I got to school late, a little over an half hour late. The lot was already full and pulled into the only open spot.
The rain was coming down as a light mist that made my clothes stick to me uncomfortably.
Getting out, I fumbled with my key and it fell into a puddle by my feet. As I bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and grabbed it before I could. I jerked upright, almost falling.
Edward Cullen was right next to me, leaning casually against my truck.
"What the hell?" I asked in amazed irritation.
"What?" He held my key out as he spoke. As I reached for it, he dropped it into my palm.
"Just stop sneaking up on me."
"Why? Who knows, it could save your life." His voice was quiet but melodic like a music note.
I scowled at his perfect face. His eyes were once again deep, golden honey pots. Then I had to look down, to reassemble my now-tangled thoughts.
"What is up with you?" I hissed at him and he just smiled at me innocently "what do you mean?"
"First you block me in and now…" My voice trailed off. "I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don't exist, not irritating me to death."
"Who am I to get in the way of love?" He innocently asked his hand against his mouth.
"You..." I paused. I couldn't think of a bad enough word to say. I clenched my keys in my fist in frustration, It felt like flames were shooting out of my head, and he just stood there more amused than ever.
"Me," he smiled, clearly enjoying this. "And I'm not pretending you don't exist."
"So, are you intentionally trying to annoy me to death?" I asked, sarcastically folding my arms. "You could have just let the van do it; it would have been faster."
His expression shifted, his lips pressed into a hard line and his brows furrowed. I struck a nerve and I couldn't help but smile at that idea.
"Why are you always like this?" His voice was low and sharp, it almost made me shiver.
"Why are you?" I smirked back at him before turning and walking away.
This was a waste of time, he was a waste of time. I had no energy to give him, but of course he had more than enough.
He quickly matched my pace, "I'm sorry, that was rude," I could hear his smile in his voice. "I actually hand something to ask you."
"Do you have a dissociative personality disorder? Did you run out of meds or something?" I asked from between my teeth.
"We'll just keep going in circles if you don't let me talk," he said, smirking and raising his hands as if surrendering.
I sighed. "Fine, spit it out."
"Will you go with me to the spring dance-" I abruptly cut him off, "I'm gonna hit you," I turned to face him, his beautiful annoying mischievous face. I really wanted to hit it.
He gazed wickedly amused. "Could you let me finish, please?"
I waved my hand at him to continue. "I was wondering if you needed a ride to Seattle," he finally explained.
His proposal caught me off guard. "What? What are you getting at?"
"I meant that we could go together. With me," he enunciated each word as if speaking to someone mentally challenged.
I remained stunned. "Why?"
"Well, I was planning to visit Seattle around the same time, and I thought it might be safer if we went together," he said.
"My truck works perfectly fine," I retorted, annoyed by his unnecessary concern. "If you're looking for company, ask Tyler." I started walking again, my surprise hindering my anger.
"Come on, that truck probably can't even make it to Montesano," he matched my pace
"I'll be fine. I am a man, I'll survive," I snapped, irritated by his criticism of my truck.
"Come on, that doesn't even sound convincing coming from you," he countered.
"Honestly, Edward," I said, feeling a strangely thrilling sensation in saying his name. "Why are you doing this to me? You told me you didn't want to be friends." I looked at him, genuinely exhausted.
"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be," he clarified.
"Well, that clears things up," I replied sarcastically, realizing I had stopped walking again. Now under the cafeteria roof, I could easily look into his face, which only muddled my thoughts.
"It's definitely for the best if we're not friends," he explained quietly. "But... there's something about you. I find it difficult to stay away from you."
His hand found it's way to my cheek, it was cold and wet but still felt amazing against my skin. "Please, will you go with me to Seattle?" he asked softly, looking me directly in the eyes.
I nodded quietly, unable to speak. He briefly smiled, then his expression turned serious once again.
"You're making this very difficult for me," his statement almost sounded like a warning. "I'll see you in class." He winked before abruptly turning and retracing our steps.
After that, I stood outside for a few minutes. My legs felt heavy, and my mind was a complete mess.
By the time I stepped into class was almost over, and Mr. Mason noticed me.
"Swan! Nice of you to join us!" Mr. Mason's voice rang across the class as I walked in.
I put my head down and stumbled to my usual seat, my mind was still a mess but it was easy to notice Michelle wasn't there. Instead sitting in the front with Erica.
That was…different.
My mind raced with thoughts as I stared blankly in her direction.
Did she hate me now? Just because of this stupid dance? Were we even real friends?
It was easy to drift into negative thoughts, positive ones were always the hardest ones to find.
It felt right to assume the worst of the people around me, but since I came to Forks it feels like I was always being proved wrong.
When class ended, Michelle and Erica came to my desk and walked with me to the next class, like they always did.
Like yesterday never happened…
Their voices flooded into the background, making me realize I might have blown the situation out of proportion. Maybe they didn't even like me and just asked a guy friend to avoid the annoyance of finding a date.
Maybe I was an idiot.
Michelle was excited as always, gushing about the weekend.
"Saturday is supposed to be clear!" She almost sang the words.
"So we're going this weekend?" I grimaced behind her.
It was going to be the perfect day for the beach in this town, barely above forty degrees and the sun still nowhere to be found.
But at least it wasn't raining.
"Heck yeah!" She did a small dance before being distracted and running to tell the rest of our group.
The day blurred by; my attention in classes waned as thoughts of Edward consumed my mind.
The day blurred by; I didn't bother with class instead allowing my mind to be completely saturated with Edward.
It was annoying, I had a nagging feeling in the back of my head. Telling me to run away, to take his cryptic warnings and visible dislike as a sign that I didn't need to understand him.
But I wanted to know him, to hear his voice, to understand the secrets behind his actions and contradictions. I wanted to risk everything just for a moment where everything was clear and easy to understand.
I was an idiot.
Lunch came before I could prepare for it. I anxiously scanned the room for Edward, wondering which version of him I would encounter today. Would it be the one who barely acknowledged me or the one who hated me? Or maybe, by some miracle, I'd see the version that actually talked to me.
My friends' voices drifted into a buzz at the edge of my mind, Jesse was still bragging, Michelle was talking to Alex and I was Scanning the Cullens' table.
He wasn't there…
I dropped my head and just mindlessly followed Jesse through the lunch line, not even thinking about food. I just grabbed a bottle of lemonade.
"Dude, he's staring at you again," Jesse shoved me, causing me to look up. "It's kinda freaky, why is he sitting alone?"
I looked up instinctively and our eyes met immediately. Edward sat there, wearing a crooked smile and staring directly at me from a vacant table across the cafeteria. He waved over to me to join him.
My mind went blank, I just stared at him as his smirk grew. I could swear I could see a mischievous tail swinging excitedly behind him.
Jesse broke me out of my trance, pushing my shoulder. "I think he wants to talk to you. What's up with that?" Jesse's voice was tense, like he was worried about something.
"Yeah, um, he asked me to help him study for something in Biology," I mumbled, trying to come up with a plausible reason. "I better go... do that."
I nearly jogged over before Jesse could respond, I could feel his eyes following me. It was fine, he wasn't the type to overthink things; I just hoped he wouldn't make an exception for this.
I stood awkwardly behind the chair across from Edward, not really knowing what to do. Part of me feared that he wasn't calling me over, that I had misunderstood and I was an idiot.
He chuckled, "Why don't you sit with me today?" It didn't sound like a question, and I sat down without answering.
I felt like he could vanish at any moment, like a dream that ends the moment you wake up. But even when I blinked he was still there, smiling at me.
His face was soft, comfortable, like he would have been fine if I never said anything. But I couldn't stand hearing only the sound of my heart.
"You're different," I finally managed to say.
His voice flashed surprise before settling back. "Well," he hesitated before the words spilled out in a rush. "I decided that if I was going to hell, I might as well embrace it."
I looked at him, He didn't look like he was joking. I wavered between the idea that he was joking about being gay or something I was completely unaware of, or maybe both?
I waited for him to elaborate further, but he settled back into his content silence.
I broke it again, "You know I have no idea what you're talking about, right?"
He laughed softly. "I know," before changing the subject. "I don't think your friends like me."
"You're right." The weight of their stares bore into my back. "But they'll be fine for today."
"Who said it was just for today?" he added in a low purr.
My body shivered involuntarily and I laughed nervously to hide it. That sounded dangerously close to flirting.
He chuckled and looked at me. "You look worried."
"No," I replied, my voice breaking embarrassingly. "Just surprised. Are you... actually okay with this?"
"I'm tired of trying to avoid you," he leaned towards me with a smile, his cold hand lifting my chin. "So I give up." His eyes were serious.
"Give up?" I repeated, confused.
"Yes, I'm giving up on being a good boy." His hand shifted to my cheek. His hand was like ice, hard and freezing but it left everywhere he touched feverishly hot. "Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative. I'm going to enjoy the moments as they come."
His smile faded as his voice dropped to a bitter hiss, "damn the consequences."
I stared at him, he flinched as I slowly touched his arm. "We're not thinking the same thing, are we?"
His breathtaking crooked smile returned.
"Maybe, or maybe not." He pulled his hand away, leaving my cheek feeling empty. "It's better that you don't know. I always say too much when I'm talking to you. That's one of the problems."
"Don't worry, I don't understand, or at least I don't think I do," I quipped, still trying to get him to tell me.
"I'm counting on that," he didn't bite.
"So friends?" I asked softly. It felt so childish to just ask him out right but, I doubted I would get a straight answer otherwise.
"Friends," he pondered skeptically, moving back, straightening his posture, and playing with his fingers.
"Or not," I muttered.
He grinned. "No, that's a good term for it, I suppose." He seemed to pull back some of his flirtiness. "But I have to warn you, I'm not a great friend." Behind the smile, the warning felt genuine.
"I've noticed," I joked, attempting to ignore the fluttering in my stomach.
"You haven't seen anything yet," he leaned toward me again. "If you were smart, you'd run away."
His hand found itself on my cheek again, I leaned into it like a cat. "Who said I was smart?"
He smirked, suppressing a laugh.
"So, as long as I stay dumb, we should be good?" I asked, trying to understand the conversation.
"That sounds correct," he replied softly.
I looked down at the lemonade in my hand, feeling unsure of what to do next.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked curiously.
Looking up into his striking golden eyes, I grew flustered and blurted out the truth, I wish I was a better liar.
"You…"
Though his jaw tightened, his smile seemed to grow. He leaned closer, his voice was a purr again, "what about me?" His tone was sweet but tense.
I told myself I wouldn't be a victim to a pretty face, but I had no clue a face could be this pretty. I was hard and my mind was blank, this was too much.
"Everything… I just can't figure you out," I stuttered and babbled as I tried to find the words, "it's stupid ideas."
He laughed lightly. "What are your theories?"
Admitting that I've been spending a month oscillating between seeing him as Clark Kent and Steve Rogers was not an option. I would take that to the grave.
"I'm not telling," I replied, my face turning bright red.
He tilted his head innocently, his mischievous smile teasing his lips. "Come on, tell me. I won't bite."
I shook my head. "No way, dude."
He let go of my cheek, folding his arms,"You have a talent for frustrating me."
"Really?" I asked disingenuously. "At least we have something in common. It's good to know you have a jerk that jumps between treating you like a leper and saying cryptic crap that keeps you up at night."
"So you think of me at night?" He asked sarcastically.
I flushed red, "not the point."
He laughed
I glared at him.
"The oddest things seem to upset you," his smile faded.
"Only when I'm talking to a certain someone," I muttered under my breath.
We stared at each other, both wearing serious expressions.
He glanced over my shoulder and then unexpectedly snickered.
Confused, I asked, "What's so funny?"
"Your girlfriend seems to be worried about your safety. She's contemplating whether or not she should come over to rescue you," he explained, snickering once more.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," I sighed. "Either way, I'm sure you're wrong."
"I'm not. I told you, most people are easy to read."
"Except me, right?" I added sarcastically.
He suddenly moved back, his eyes turning to a more listless look. "Correct."
He looked at me like a puzzle, serious and unblinking. It made me flush with heat again. I wanted to ignore him, to be unbothered by his eyes. Took a swig of my lemonade, focusing on the bitter, sour flavor. It didn't taste a bit sweet. It made my mouth tingle and churned and curdled my stomach.
"You're not hungry?" he asked, sounding distracted.
"No," I replied. I felt more like throwing up than eating, not that he needed to know that. "Are you?" I gestured to the empty table in front of us.
"No, I'm not hungry," he seemed surprised by this, responding with an expression that suggested I missed an inside joke.
"Can I ask you a favor?" I hesitated before speaking.
He tensed up, becoming on edge. "That depends."
"It's nothing really," I reassured him.
His body remained tense as he waited.
"If you are just planning on avoiding me again, can you just…stop?" My voice was unsteady, unsure of my own words.
I wanted to know more about him, I was obsessed with him. But I hated being avoided by him, I hated knowing someone hated my existence so much that they wouldn't even look in my direction.
It made me feel weak, pathetic like I wasn't even worth a goodbye. It stung.
"I wouldn't get mad at you or anything, I just… rather not get too attached." I added quietly.
He paused, his eyes seemed to flutter from amusement to pity, before he closed his eyes tight and answered, "That sounds fair," he agreed.
"Thanks," I let out a sigh.
"In return, can I request one answer from you?" he demanded.
"Only one," I affirmed.
"Tell me one theory."
I almost jumped up, "no way, pick something else," I quickly backtracked.
"Come on, you promised," he reminded me, his voice still playful but with an edge.
"Well, this can be payback," I retorted.
"I promise not to laugh."
"You will," I insisted. There is no way he wouldn't.
He looked down, appearing a bit sad, before looking back up at me innocently. His beautiful eyes left my mind empty. He wasn't playing fair.
"Um, what?" I asked, feeling dazed.
"Please, just one little theory," he whispered, leaning toward me again. His hand hovered just over my cheek.
This isn't fair. How can he have this effect on me?
I was an idiot.
"Um, well, maybe you're an alien?" I asked, accepting my role as a pushover.
"That's not very imaginative," he scoffed, playfully challenging my suggestion.
"Sorry," I shrugged, conceding to his point.
"You're nowhere close," he teased, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
"Radioactive spiders?" I asked, figuring I might as well ask all my questions now.
"None." He shook his head.
"Super Soldier program?" I asked anxiously.
"Do I look like a soldier?" He raised an eyebrow.
I stared at him, my defeat evident, and sighed, "Damn."
"I'm also not weak to wood," he chuckled,
"I thought you weren't supposed to laugh," I pointed out, a small smile forming on my lips.
He struggled to compose himself, shaking as he tried to suppress laughter.
"I'll eventually figure it out," I declared, not completely serious.
"I wish you wouldn't try," he said with a touch of seriousness.
"Why not?" I challenged, sensing the shift.
"What if I'm not a superhero? What if I'm the villain?" His smile was awkward and his eyes were guarded.
"Oh," I said softly, I didn't know what to say, it sounded so silly but his eyes were so guarded. Clearly he meant something by that, "I see."
"Do you?" His discomfort evident, he remained rigid as if fearing he had unintentionally revealed too much.
"You're saying that you are a bad person," I said slowly. He was just saying what he was always saying, that I should run away.
He continued to lock eyes with me, his expression a captivating blend of enigmatic emotions that eluded my comprehension.
"Who isn't?" I muttered under my breath, "I am a bad person…" My words trailed off.
"No you're not," he said dismissively, "Not like me."
"Maybe I am, maybe I am not." I answered with a shrug.
His hand left a trail of cold fire on my cheek as he moved to playfully pinched the tip of my nose, "not you, it's impossible." He laughed lightly.
"We all have secrets," I looked away with a small laugh.
"Sorry," he barely whispered as he pulled away. He grabbed the lid of my bottle and started to fiddle with it.
This felt irrational, it felt like the world didn't exist. Just him and me. I didn't care if anyone saw how close I was to him, the way he touched me or the way I looked at him. It was just us and I was fine with that.
The silence became comfortable, the rhythm of my heart becoming louder and louder the longer we set until finally I looked up and the cafeteria was nearly empty.
"we're late." I got up slowly and waited for him to move.
He just sat there playing with my bottle, spinning it on the table until it became a blur. "I'm not attending today," he shrugged casually.
"Why?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Skipping class can be occasionally beneficial," he replied, flashing me a smile. "Would you join me?" Though he attempted to appear nonchalant, his body remained tightly wound.
"Maybe next time," I playfully replied, I didn't think I could survive being alone with him just yet.
He waved me off, engrossed in his newfound game. "Suit yourself. See you later."
I hesitated, torn between rushing to class and the desire to spend more time talking to him. But the bell chimed, forcing me out the door before I could dwell further, only glancing back for reassurance that he wasn't following.
As I sprinted to class, my head spun faster than the bottle. Questions, thoughts, and emotions whirled within my mind, more than I could process in a single moment.