Trade my hope for pain
Still hate who I became
How long am I gonna be young and lost?
Might never feel right
Never be clear
But nothing'll change until I face my fear
Done paying the price without knowing the cost

I opened my eyes when I felt the heat of the sun begin to warm the sky. It was already starting to become obscured by clouds, promising another overcast day. I groaned, rolling over onto my side and wished, as I had multiple times throughout my too-long life, that I could sleep and escape reality, even for just a few minutes.

Numbly, I dug in my pockets for my phone, and somehow managed to find Georgette's number. I loathed myself for needing her again so soon, but I didn't know what else to do. Her voice was gentle but insistent - the increase in visions could only mean I was closer to the answers I was looking for. I had to stay.

I hung up without saying anything more, hating her for being right and hating myself even more for hating her for it.

I'd had plenty of spells in the past, ranging from hours to months, where I scarcely did more than blink, otherwise as still as the stone I was usually pressed into. I had come out of those moments, able to put on a new face and identity for a time and go through the appropriate motions. This felt different. Before it had been like an ocean, pressing in all around me and suffocating, but I could still see the surface if I swam hard enough.

Now I was in a black hole, the gravitational force sucking me in too strong to fight even if I had wanted to. All I saw was blackness, my senses struck dumb in the consuming void. There was no more taste, or touch, or sight, or smell. It was as close as I would get to sleep, and I walked into it's embrace willingly. Anything to be rid of the baggage I had been carrying around for so long.

A sudden movement on the periphery of my vision made me glance, and I found myself staring into the tawny eyes of a mountain lion. It just stood there, proud and somewhat haughty, blinking occasionally, but otherwise unmoving. I waited for it to hiss or growl or strike, but it seemed content to remain still as long as I did. We sat there staring at each other for what seemed an eternity. Finally curiosity started to creep in, and I sat up on my elbow to examine it further. Without warning it exhaled in a great huff, as if to mock my pitiful state, and turned and sauntered into the woods.

Completely mystified, I sat up and began to follow it, pulled along by some force that felt far outside my own control. Its path was meandering, crisscrossing through the woods, without much of a pattern. Abruptly, I lost the scent of the creature, but it was replaced by something else, far more familiar. I was.. at my house? I stepped through the tree line, and automatically made for the key I'd hidden under the eaves, unlocking the door.

As I stepped into the living room, I was gripped with conviction, the feeling totally alien after my earlier wallowing. This was my house, my home. I had survived this long, and not just survived - I had lived, as a teacher, a doctor, a violinist. I had been strong enough to keep going, even in the face of the ever-present chasm in my chest. If I ever wanted out of it, to see it closed or sewn shut in any capacity, then I had to endure. It was the only way through, and I knew it. I had just been too scared, clinging to the comfort of my pain, to admit it.

Now firm in my resolve to continue trying to unearth my past, I showered and changed to get ready for school. I grabbed the first things my hands landed on, coming out with a maroon knit batwing sweater and my black Grace Karin pencil pants. I slipped into a pair of nude ballet flats, and ran a brush through my tangled hair before deciding I was acceptable.

Parking in my usual spot, I cut the engine and sat for a moment to take a few deep breaths. It didn't do much to calm me, as my lungs were indifferent to the air passing through them, but the sense of control it brought was soothing. As I sat, I made a checklist to myself. I would not be mean to the Cullens, but I would avoid them whenever possible. I would be cordial, but not overly friendly. And under no circumstances would I speak to Edward. Not only had his outburst scared the hell out of me, but at baseline he seemed even more unstable than I was. I felt my silence toward him would be a kindness, hopefully easing some of the burden my presence brought.

My mental preparations proved successful for the first half of the day. I nodded to Alice and Jasper as we passed each other in the courtyard as I was on my way to gym, and offered a demure "Hello," to Emmett during History. I decided to skip the cafeteria for lunch, knowing that would be difficult to bear for Edward, and I still had 4th period to torment him with my presence. Instead I took my break in the library, and used the pretense of studying for an upcoming Spanish quiz to dissuade the librarian from hovering.

I was all the way in the back, tucked into a far corner and hidden behind the library carrels. I thought this was safe, out of anyone's direct sightlines, so I was less likely to be bothered this way. I was just starting book IV of the Iliad, and was at Jove's angry retort to Juno when I saw something move around the edge of the shelves I was sheltering behind. I looked up, not really knowing what I expected to find, but it was certainly least of all Edward Cullen. He was starting at me again - as he did every time I was in his vicinity - but the look was not fire and brimstone as it had been every other time I had seen it. Rather, he looked repentant.

I balked for a moment, considering how likely I was to escape without the librarian noticing my inhuman speed, but he made no further move to approach, so I sighed in surrender. I was cornered. I waved him over and closed my eyes, pressing my fingers into my temples. Did this really have to happen the very first day?

"Edward." My greeting was not cold, but it hardly invited conversation, either. "What can I do for you?"

He looked down at his hands briefly, clasped on the desk I was sitting at, before he looked back up at me. The way his eyes regarded me, like they were trying to literally see into my thoughts, made me reflexively check my shield. I assuaged it was still in it's semi-suspended state, something I was determined to maintain after my faux pas last night. I hedged that he had a talent of some kind that allowed access to my thoughts, and while unsure of the specifics, I was intent on him thinking my silence had been a fluke regardless.

He coughed, bringing me back to reality. "Elle, I just wanted to say how deeply sorry I am for last night. It was the height of disrespect to accost you in such a manner. Please, will you forgive me?"

I stared at him, not immediately offering up my acceptance as my mind was still twisting over the way his voice felt, like balm on an angry burn. When I didn't answer, he apparently took my silence for refusal, because he continued. "You just.. remind me so much of her that I lost my head. And those things you saw-"

I cut him off. "You must be mistaken. I didn't see anything." The deceit felt wrong, no matter how necessary it was.

"Of course. Again, my apologies." His tone told me he knew I was lying, but for whatever reason, he didn't press the issue. He paused before he continued, apparently considering his next words carefully. "Elle, I rather hoped that we could be friends."

These words, strung together in this context, were easily the most flabbergasting part of this already bewildering encounter by far. I managed a strangled, "Excuse me?" but my mind continued to try to process their meaning. He wanted me to be friends. With him. After everything that happened last night? I had thought, on more than one occasion, that I was more than likely insane, but Edward Cullen was making me question my metrics. A sinister thought slithered through my head that maybe he was using the pretense of friendship to get closer to me for more nefarious means. I tried to throw it off, and was taken off guard by his dark chuckle.

"You know, I can read thoughts. Yours are.. so different. Sometimes they're very clear, and other times it's like listening to someone talking underwater - muffled. I can hear you thinking I have some sort of ulterior motive. I promise you, Elle, I am sincere in my words. Truly, all I want is your friendship."

This new information was alarming, to say the least. First: he could hear my thoughts, apparently as I thought them. Second: I was not keeping nearly enough cloaked behind my shield, in that case. I thanked Regina, the only time I had ever done so, for forcing me to be so creative with my talent. It was like fate had placed her in my path for this very reason. I tightened my shield slightly, unsure of how much exactly was getting through.

"Until I met you, Elle, I had not heard anyone in a very long time. It was like the grief of losing.. her.. had completely killed that part of me. When I could suddenly hear again... it was like I had been blind, and was finally seeing the sun again, and I can't help but think that it's all thanks to you." His voice was thick with emotion, choked by tendrils of grief I could only barely understand. I swallowed hard, and nodded. How could I not help him, when it could very well help myself? The longer I was near him, the more my pain morphed, transmuting itself from agony to something that resembled sanguine comfort.

"Friends.." I swallowed again. "Sure."

Even having no expectations, being friends with Edward Cullen was nothing like I could have imagined. The rest of the day passed without incident or interaction, including AP Physics, and I left school wondering if his request was simply a formality.

However, when I pulled into school the next day, I saw him leaning against his car - the silver one I'd noticed before - as if he were waiting for me. Sure enough, as I was making to get out of the Audi, he walked over and held out his hand out expectantly.

"May I?" His voice was soft as velvet, and temporarily sent a wave of dizziness over me.

"Ahh.. sure..?" I sounded like an idiot, but he didn't make a face as I put my hand in his and climbed from the car. A spark of awareness jolted up my arm at his touch and I was acutely aware of exactly how handsome he was. I felt the familiar press of images jockeying to overload my senses, but it was like his touch muted them and made the onslaught easier to handle. Add to this the fact he was the only vampire who had ever actually touched my skin before, and I was suddenly wondering how good of an idea friendship with this vampire was.

"You've never been touched before..?" I started at his voice, pulling my hand from his. His voice was gentle and sad, but I was still felt a hot sting of embarrassment. I had no idea I'd let that thought slip or if touching amplified his abilities, and I suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"I've been alone a long time. I don't worry about it." The real reason was that touch, especially skin to skin contact, had been physically intolerable up to this point, but I didn't feel like offering up this particular tidbit. Even when I saw Clint, Georgette and Francine once a decade, we did not embrace.

He didn't ask about it further, so I started through the parking lot to first period. I glanced over at him, and decided to try thinking at him, trying to gauge exactly how his gift worked.

What are you doing? I questioned silently. He laughed, very slightly. "Walking you to class. I would think that's obvious." I bristled as he used my words I had said last night against me.

So what exactly does being friends with you entail? Having my thoughts plucked from my head like worms?

He frowned at this, clearly unhappy with my accusatory tone. "Elle, I don't want to make you uncomfortable. What I do.. it used to be as natural as breathing. It's much like being in a crowded room - full of voices that are indistinct until I focus on them. I will try my hardest not to listen to you, if that's what you wish."

I spoke aloud this time, the conversation feeling somewhat one sided when only one person was actually speaking. "I'm sorry. I just don't have a lot of experience with people. As I said before, I've been alone for quite some time. I didn't mean to be rude."

We had stopped outside my classroom, and turned to face each other. He regarded me for a moment, looking like he was trying to solve an incredibly interesting conundrum. I cleared my throat, his stare beginning to make me feel self-conscious again.

"Well.. I'll see you at lunch, maybe?" I was just starting to turn to go into the classroom when his arm came up, the back of his hand caressing my cheek.

The unexpected touch made me take an instinctual step backward and he dropped his hand, letting it fall back to his side. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what.."

I held my hands up, palms forward to stop him. "It's fine. Please don't apologize. I'll, um, see you after class."

I spun and hurried into the classroom before he could respond, still reeling. As I sat down, I touched my fingertips to where his hand had been, and couldn't help but think I had felt it before.