished, holding up the dripping red card for us to see.

"The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I thought you should all know your blood type. Those of you who aren't eighteen yet will need a parent's permission―I have slips at my desk."

That's when the smell hit me.

A metallic scent invaded my nostrils, causing my stomach to flip, nausea trembling down the back of my throat.

Around me, my classmates began to skewer their fingers and the sharp smell multiplied in intensity.

"Isabella, are you all right?" Mr. Banner said. It was then that I realized my head had slumped against the cool tabletop.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," I cried.

Alarmed, he called, "Can someone take Isabella to the nurse, please?" And then, he asked me, "Can you walk?"

"I think so," I mumbled.

Next thing I knew, Mike was dragging me to my feet, shouldering my right arm and wrapping his own arm around my torso.

Dizzy with nausea, I stumbled after him out of the classroom and outside the building. Fortunately, it wasn't raining outside, but the fresh air did wonders for the queasiness in my stomach.

We had just rounded the cafeteria, when I stopped cooperating. "Just stop for a sec." I grimaced. "The movement is making it worse."

"You're not going to puke on me, are you?" Mike complained.

"I might."

At my admission, Mike hurriedly sat me down at the edge of the sidewalk. "Just take it easy," he suggested nervously, sitting beside me. "You're really green."

I slumped against his arm. "Don't remind me," I cried.

"Isabella?" I suddenly heard Edward call from a distance, voice upset. "What's wrong? Is she hurt?"

"I don't know! She didn't even prick her finger!"

I felt Edward sitting on my other side, gently pulling me off of Mike. "Can you hear me, love?"

"I'm alive," I assured him, the words muffled against the shoulder of his leather jacket.

"I was taking her to the nurse," Mike explained. "But she was on the verge of throwing up."

"Thank you, Mike. I'll take her," Edward said. "You can go back to class."

"Alright, man. Hope you feel better, Isabella."

"Thanks," I mumbled, ears still ringing.

As soon as I heard Mike's footsteps fade away, Edward asked, "You faint at the sight of blood?" Despite the concern in his voice, I didn't miss the hint of amusement.

"No," I explained slowly, breathing in his lovely scent with the hope of quelling the nausea. "It's this body. I forgot―it can easily smell blood. It made me sick."

"People can't smell blood," he said, sounding bewildered.

"Would you believe me if I puked on your shoes?" I snarked.

"No need," he chuckled, and then pulled me closer, hooking an arm under my knees and lifting me up as he stood.

"What are you doing?" I moaned, and then pressed my lips tightly together when the rocking caused my stomach to roil. Contrary to what I'd said, I didn't actually want to vomit on Edward.

"Doing as I said I would," he reminded me, cradling me gently in his arms. "We'll have the nurse look you over, and then I'll convince Mrs. Cope to let you go home early."

I nodded against his chest to show my agreement, my mouth still clamped shut. Fortunately, Edward was gentle with his movements and I was able to avoid disaster.

As soon as we entered the office, I heard Mrs. Cope gasp at the sight of me.

"She fainted in biology," Edward explained.

I peeked and saw Mrs. Cope run ahead to open the nurse's door. Edward strode in and carefully set me down along the crackly paper covering the brown vinyl mattress on the cot.

"She fainted," he explained to the startled nurse. "They're blood typing in Biology."

"There's always one," the old nurse sighed, and then turned to me. "Just lie down for a minute, honey. It'll pass."

I didn't answer, focusing on taking deep, shaky breaths.

"I'm going to speak with Mrs. Cope," Edward told me, before slipping back out of the narrow room.

Once he disappeared, the nurse said, "I'll go get you some ice for your forehead, dear."

She bustled out of the room and I closed my eyes, relieved to have a moment alone.

Confident that I wouldn't immediately puke, I breathed deeply through my nose, urging my stomach to settle and the spinning to subside. Slowly, but surely, it worked, and my head cleared up enough for me to berate myself. What's the point of foreknowledge if I'm just gonna do the same dumb shit as the main character?

By the time the nurse returned, I was feeling relatively normal, if a little exasperated with myself.

"Here you go, dear," she said, placing the ice pack against my forehead. "You're looking better," she added.

"I think I'm fine now," I said, slowly sitting up and returning the compress. "But thank you."

I was exiting the nurse's station, just as Mike burst into the front office, half-dragging Lee Stephens inside. I stepped aside, joining Edward by the counter.

"Mrs. Cope said we're good to go," he grinned, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and leading me back out.

"That's a relief," I sighed. "I'm not sure I would've made it through gym feeling like this. Thank you."

"It's my pleasure."

We walked to his car in companionable silence. Mist had begun to settle and the cold felt cleansing against my sweaty skin.

"You know," he said, as he opened the passenger door on my behalf, "I am confused about one thing."

"What's that?" I asked, leaning my forearm against the roof of his car.

"Did you not foresee any of this?"

I smiled sheepishly. "I did. But I was never able to smell the scent of blood before. I didn't imagine I could suddenly do it now, but hindsight is twenty-twenty."

Edward hummed in thought and gestured for me to climb inside once it started raining.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, he mentioned, "The story you follow is sometimes very strange."

I blinked. "…Story?"

"Yes. I noticed your gift of knowledge is like a story," he explained, shooting me a curious look from his peripherals. "One we can choose to follow or not, as long as we're aware of what's written in it. Am I wrong?"

"No," I smiled. "You're closer to the mark than you think."

"How so?" he asked, turning into the highway.

My smile dimmed.

"…You're not ready to explain?"

"No, not really," I admitted. Did I really want to confess that we were all just a bunch of storybook characters? No. At least, not yet. So I changed the subject, "Does Esme know we're coming home early?"

Edward allowed the switch in topic without protest. "Yes, I already called her. She's extremely worried about you."

I shot him an accusing glare. "You told her I actually fainted."

"You just about did," he snickered.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm glad you find my pain so amusing."

Edward shrugged, unrepentant. "It's easier than dwelling on the fact that I nearly murdered Newton."

"Why? Because you thought he was dragging my dead body off to bury it in the woods?" I snorted.

"It's like you stole the words right out of my mouth. Literally."

"Sorry, bad habit," I laughed.

"In the decades that I've known her, Alice has never once apologized for it," Edward reassured me with a wink.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time."

Finally, we turned into the unpaved road that would lead to his house. It was as we broke the treeline and reached the driveway, that I realized, "Shoot! I forgot my backpack!"

"Don't concern yourself," Edward said, parking the car and vanishing from the driver's seat. Once he reappeared at my door and opened it, he assured me, "Alice will pick it up once classes end."

I took his hand and climbed out, wearing an expression of disbelief. "In a room full of bleeding teenagers?"

He shrugged. "She'll figure out how to best approach it. Alice would never jeopardize our way of life."

"Alright," I agreed reluctantly, feeling a bit guilty, as I was sure it wouldn't be a comfortable situation for her.

We were met by Esme at the front door.

"Isabella!" she gasped, pulling me into a gentle embrace and then stepping back to look me over. "You're so pale. Come and take a seat," she urged, leading me into their vast living room.

"Edward was exaggerating," I assured her, but followed her regardless. "I didn't totally faint. I was just a bit sick."

Esme looked towards me with disbelief as I settled on the couch. "None of that, sweetheart. I'm heating up soup for you right now. Edward, bring her some medicine, would you?"

"On it." He disappeared in a blur, returning at a slower, human gait with a glass of water balanced in one hand.

Esme brushed back the hair that had stuck to my face and said, "I'll go prepare you a bowl of soup. Rest up for now."

"Thank you, Esme," I said, knowing there would be no swaying her.

"Anytime, lovely girl," she smiled sweetly and swept gracefully out of the room.

Edward sat beside me and pressed the glass of water between my hands, and then turned to open the bottle of pills, before handing me one.

"It's for motion sickness," he explained. "It should help settle your stomach."

"You guys just happened to have motion sickness pills?" I asked and popped the pill into my mouth, swallowing it dry.

Edward arched an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead, he explained, "Esme was upset she didn't have any type of painkillers to offer you after the battle that broke out with the nomads. We stocked up after that."

"Oh. Thank you," I smiled, warm emotions stirring in my chest.

Esme returned then, balancing a tray of food in her arms, which she placed gently on the coffee table.

"If you need anything else, let me know, sweetheart. I'll be in my study," Esme said and pressed a kiss against the top of my head.

"Okay. I appreciate it," I smiled.

She vanished and Edward lifted the bowl of chicken soup to my lap, exchanging it for the glass of water.

"Hmm," I hummed, after I took a warm spoonful and swallowed. "She followed my recipe."

Edward wrinkled his nose.

"Don't make that face," I laughed and took another sip.

"I apologize, but…it smells repulsive," he admitted.

I rolled my eyes. "Obviously it would for you, Count Dorkula."

"Touché," he grumbled.

I swallowed another mouthful, and asked, "You're free to practice today?" After I'd taken a break on Monday, Edward and I had gotten back into the swing of things―literally. I'd become better at the dance he'd been teaching me (when he wasn't assisting Emmett with his little project.) Today and tomorrow would be my last days to practice, seeing as I'd be gone on Saturday.

"I am," he said. "In fact, we can start as soon as you're done eating."

I huffed. "Alright, fine. Pass me the bread."

"Don't worry. Take your time," he smirked, doing as requested.

I bit into Esme's homemade bread with a sigh of contentment.

I was nearly done with my late lunch, when Carlisle swept down the winding staircase, appearing ready to head off to work. "Isabella," he called, veering in our direction. "I hope you're feeling better?"

"Hey, doc," I smiled. "Yeah, I'm perfectly fine."

"Excellent," he beamed, and then softened his face into something contrite. "And Isabella? In regards to your past, I wanted to say―"

"Carlisle, I know you have questions, but right now you have guests," I reminded him gently. Although I hadn't seen them, I knew they were probably hanging about somewhere on their property. And while I was now growing comfortable with the idea that the Cullens knew my truth, I wasn't sure I was ready to be so unpleasantly honest with the rest of their family.

"Oh, well yes, I do have questions. But I was actually going to apologize," he admitted. "We haven't seen much of each other lately, so I know it's a tad late. But I'm sorry, Isabella, if my reaction to your past made you feel amiss. It was never my intention to hurt you."

I blinked, taking a moment to process his words. Jasper's revelation that Carlisle easily moved past my confession had been reassuring enough for me. So, I'd completely forgotten about his initial reaction. "It's okay, Carlisle," I said. "I'm sorry I had to go and make it all sound as dramatic and as upsetting as possible. I don't hold anything against you."

"That's relieving to know," he said, expression relaxing. "And whenever you're ready to indulge my curiosity, let me know."

"I will," I snorted.

"Right, well I have to head off. Please try not to break anything while I'm at work."

"We'll be good," Edward promised. "But I don't speak for any of my siblings. Or our cousins."

"I suppose I'll take what I can get," Carlisle muttered and strode back towards the entrance.

I snickered and exchanged an amused glance with Edward.

"It's a wonder we haven't attracted any attention with over a dozen of us in the house."

Edward's words struck a chord in me. "Oh, that's what I was forgetting," I recalled, with a snap of my fingers. "Peter and Charlotte."

"Peter and Charlotte?" Edward repeated with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Jasper's family. What about them?"

"…They're visiting. You didn't know?" I asked. "I think they were supposed to arrive on Monday, but Alice mentioned someone might be crashing the wedding, so I guess they might arrive by Sunday night."

Whatever amusement had colored his expression before, instantly vanished from his face.

"…I just got Alice in trouble, didn't I?"

"Yes," he murmured darkly, eyes straying towards the front door. "And just in time for her to arrive."

I glared at the vibrating phone shaking my nightstand.

I'd been ready to go to sleep, but a glance at the caller ID revealed that the night insisted on adding a little more drama to my life. As if dealing with Edward and Alice arguing hadn't been enough for one day.

I flipped open the phone and said, "Serena, I am trying to sleep."

"This early?" she laughed, though it came across slightly shaky. "You're such a kid."

"I guess. What's wrong? You sound a little off."

"Oh, the pain meds haven't completely kicked in yet," she confessed. "Angelo finally came back."

I sat up. "…He hurt you."

"It's just a sprained wrist. It'll heal right up! Angelo tends to forget his own strength, especially if I haven't seen him in a while," she said, sounding slightly defensive.

"Okay…" What was I supposed to say to her? Even if it was an accident just like she'd said, she didn't appear eager to walk away from such a dangerous relationship. "I hope you'll feel better soon."

"Thank you," Serena said. "I'm sorry if I woke you up. I'll try not to call so late, next time."

I was still feeling concerned enough that I didn't bother rebuffing her efforts to be my friend. "Alright. Take care of yourself."

"I will! Goodnight, Isabella."

The line went dead.

I flipped my phone close and frowned down at it, unable to completely shake off my worry. I imagined, Serena's relationship with Angelo is what Twilight could've been, if it had taken a darker turn.

I swallowed down my sleeping pill and settled into bed, trying not to dwell too deeply on those morbid thoughts.

A/N: You know, I was excited to rewrite the blood typing scene, because it was my favorite Twilight scene as a kid. But wow. Rereading it made me realize what an asshat Edward was, dragging Bella around the parking lot and being a sarcastic little shit.

But I hope y'all enjoyed my rendition! Next chapter will be the fun scene y'all voted for! :)