STEPHENIE MEYER OWNS THE TWILIGHT UNIVERSE AND ALL OF THE CHARACTERS.
"Are you okay, Edward?" Jasper asked, eyeing him with concern as they made their way across the school parking lot and towards the entrance. "You're not breathing. And I'm feeling… a strong sense of dread coming from you."
"I'm fine," Edward replied curtly, his tone clipped and his jaw tight.
"Hey man, I get it." Emmett slapped him on the back with the force of a sledgehammer, causing Edward to slightly stumble forward. "Some of these teenagers reek, but you don't gotta hold your breath."
"Well, technically, he doesn't need to breathe," Alice chimed in with a casual shrug. "Y'know, being vampires and all."
Still seething from Emmett's unnecessarily hard slap and unable to retaliate without making a scene in broad daylight, Edward chose to say nothing. Instead, he stormed off toward his first-period class, his irritation radiating in waves.
"See, babe?" Emmett leaned toward Rosalie with a mischievous grin. "That's how you act in third person view. You can't blame some of the girls at this school for calling you the Ice Queen."
Rosalie glared at him, then shoved his face away with the back of her hand, spinning on her heel and storming off in the opposite direction, her heels clicking sharply against the linoleum.
"Was it something I said?" Emmett looked genuinely dumbfounded, blinking after her.
"Think carefully, Emmett." Jasper said dryly, one brow raised.
"…Shit," Emmett muttered after a beat of silence.
"I see the lightbulb going off," Alice snickered, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Wait—Rosie!" Emmett called, suddenly springing into motion and jogging after her. "I didn't mean it like that!"
Jasper watched him go, shaking his head. "Makes you wonder how those two are supposed to be the most compatible for each other."
"At least we'll never have to worry about people saying that about us," Alice replied sweetly as she leaned up and pecked his cheek.
"That we won't, sugar…" Jasper leaned down to return the affection—only to be interrupted by a very deliberate and throat-clearing cough from behind them.
"Ahem. Mr. Hale and Ms. Cullen," came the stern voice of the principal, arms folded, expression grave. "Public displays of affection are strictly prohibited on school grounds."
Alice giggled, biting her lower lip. "Right. It won't happen again!"
"I hope not," the principal grumbled, shaking his head before walking off down the hallway, muttering something about 'boundaries.'
"You saw that coming," Jasper murmured, poking her in the ribs.
"I did." Alice grinned even wider, clearly pleased with herself.
"And you didn't tell me?" Jasper raised a skeptical brow.
"I like watching you get embarrassed," she said with a cheeky shrug.
"Yes, by a principal who I'm old enough to be his great-great-grandfather," Jasper said with a low chuckle, shaking his head.
"Well…" Alice drawled, her smile turning sly. "You'll just have to get me back now."
"I already have an idea for that," Jasper said, returning the smirk.
"Oh? And what would that be?" Alice purred, leaning in curiously.
"How about…" he leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper, "I skip going to the mall with you this weekend."
He pulled back and grinned as Alice's expression instantly dropped into theatrical outrage. She stomped her foot, lips parted in protest.
"Jasper Hale!" she whined, voice echoing faintly down the hallway.
"Oh, is that the bell I hear?" he cupped a hand to his ear with mock innocence. "Gotta get to first period!"
"You get back here!" Alice yelled, already chasing after him as he took off down the corridor with an easy, laughing stride.
Meanwhile, in his first-period class, Edward was silently fighting the increasingly overwhelming urge to rip open the nearest human's throat and drain them dry.
The thirst was agonizing now.
His first week back in Forks was nearly over—Friday had finally arrived—but he hadn't had a single drop of blood since he arrived. Not a taste. Not even a whiff of relief.
Normally, this kind of deprivation would never have happened. He didn't starve himself. Ever. Moderation had never been required when he lived as a nomad. He found someone—someone irredeemable—and fed until he was sated. Society wouldn't miss them. At least, that's what he told himself. It worked for decades.
But now... now he realized how impossible it was to suppress the thirst until you had no choice. Now that he couldn't feed—not because he physically couldn't, but because he wouldn't—the temptation clawed at his throat, burning like fire, making every breath feel like inhaling embers.
And worst of all?
He was so thirsty, he wasn't even sure if he could still tell the difference between the good humans and the bad ones. Right now, they all smelled like salvation and satisfaction. Every heartbeat in the room was thunder in his ears, every pulse a drumbeat summoning him closer to carnage.
But he couldn't.
He wouldn't.
All for Isabella Swan—the girl who didn't even know she had become the center of his world.
All for an illusion of morality he was desperately trying to uphold in her eyes.
Although, in a cruel twist of irony, Bella didn't even know he was a vampire. Didn't know he had ever killed. Didn't know he was denying his very nature so he could justify him being good enough to be in her presence. Which meant... technically... there was nothing for him to uphold. No expectation to live up to.
And yet… here he was.
Starving.
Weakening.
And acting dumber than Emmett with every passing class.
He nearly groaned aloud at the thought.
Still, despite the hunger clawing at his insides like shards of broken glass, Bella remained the only good thing in his existence right now. When she was near, something strange happened—something he hadn't felt in almost a century.
He forgot he was Edward the vampire.
He became Edward Masen again. Just… a human. A human who could laugh, maybe. A human who could do foolish things.
With her, there was no overbearing father telling him what career to pursue or what woman to marry.
That also meant there was no doting mother ready with soft words when his father became too sharp.
His fingers absently brushed the chain around his neck, finding the small, worn ring that had belonged to his mother. He exhaled a breath he didn't need.
God, how he wished his mother could meet Bella.
He almost—almost—wished he could ask her what to do. How to navigate this mess of feeling and instinct, desire and fear.
But there was no guidebook for vampires who allegedly fell in love and mated with a human girl, was there?
And it wasn't like he had another figure in his life to turn to for help in these matters.
Esme? No. As nurturing as she was, this wasn't something Edward could bring himself to discuss with her.
Rosalie? He'd rather gouge out his own eyes with a stick.
Alice…? That was a possibility. He wouldn't rule her out just yet.
"Mr. Masen?"
The voice cut through his thoughts like a sharp knife. Edward blinked, disoriented, and looked up at the teacher.
"Are you going to answer the question?" she asked, arms crossed, brow raised.
She asked me a question? he thought, blinking again as his mind tried to catch up.
"Wandering thoughts in class, eh, Edward?" Mike Newton wasted no time in smirking at him across the aisle, capitalizing on any opportunity to make himself look better by comparison.
"I don't suppose you know the answer, Mr. Newton?" Mrs. Robinson turned her attention to Mike with a pointed glare.
"No ma'am…" Mike shrank slightly in his seat.
"Now, Edward, do you need me to repeat myself?" Mrs. Robinson asked, her tone sharper this time.
"No," Edward said quickly, shaking his head and immediately diving into her mind, skimming through her thoughts for a clue.
Has he really not been paying attention all class? Maybe I need to call his parents…
Edward's jaw clenched. Of course. The useless teacher's first instinct was to call Carlisle and Esme instead of simply screaming the answer at him.
December 16, 1773, a calm and collected voice echoed in his head.
Angela Weber.
Sweet, unassuming Angela.
"December 16, 1773," Edward repeated aloud, his voice smooth, confident.
Mrs. Robinson blinked in surprise, but then offered him a small smile. "Correct. Maybe you have been paying attention after all."
She turned back to the whiteboard. "Now class, let's continue with the lesson…"
Edward slumped slightly in his seat, exhaling in relief. His mind tuned out the rest of her lecture almost instantly.
Instead, he turned his thoughts inward, focusing on one thing:
Angela Weber.
She didn't even know it, but she'd just saved him from suspicion—or worse, a very uncomfortable conversation with Carlisle and Esme.
He owed her and he'd find a way to repay that debt…eventually.
Edward slumped down into the cafeteria seat, pressing his elbows to the table as both of his hands gripped his head. His bronze hair fell in a disheveled curtain over his eyes, shielding his eyes from the others. He barely registered the plastic clatter of lunch trays or the sea of adolescent voices buzzing around them—every sound felt distant, muffled beneath the roar of his thirst.
"Aw, is high school too hard for the big, bad vampire?" Rosalie cooed mockingly from across the table, her perfect lips curling into a cruel pout. "Poor Eddie."
Edward didn't bother lifting his head. Instead, he shot her a withering glare from beneath his lashes. She knew how much he despised that nickname.
"See? This is why you don't skip breakfast," Emmett declared, completely unfazed, biting into a pear with exaggerated enthusiasm. Juice dribbled slightly down his chin, but he didn't care. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!"
"Again…" Edward muttered, voice low and strained, "human food doesn't benefit us."
"But it can sometimes taste good," Jasper added casually, tossing a slice of orange into his mouth like a mortal man pretending to enjoy the cafeteria's meager offerings. He chewed slowly, more out of habit than pleasure.
Alice, seated beside Jasper, watched Edward carefully. Her eyes were sharp with concern, though her expression remained purposefully neutral. She already knew what was wrong—it echoed in her visions like a broken note. He was starving himself. If the rest of them realized just how close he was to snapping, they'd pull him from school immediately. And if that happened… it would raise questions, cause a scene—something they could not afford.
"Edward," Alice said softly, leaning forward, her voice just loud enough for their table to hear, "what's going on?"
He looked up then, plastering on a hollow smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Alright, you got me," he said, voice deliberately casual. "All this homework… it's really piling up again."
"Cut the bullshit," Alice replied flatly, her cheerful tone evaporating like mist under the sun.
Edward's jaw clenched. The phantom smile dropped.
"It's nothing, alright?" he said, sharper this time.
"Edward…" Her voice dropped into a warning note.
"Leave it alone, Alice," Edward snapped, his voice low but biting. "Stop trying to stick your nose into everything."
"She's just trying to help," Jasper interjected, his tone edged in quiet steel. He didn't raise his voice, but there was a weight to his words that made the air thrum between them.
"Alright." Edward offered a smirk, the bitterness laced thick beneath the sarcasm. "I appreciate you, Alice. Really. But can you please stop sticking your nose into everything? You see what I did there? I added 'please' on top of it."
The tension bristled like electricity as Jasper let out a low, warning growl. Edward didn't flinch—he met it head-on.
"Boys." Alice stepped in quickly, her voice brisk but calm. "Let's not start this. We're in a high school cafeteria, remember?"
Jasper met her gaze—and relented. The stare she gave him, firm and unwavering, was enough to bring him back from the edge.
"Fine by me," Edward muttered, leaning back down, pressing his forehead to the cool surface of the table. "I want to be left alone."
"Why do you always have to stop the fun?" Emmett grumbled, oblivious to the tension as he dug into his pudding.
"That's like asking why you eat everything in sight," Rosalie said, exasperation heavy in her voice as she crossed her arms.
"Babe, how can you not like pudding?" Emmett asked, wide-eyed in disbelief. "It's not like you can get fatter from eating more sweets!"
There was a beat of silence. A tense beat.
Rosalie's eyes narrowed to slits.
With one swift, fluid motion, she squeezed his pudding cup, causing it to burst and splatter across his face. Chocolate oozed down his cheeks in slow drips as she stood and stormed off—again.
Emmett blinked, stunned. His mouth hung open, a perfect expression of dumbfounded confusion.
He looked around at the others as if expecting some sort of translator.
"You really have a knack, you know?" Edward said dryly, still not lifting his head from the table.
"…Wait!" Emmett suddenly gasped, launching to his feet as realization finally dawned. "Rosie, I didn't mean fatter, I meant fat! You know, like—ugh—never mind!" He bolted off after her, pudding still dripping from his chin.
"'Fatter' isn't even a real word… is it?" Jasper asked with a baffled expression, his brow furrowed.
"Not the first time Emmett's made up a word and managed to make Rosalie mad with it," Alice muttered, rolling her eyes and waving the question off. "It probably won't be the last."
Edward's torment didn't ease until he felt the faint shift in the air that accompanied her—Bella. She slid into the seat beside him in their next class, the scent of her skin hitting him like a velvet-wrapped dagger. It was still painful, a slight temptation, but knowing he could never hurt her like that softened those urges. Somehow being near her made the unbearable... bearable.
"Bad day?" Bella asked gently, her tone light and teasing, paired with a hopeful smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. If only she knew how much better she made it—how just being close to her dulled the edges of his hunger and soothed the ache in his throat.
"That's a good way to put it," Edward replied, returning her smile, albeit with a touch of weariness behind it. "What gave it away, though?"
"I'm no detective, buuut…" Bella drew out the word, stretching it playfully as she settled into her chair. "You had your head down the entire lunch period, got into this intense staring contest with Jasper—and then Rosalie squeezed Emmett's pudding cup like it insulted her, and it exploded all over his face."
Edward raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed. He had to give her credit; that kind of lunchtime drama was certainly not common in most high schools. But something about her answer made him pause. His gaze narrowed in amused suspicion.
"Were you… watching my lunch table the whole lunch period?" he asked, tilting his head and giving her a sly, sideways look.
"What?!" Bella's eyes widened, horror flickering across her face as the implication hit her. "N-No! I just—well, it was sort of in my peripherals and, you know…"
Edward's low, amused laugh cut her off. The sound sent her cheeks blazing scarlet, her mortification only deepening as he chuckled.
"You probably think I'm weird now," she muttered, ducking her head in embarrassment, her hair falling like a curtain between them.
"I can't exactly say you're the weird one," Edward replied, still laughing softly. "I mean, given what you witnessed at my lunch table today, it's safe to say the Cullens and I are the weird ones."
"I wouldn't say that," Bella said quickly, lifting her head and defending him with a furrowed brow. "You're just… eccentric."
"Ouch." Edward clutched his chest theatrically. "And here I thought you said I looked like a supermodel. Now I'm 'eccentric'? Where's the admiration, the flattery? That's the kind of compliment I like to hear."
"I was just being nice to the new kid," Bella teased with a shrug, a grin playing on her lips. "Besides, your ego doesn't exactly need the encouragement."
"I mean, you admitted to watching me from several tables away for the entire lunch period," Edward said with a smirk, eyes gleaming. "At that point, I don't think much more needs to be said."
"Well, in my defense," Bella countered, throwing him a mock glare, "there's only so much I can take of Jessica talking about Halloween costumes."
Edward raised a curious brow. "Oh? What's wrong with Halloween?"
"Nothing," Bella sighed, exasperated. "Except every costume idea she's pitched so far starts with the word 'slutty.' Slutty nurse. Slutty cat. Slutty pirate. I mean, is there a shortage of actual costume ideas in the world or something?"
"Maybe she's trying to get dress-coded on purpose," Edward shrugged with mock solemnity. "Some people crave attention. And trust me, the Cullen table isn't exactly a riot, either. Especially when you're the designated outsider."
"I doubt that," Bella said, rolling her eyes.
Edward looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a mischievous grin spread across his face—like the Cheshire Cat emerging from the shadows.
"Then why don't you just sit with me at a completely different table next Monday?"
Bella blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"I wouldn't want to impose on you guys…" she added quickly, her voice trailing off uncertainly.
"No, no." Edward leaned a little closer, his eyes locked on hers. "Listen to what I actually said. Sit with me. A different table. No Cullens. No Jessica and her… questionable costume concepts. Just you and me."
"Together?" Bella asked quietly, her voice tinged with a hopeful surprise she hadn't meant to reveal.
"I'd hope so…?" Edward replied, and for a brief moment, he felt an inexplicable wave of nervousness wash over him. Why was he anxious she might say no?
"Well…" Bella hesitated, biting her lip, "If your family is okay with you not sitting with them…"
"Trust me, they won't be missing me," Edward interrupted quickly. His smile widened, eyes softening. "So… that's a yes then, right?"
Bella's lips curved upward as she gave a small, shy nod, the gesture barely contained beneath her flushed cheeks.
Edward's grin turned triumphant for a fleeting second before his entire body went rigid, his internal alarm screaming in response to the sudden, unwelcome thoughts slipping from Mr. Banner's mind—something about blood type testing.
This was not going to end well.
A moment later, Mr. Banner strode into the room, juggling a few small cardboard boxes in his arms like a novice waiter on a tight schedule. The dull chatter in the classroom died down at his entrance as he called the class to order.
"Okay, class, I want you all to take one piece from each box," he instructed, retrieving a pair of rubber gloves from the pocket of his lab coat and snapping them on with practiced precision.
"The first should be an indicator card," he continued, holding up a white card marked with four faintly embossed squares. "The second is a four-pronged applicator—" he lifted an odd-looking instrument that resembled a nearly toothless hair pick, "—and the third is a sterile micro-lancet." He displayed a small piece of blue plastic and split it open with a faint click.
"I'll be coming around with a dropper of water to prepare your cards, so please don't begin until I've gotten to your table." He started at Mike's desk, carefully dispensing a single drop of water into each of the four sections of the indicator card.
"Then I want you to prick your finger with the lancet…" Mr. Banner grasped Mike's hand before the boy could react and jabbed the spike into the tip of Mike's middle finger with casual detachment.
It took every ounce of Edward's self-control to not react—violently—as the scent of fresh blood permeated the room. The scent struck him like a freight train. He could feel the effects of it taking over. The heat of his irises morphing from their usual rich green to a dangerous, near-glowing crimson. Black veins would follow, crawling out like dark roots around his eyes, betraying the monster within.
He clutched at his face, turning away slightly, desperately masking his reaction to even the faintest drop of human blood in his weakened state.
"Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs," Mr. Banner demonstrated, squeezing Mike's finger until the blood welled up freely, then pressing the applicator into the crimson beads.
Edward was relieved he hadn't taken a breath since Mr. Banner entered. Even now, holding his breath felt like hanging from a cliff by one finger. But he would rather suffocate than inhale another trace of that scent. This damned teacher had no idea how close he was to pushing Edward past his limits.
"And then apply it to the card," Mr. Banner finished, holding up the dripping red sample like it was a prized specimen. The visual was nearly worse than the smell.
"The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I thought you all should know your blood type," he announced with misplaced enthusiasm. "Those of you who aren't eighteen will need a parent's permission—I have slips at my desk."
Edward, still frozen, managed to shift his gaze to the seat beside him. Bella sat hunched over with her head down on the desk, her hair forming a curtain around her pale face. She looked every bit as uncomfortable as he felt. The similarity struck something in him.
Mustering control over his voice, he leaned in slightly. "Bella… are you alright?"
She didn't lift her head but gave a slow shake, her hair trembling slightly as it brushed against the desk.
"Mr. Banner," Edward called, keeping his voice steady despite the tightness in his throat, "I think Bella needs to go to the nurse."
Mr. Banner walked over, concern etched in his expression, and crouched slightly to Bella's level.
"Miss Swan, are you feeling faint? Do you need to lie down?"
Bella gave a small nod, still refusing to look up.
"Edward, would you mind escorting her?" Mr. Banner asked, now turning to him.
"Of course not," Edward replied, a little too quickly, and immediately schooled his face into a look of calm neutrality. It was selfish, he knew—it wasn't just about Bella's well-being. He needed to get out of this room before his restraint shattered. He would be having words with Alice later for not warning him about this…
He gently helped Bella to her feet under the eyes of the class, walking slowly toward the door.
Behind them, Edward could hear Mike's annoyed voice whining to the teacher. "I already finished my test—shouldn't I be the one to take her?"
Mr. Banner scoffed, clearly unimpressed by Mike's attempt to play hero. "Mr. Newton, sit down."
As soon as they stepped out into the hall and the classroom door clicked shut behind them, Edward glanced both ways, confirming the coast was clear. In one smooth, graceful motion, he scooped Bella up into his arms bridal style and strode toward the nurse's office.
"Is this really necessary?" Bella muttered, glaring up at him, but she didn't struggle. If anything, she seemed to melt slightly into his chest. Deep down, she didn't mind. Not even a little. Who was she to complain about being carried by Edward Masen?
"No," Edward said with a crooked smirk, "but it gives me a perfectly reasonable excuse to carry you."
"Unless, of course, it makes you uncomfortable?" he added more seriously.
Bella's response was quick, too quick. "No, it's fine."
She instantly regretted how that sounded and added, "I wasn't in the mood to walk anyway." Turning her face away from his, she huffed in a failed attempt to appear unaffected.
Edward chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that rumbled from deep in his chest, and continued walking.
When they arrived, he gently set her down just as the nurse reappeared from the back room. Edward explained with a touch of concern, "Bella almost fainted during the blood type testing."
Bella groaned quietly, pressing her hand to her forehead in embarrassment.
"You should get checked out too," she countered sharply.
Edward blinked, genuinely caught off guard. "Why?"
"You didn't look all that well during the whole thing either," Bella said, folding her arms and giving him a pointed look.
"I'm fine," Edward scoffed, shaking his head. "Completely fine."
"You looked constipated," she deadpanned. "And your eyes… it was like—" She paused, her brows knitting together as she struggled to recall exactly what she'd seen for a split second before she had to place her head down onto the table to keep her stomach in check.
"Bella, you weren't feeling well," Edward said slowly, deliberately, his voice low and soothing. "You don't know what you saw."
He hated himself for the lie, but there was no other choice. She couldn't know—not yet, maybe not ever. The truth, that he was a vampire who had come dangerously close to losing control in a classroom full of humans, would only terrify her. He'd rather twist the truth than risk driving her away.
"No, I know what I saw," Bella insisted, her voice quiet but fierce. "You looked like you were in pain."
"Bella…" Edward's protest came out softer this time, more conflicted.
She opened her mouth to press him further, but the door swung open before she could speak. Alice swept into the nurse's office like a breeze, light and graceful, with a perfect note of innocent surprise on her face.
"What are you two doing in here?" she asked brightly, tilting her head just so.
Edward had to admit—she was a phenomenal actress. Still, her thoughts had betrayed her a full hallway before she'd even entered.
"Bella wasn't feeling well with the blood type testing," Edward explained quickly, "so I brought her to the nurse."
"But you weren't feeling well either!" Bella jumped in, still determined to call him out.
"I managed to carry you here, didn't I?" Edward replied smoothly. "I think that says enough about how I'm doing."
Bella had no retort to that. She simply scowled and dropped into the nearest chair, arms crossed, while Edward leaned casually against the wall.
Moments later, the nurse emerged again, holding a small cup and clipboard, and began fussing over Bella.
"Can I talk to you?" Alice asked Edward, her tone innocent but her eyes meaningful.
Edward nodded. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" he said to Bella.
She didn't look at him but gave a silent nod in response, lips pressed together in silent frustration.
Edward turned on Alice the moment they were far enough down the hallway, certain they were alone and beyond the reach of any curious ears.
"What were you thinking?" he hissed, his voice barely a whisper, laced with fury and only audible to Alice's vampire-sensitive hearing.
Alice tilted her head with faux innocence, her pixie-like features unreadable. "About what?"
"You knew there would be blood type testing today," Edward seethed, throwing his hands up in barely contained exasperation. "And you let me walk straight into that class?"
Alice offered a nonchalant shrug. "You told me not to stick my nose into your business, remember? I figured it wasn't my place to say anything."
Edward stared at her incredulously. "So what? This was payback?" His eyes darkened as he snapped his fingers sharply. "I could have killed that entire class in a split second."
Alice rolled her eyes with a sigh. "Not with Bella there."
Edward growled low in his throat. "You seriously overestimate my self-control just because she's in the room. What if she had been hurt? What if I had lost it in front of her?"
"But she wasn't," Alice said evenly, her tone calm as ever. "And the both of you got out fine."
"And now she knows something's off with me!" Edward snapped, his voice strained with frustration.
"Better late than never," Alice replied without missing a beat.
"This isn't a game, Alice," Edward said, the weight in his voice grounding his words. "It's been a week. She can't find out what I am. Not yet."
Alice folded her arms across her chest and exhaled slowly. "Edward, it's only a matter of time. The news will cover what happened to those men in Port Angeles. Bella's not stupid. She'll connect the dots fast."
His expression twisted with anxiety as he started pacing in tight, agitated circles along the tiled corridor.
"What do I do?" he asked, his voice quiet now, almost pleading.
"Are you sure you want my help?" Alice teased, glancing down at her perfectly manicured nails. "I wouldn't want to intrude in something that isn't my business."
Edward clenched his jaw, his irritation resurfacing before it gradually bled into remorse. His shoulders slumped, and his voice dropped.
"I'm sorry, okay?"
"What was that?" Alice leaned in with a playful smirk.
"I'm sorry," he said again, this time a little louder. "I shouldn't have said what I did. You were trying to help me."
"It's okay," Alice replied, her expression softening. "Honestly, I'm impressed you managed to keep it together for this long."
"Trust me, I wanted nothing more than to go drain a human," Edward muttered, his voice low and disgusted with himself. "But..."
"But you can't," Alice finished gently, nodding.
"She'll find out about me eventually, right?" Edward looked up at her, his gaze pleading. "And when she does... I don't want her to see someone who still kills humans to survive."
Alice nodded thoughtfully. "You know there is another option."
Edward sighed deeply, raking a hand through his bronze hair. "Feeding on animals again... it's been so long. Doing it alone is just... I need help."
"We'll go after school," Alice said firmly. "You're going to have a long Monday, and I still can't see how Bella will react when she finds out you were the one who killed those men."
"Thanks," Edward said quietly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "All I can do now is hope she believes I'd never hurt her."
Alice nodded. "Just... be careful, okay? Her seeing your more inhuman traits today is going to make her more suspicious. She'll be distant and cautious for the rest of the day. Don't push it. Tread lightly."
Edward gave a solemn nod and began walking slowly away from her.
"You know," Alice called after him softly, "you're really not as terrible as you make yourself out to be."
Edward paused and glanced over his shoulder. "Because I stopped chewing on humans for Bella's sake?"
Alice shook her head with a faint smile. "Even before Bella, you were different from the others of our kind. You always had some semblance of morality. A conscience."
Edward looked away, the guilt in his chest a heavy weight. "Maybe. But you're all better than me. I can admit I'm selfish. But the one thing I refuse to be... is a monster."
He turned away again, not wanting to say another word. There were too many thoughts crashing in his mind—how he would explain things, how he would protect Bella from the truth, how he would protect her from him and what he is.
Time was running out, and the clock was ticking louder with every step he took away from Alice.