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The Denali Institute for Rebellious and Troubled Teenagers

Chapter Nine

Lauren POV - Thursday 11th August 2011

Today was the day.

Or at least, it was supposed to be.

I wasn't the type to chase after guys—at least, not openly. But Edward Masen? He was worth the effort.

And it wasn't like he had shown interest in anyone else.

Except maybe Bella, but that was debatable.

So this morning, I dressed with purpose.

A fitted top that hugged all the right places, a healthy amount of cleavage, and a pair of jeans that made my legs look unfairly good. I curled my hair just enough to give it that effortless but intentional look, then added a spritz of the perfume that had never failed me before.

Subtle, but potent.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, pleased with the results.

If Edward didn't notice me today?

He was either blind or fucking stupid.

I walked into the cafeteria, flipping my hair over my shoulder with the perfect amount of nonchalance, my eyes scanning for him automatically.

But he wasn't there.

None of the boys were.

My stomach dropped slightly, but I kept my expression neutral, grabbing a tray and heading toward the food line.

Fine. Whatever.

I'd just sit down, eat, and wait.

They'd show up eventually.

The cafeteria was busier than usual, and by the time I had my food, the only open table left was one by the center aisle.

I sighed, setting my tray down and trying not to look annoyed.

They'd be here soon.

I just had to wait.

Twenty minutes later, just as I was about to give up entirely, they finally showed up.

Edward, Emmett, Tyler, Jasper, and Jacob—all together, all laughing their asses off about something that had clearly been funny for a while now.

And, of course, they were clearly high as hell.

I knew it immediately.

The slightly glazed expressions, the lazy grins, the way Jasper and Jacob had to pause for a second just to get their shit together before walking toward the food line.

Unbelievable.

I had spent all morning making sure I looked irresistible, and they weren't even sober enough to appreciate it.

But fine. I could still work with this.

I straightened slightly, adjusting my posture as they grabbed their trays and walked to the only available table—which, luckily, was mine.

They sat down, still cracking up at some inside joke I had completely missed the beginning of.

Tyler nearly dropped his fork from laughing, and Emmett was wheezing like he was about to die.

"I still can't believe—" Jasper started, before losing it again.

Edward shook his head, smirking. "You're all fucking idiots."

"You're just mad you got caught," Jacob shot back, grinning.

Edward snorted, and the laughter started all over again.

I tried to smile, playing along, even though I had no idea what they were talking about.

"So what's so funny?" I asked, leaning in slightly, making sure to angle myself just right.

No one answered.

Not even a pause in conversation.

I cleared my throat lightly, flipping my hair over my shoulder, and tried again.

"What did I miss?"

Nothing.

They were still laughing, still talking to each other, still completely oblivious to my existence.

I clenched my jaw, shoving a bite of food into my mouth to keep from huffing out loud.

This was not how this morning was supposed to go.

I tried one more time, this time directing it at Edward specifically.

"Are you always this fun at breakfast, or is this just a special occasion?"

He didn't even look at me.

Didn't acknowledge the comment at all.

Instead, he just nudged Jasper, still grinning. "Tell me you at least covered your tracks before you—"

Jasper just laughed harder. "Oh, not even a little."

More laughter.

More inside jokes.

And zero acknowledgment that I was sitting right there.

I took a slow breath, pushing my tray forward slightly.

I was done.

This was pointless.

I grabbed my half-eaten food, stood up, and dumped the tray on my way out, barely resisting the urge to slam it into the bin.

I didn't even look back.

Because clearly?

Edward Masen wasn't worth my goddamn time.

Alice POV

Caius was not amused.

Not that he ever looked amused, but today there was a specific kind of tension in his posture, a rigidness that suggested he had noticed something he deeply disapproved of.

And, of course, it wasn't difficult to figure out why.

Because the boys were high as kites.

I had seen them at breakfast when they finally stumbled into the cafeteria, it had been obvious. Red eyes, lazy grins, barely contained laughter over some joke that none of them were explaining.

It had continued as they shuffled into math, still buzzing with whatever energy had carried them through the morning.

Now, Caius stood at the front of the class, staring at them with thinly veiled disdain, waiting for them to shut up and sit down.

They did not.

Jasper was still half-smirking at something Jake had whispered to him. Emmett had just dropped into his chair heavily, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. Tyler was blinking like a lizard, his delayed reaction to everything hilarious to himself but no one else.

Edward, to his credit, was more composed than the others, but even he had a faintly amused expression, like he knew exactly how this was going to go.

Caius took a slow, deliberate breath through his nose.

"If you think," he said, voice clipped, "that you will float through this class in your current state, you are sorely mistaken."

Jacob grinned, elbows on his desk, and muttered, "Float is a strong word. More like… drift."

Tyler choked on a laugh, trying to cover it with a cough.

Caius's jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might crack.

"Mr. Black," he said icily, "if you cannot manage basic function at this hour of the day, you are welcome to leave."

Jacob held up his hands in mock surrender, but his grin didn't fade.

Jasper, from the corner of my eye, was actively suppressing a laugh, his shoulders tensed in effort.

I watched, silent as always, as Caius let his cold glare sweep over all of them, waiting for someone to push him further.

No one did.

Not because they were scared, but because they were all too damn high to care.

Caius exhaled sharply. "I suggest you open your books before I make this class significantly less pleasant for all of you."

The boys finally settled, flipping open their books with varying levels of competence.

Jasper's movements were calculated. Edward's were careful but lazy. Emmett just yawned and stretched, turning the pages slowly, as if this entire lesson was an inconvenience to his relaxation.

Caius's eye twitched.

I lowered my gaze to my own book, but I could still feel the irritation radiating from the front of the room.

This was going to be a long class.

Caius was done.

Not in the momentary frustration kind of way—this was deeper. The kind of disgusted exhaustion that suggested he had long since abandoned the idea that any of us were salvageable.

The boys had finally stopped laughing, but their entire existence was still annoying him.

Tyler had completely given up on pretending to pay attention, staring blankly at his book like the words were shifting on the page.

Jasper was half-heartedly solving a problem, moving his pencil with the same vague amusement he'd had all morning.

Edward was doing the work, but in a way that felt like he wanted Caius to notice he was still high and not struggling in the slightest.

And Emmett?

He was just… existing.

Which, apparently, was enough to make Caius hate him.

"McCarty," Caius snapped suddenly, shattering the silence.

Emmett looked up lazily, his grin slow and unbothered. "Yeah?"

Caius stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable, then gestured at the board.

"Since you seem so completely relaxed, perhaps you'd like to demonstrate your understanding of today's material."

Emmett blinked. Then grinned wider.

"Yeah, alright," he said, standing far too easily for someone who was clearly still high.

He strolled up to the front, slow and casual, his broad shoulders loose with amusement. The rest of the class was watching now, sensing that this could either be a disaster or something wildly entertaining.

Caius handed him the marker, crossing his arms.

"Question seven," he said simply.

Emmett looked at the problem.

Paused.

Tapped the marker against his chin.

And then—without hesitation—solved the entire equation correctly.

He capped the marker, stepped back, and turned to face Caius with the most shit-eating grin I'd ever seen in my life.

"That about right?"

Caius's expression didn't change, but I could feel the tension rolling off of him.

Because Emmett was high as hell— and still managed to outperform half the class.

Caius stared at the board for a long, painfully silent moment.

Then, without acknowledging Emmett at all, he turned back toward his desk.

"Sit down, McCarty."

Emmett grinned like he had just won a championship, sauntering back to his seat with zero sense of urgency.

The moment he sat down, Tyler muttered, "Fucking legend."

Jasper and Jacob were both grinning, Edward was shaking his head, and even a few others who had been quiet the entire time were clearly biting back amusement.

Caius, clearly deciding not to waste more energy on this mess, turned back to the board and continued the lesson as if nothing had happened.

But the mood in the room had completely shifted.

And Emmett?

He just sat there, pleased as hell, like he had just conquered math itself.

Leah POV

The boys were finally sobering up, but not fast enough for Aro's liking.

Caius had barely tolerated their high-as-a-kite antics in math, but Aro?

Aro noticed immediately.

The moment we stepped into the classroom, his dark eyes swept over them, his usual quirky, unpredictable energy shifting into something more calculated.

"Ah," he said, clasping his hands together. "Los caballeros han decidido unirse a nosotros en cuerpo, pero no necesariamente en mente, sí?"

Jasper blinked, still catching up mentally. "Uh—what?"

Aro smiled, wide and sharp. "The gentlemen have decided to join us in body, but not necessarily in mind."

Jacob snorted quietly, dropping into his seat. "Yeah, yeah. We're here, aren't we?"

Aro let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, placing a hand over his chest like this was truly a tragedy.

"You wound me, Mr. Black. Truly, I had such high expectations."

Tyler smirked. "Well, you were half right."

Aro's eyes lit up with amusement, but there was something beneath it, something dark and assessing.

He stepped forward slowly, placing both hands on his desk as he leaned in.

"I do hope," he said, voice light but laced with something else, "that your… adventures this morning were worth the trouble they will inevitably bring you."

Jasper raised a brow, shifting in his seat. "We didn't get caught."

Aro's grin widened.

"Oh, my dear boy," he said smoothly. "You were caught the moment you walked into my classroom."

The boys exchanged glances, clearly trying to decide how much they should care.

Edward, who had been the most composed out of all of them, exhaled sharply and leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk.

"Are we actually in trouble, or is this just a very dramatic way of telling us you're disappointed?"

Aro studied him for a long moment.

Then he let out a soft chuckle, straightening. "A bit of both, I think."

Then, just as suddenly as the moment of tension had come, it vanished.

Aro turned toward the board, gesturing dramatically. "Now! Since our mente ausente friends may have difficulty forming complete sentences today, let's make this easy."

He flicked his wrist, and suddenly Spanish vocabulary flashcards rained from the front of the classroom, scattering across desks in chaotic disorder.

"Each of you will pick a card," he announced, "and form a single Spanish sentence using the word or phrase. A challenge even for the most intellectually impaired."

Jasper caught one between his fingers, reading it with mild disinterest. "Tiburón."

Tyler grinned, holding his up. "Cerveza."

Aro sighed theatrically. "Of course."

Leaning back, he gestured. "Go on, then. Impress me."

The next twenty minutes were filled with half-assed sentences, sarcastic remarks, and Aro looking both utterly entertained and deeply unimpressed.

Jacob, still coming down from his high, pointed lazily at his card. "Yo quiero dormir."

Aro tapped a finger against his chin. "Ah, yes. I want to sleep. A relatable sentiment, Mr. Black. However—" his smile grew sharp again—"your conjugation is lazy. Try again."

Jacob groaned. "Seriously?"

Aro gave him a pointed look.

Jacob rolled his eyes but corrected himself. "Quisiera dormir."

"Better!" Aro clapped enthusiastically, then turned his gaze to Emmett. "And you, Mr. McCarty? Surely you have something... enlightening for us?"

Emmett smirked, holding up his card. "El burro sabe más que tú."

There was a brief silence.

Then Tyler choked on a laugh, translating under his breath.

"The donkey knows more than you."

Aro stared at Emmett for a long moment.

Then he let out a slow, delighted laugh, shaking his head. "Ah, a classic insult. How creative."

Emmett beamed proudly.

Aro turned to Edward, who had been quietly enduring the entire class with an air of vague indifference.

"And you, Mr. Masen?"

Edward exhaled, holding up his card. "No me importa."

Aro arched a brow, tilting his head. "I do hope that is not a reflection of your attitude toward this class."

Edward smirked. "Take it however you want."

Aro grinned. "Oh, I will."

By the time Aro finally moved on, the boys were almost completely sober again.

Aro, for all his dramatics, hadn't actually punished them, but the message had been clear:

He knew. He noticed. And if they pushed too far, he wouldn't let them off so easily next time.

The bell rang, and as we started to gather our things, Aro clapped his hands together.

"Hasta mañana, mis pequeños delincuentes."

Jasper raised a brow. "Did you just call us little delinquents?"

Aro smiled innocently. "Did I?"

Jacob chuckled, shaking his head as we filed out of the room.

"I swear, that guy gets off on messing with us."

Edward smirked. "You just realizing that?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're lucky he found you amusing instead of unbearable."

Jasper gave me a side glance, smirking slightly. "We can be both."

I scoffed. "Trust me, I know."

Rosalie POV

I wasn't particularly excited for another round of Marcus's soul-draining, enthusiasm-killing approach to teaching English, but at least I wasn't stuck next to someone completely useless.

Emmett dropped into the seat beside me, shifting his chair slightly to make room for his absurdly broad shoulders.

I glanced at him, tilting my head slightly. "What does it take to get an invite to the morning hot-box session?"

Emmett chuckled, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world.

"A penis," he said simply.

I sighed, annoyed but not entirely surprised.

"Of course," I muttered. "Sexist assholes."

Emmett grinned. "Not sexist, just... logistically aware."

I arched a brow. "And what exactly does that mean?"

He smirked, shifting slightly to face me.

"I don't think they'd mind if it was just you," he admitted. "But then Lauren and Leah are gonna want to come too, and… ya know."

Both of us instinctively glanced toward Lauren, who was currently making her most conspicuous attempt yet to catch Edward's attention.

She had angled her entire body toward him, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, fake-laughing at something no one said, and pretending to write notes while actually just staring at him.

It was painful to watch.

I sighed again. "Yeah. I know."

Emmett snickered, clearly entertained.

Marcus walked in at that moment, looking like he was one bad conversation away from throwing himself out a window, and the class begrudgingly settled in.

"Open your books," Marcus muttered, rubbing his temple like just the thought of speaking was exhausting him. "Let's get this over with."

Emmett grinned at me, tapping his pencil against his desk.

"Guess we'll have to find other ways to entertain ourselves."

I smirked.

"I can think of a few."

Marcus looked like he was one existential crisis away from giving up entirely, which, honestly, was the only entertaining part of this class.

He sighed deeply, flipping open his worn-out copy of the play we were supposed to be studying—something Shakespearean, something tragic, something that none of us actually cared about.

"Act three," he muttered. "Let's read."

There was a collective groan from the class, and Marcus did not react in the slightest.

He just rubbed his eyes, exhaling slowly, like he was wondering how much trouble he'd get into if he just left us unsupervised for the next forty minutes.

Emmett, still leaning toward me slightly, muttered under his breath, "Do you think if we just sat here in silence long enough, he'd let us leave early?"

I smirked. "No, but he might die of boredom before the bell rings."

"Tempting."

Marcus closed his book abruptly, looking around at all of us with blank exhaustion.

"Alright," he said. "If we're going to make this tolerable, let's at least have fun with it. Who wants to read?"

Silence.

Not even the usual attention-seekers volunteered.

Marcus just nodded to himself. "That's what I thought."

Then, with zero hesitation, he pointed at Edward.

"Masen, you're Romeo."

Edward sighed loudly, tilting his head back toward the ceiling. "Of course, I am."

Marcus ignored him. "Rosalie, you're Juliet."

I immediately turned to glare at him.

"Are you serious?"

Marcus shrugged. "You want to switch?"

"Yes."

"Too bad."

I clenched my jaw, annoyed, but there was nothing I could do about it now.

I glanced at Edward, who was already watching me, his expression equal parts amused and resigned.

I rolled my eyes, grabbing my book aggressively. "Fine. Whatever. Let's get this over with."

Marcus nodded, then pointed lazily at Emmett.

"You're Mercutio."

Emmett grinned, clearly much happier with his role than I was with mine. "Hell yeah."

The rest of the roles were handed out randomly, and then, after another long, exhausted sigh, Marcus leaned back in his chair.

"Alright. Let's suffer through this together."

Edward read his lines like he was slowly dying inside, and I did absolutely nothing to make Juliet sound interested in him.

Which, to be fair, was probably the most realistic version of this play ever performed.

Emmett, on the other hand, got way too into it.

He read every line with dramatic flair, throwing in unnecessary hand gestures, and delivering his monologues like he was auditioning for a Broadway production.

I couldn't tell if he was doing it to mess with Marcus or if he was just having a good time, but either way, it was entertaining as hell.

At one point, he even stood up and pretended to dramatically collapse onto his desk after Mercutio's death scene.

Marcus didn't stop him.

Probably because he didn't care enough to.

Edward, still half-reading, half-mocking his own existence, barely glanced up from his book.

"You're enjoying this too much," he muttered toward Emmett.

Emmett grinned. "I don't half-ass things, Masen. Unlike some people."

Edward sighed dramatically, dragging a hand through his hair before reading his next line with peak disinterest.

"With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls…" He paused, then glanced at me with lazy amusement. "Wow. I sound like a desperate idiot."

I narrowed my eyes. "Well, at least you've got range."

Emmett snorted, and Marcus barely held back a sigh.

"Keep reading," Marcus muttered.

By the time we were halfway through the scene, I had mentally checked out completely.

Lauren had given up trying to get Edward's attention—probably because he had spent the last twenty minutes delivering Shakespearean love confessions to me instead of acknowledging her existence.

Leah looked like she wanted to throw herself out the window, and Jasper was silently shaking with laughter over something Jacob had muttered under his breath.

Finally, Marcus closed his book and rubbed his eyes aggressively.

"Alright. That's enough of that."

Emmett leaned toward me, grinning. "We were amazing."

I rolled my eyes, but even I had to admit, that was probably the most fun I'd had in this class.

Which wasn't saying much.

Marcus stood up, stretching slightly before gesturing toward the clock.

"Five minutes left," he muttered. "Do what you want. Just… be quiet."

Everyone immediately checked out, packing up their books and chatting quietly while Marcus leaned back in his chair like he was about to take a nap.

I turned to Emmett, crossing my arms. "So, am I invited to tomorrow's bathroom smoke circle, or do I still need a penis?"

He laughed. "I'll put in a good word for you."

I smirked.

"Better make it convincing."

Bella POV

I wasn't hungry, but I grabbed a tray anyway.

Mostly so that I had something to do with my hands, something to focus on other than the fact that I was about to spend an hour being dissected by a stranger.

Kate found me the second I stepped away from the line.

"Bella," she said, calm but firm, her voice giving me no option to refuse.

I turned, keeping my expression neutral. "It's that time already?"

She nodded, a small understanding smile on her lips. "It is."

I exhaled slowly, shifting the tray in my hands. "Lead the way."

The room was warmer than I expected.

Soft lighting, bookshelves filled with actual books instead of just clinical guides, a bizarre selection of seating options that didn't feel like the usual sterile furniture of a therapy office.

It was designed to be comfortable, which was probably the point.

It didn't work.

Kate sat across from me, calm and patient, watching as I set my tray on the desk.

I picked at the food, taking a few small bites just so she wouldn't comment on it.

She didn't.

Instead, she just folded her hands in her lap and tilted her head slightly.

"You know why you're here," she said, not a question, just a statement.

I nodded, swallowing a piece of bread that felt like it got stuck halfway down.

"Do you think you need to be here?"

I exhaled slowly, setting my fork down. "That's a complicated question."

Kate nodded. "That's a fair answer."

She paused, watching me carefully. Then, just as smoothly, she asked, "Do you want to be here?"

I scoffed. "Do you think I want to be here?"

Her lips tugged slightly, like she had expected that response. "I think some people come here because they want a change. Others because they're forced to. You seem like the latter."

I leaned back slightly, crossing my arms. "I didn't ask to be sent away, if that's what you're getting at."

Kate nodded like that was enough.

She kept it simple at first, asking the same questions she'd probably asked a hundred kids before me.

"Tell me about your family."

I gave her the basics.

Charlie was a disappointed exasperation in human form. Renee was soft and emotional, but useless against him.

"What emotions do you feel most often?"

"Frustration."

"Anything else?"

I hesitated, then sighed. "Tired."

She didn't push, just nodded, writing something down.

"Do you consider yourself more impulsive or controlled?"

"Controlled."

"Even when it comes to hurting yourself?"

I froze slightly.

That was the first real shift in questioning.

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "That depends on what you think control means."

Kate studied me, her gaze sharp but not unkind. "I think it means different things for different people."

I leaned forward slightly, resting my elbows on my knees, my voice cool.

"Then no," I said. "Not when it comes to that."

Kate adjusted slightly in her chair, crossing one leg over the other.

"Your mother wasn't very clear about how often it happens," she said, voice even. "How long have you been self-harming?"

I shifted my gaze to the tray, my stomach turning slightly.

"A while."

Kate nodded, waiting for me to elaborate.

I didn't.

After a moment, she asked, "What method do you use most often?"

That was such a clinical way to ask.

Like I was a case study, like this was a discussion on technique rather than a real problem.

I huffed a soft breath. "Razors, mostly."

Kate nodded again, not judging, just listening.

"And how often?"

I hesitated, then muttered, "Depends."

"On what?"

I exhaled through my nose. "How I feel. Whether I have what I need. If I think I can get away with it."

Kate was silent for a beat, considering that.

"Have you ever needed medical attention because of it?"

I shook my head immediately. "I'm not stupid."

She raised a brow. "That's not the same as an answer."

I sighed.

"Once," I admitted. "Sort of. I took care of it myself."

Kate made another note.

I picked up my fork again, pushing the food around my plate, but I wasn't hungry anymore.

She continued. "And the eating habits?"

I paused mid-motion, my grip tightening slightly on the fork.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Kate's lips pressed together slightly. "Your father mentioned that he's caught you purging more than once. Your mother was less specific."

I swallowed, forcing my expression blank.

"Well, he's full of shit," I muttered.

Kate sighed softly, watching me with careful patience. "Bella."

I set my fork down harder than necessary.

"It's not a big deal," I said. "I eat."

Kate didn't argue.

She just let the silence hang long enough to make me uncomfortable.

Then, finally, she looked me dead in the eyes and asked, "What do you want?"

I blinked.

It was such a simple question, but for some reason, it hit harder than the others.

What did I want?

To not be here.

To not feel like this.

To not be whatever broken thing they were all trying to fix.

But I didn't say any of that.

Instead, I just exhaled slowly, my voice quiet.

"I don't know."

Kate nodded like that was okay.

Like she already expected that answer.

And for some reason, that made my chest ache just a little more.

Kate closed her notebook, setting her pen down.

"That's enough for today," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "We'll pick up next time."

I nodded, standing before she could say anything else.

I grabbed my tray, leaving most of the food untouched, and headed for the door.

Kate didn't try to stop me.

But as I stepped out, I could still feel her watching me.

Like she knew there was still so much more I wasn't saying.

She was right...

But that didn't mean I was going to start talking.

I didn't even hesitate before dumping my mostly untouched tray into the return bin.

There was no point in pretending I was going to eat it later.

As I turned to leave, I nearly walked straight into Edward, who was heading toward the same bin with his own barely eaten meal.

He paused slightly, raising a brow. "Guess I'm not the only one skipping dinner."

I smirked. "Let me guess—you got dragged in to be therapized too?"

Edward let out a short breath, tipping his tray into the bin with no ceremony. "Yeah."

Then, after a pause, he added, "Honestly? Kind of a relief. Gave me an excuse to slip away from Lauren."

I huffed out a quiet laugh, nodding. "Yeah… I've noticed she's been a bit… enthusiastic."

Edward laughed too, but it was dry, almost exhausted. "That's one way to put it."

I tilted my head slightly, studying him. "So why not just take her up on the obvious offer?"

Edward frowned slightly. "Excuse me?"

I shrugged. "She's pretty. She's clearly interested. Could be fun."

He made a disgusted noise, shaking his head. "She's not my type."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what exactly is your type?"

Edward sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets as we started wandering toward the entrance hall. "I'm… not entirely sure, really." He glanced at me then, lips twitching slightly. "But definitely not Lauren."

I smirked. "Fair enough."

As we got closer to the main hall, the muffled sounds of shouting and laughter got louder.

I glanced toward the rec room entrance, where the door was propped open just enough to catch a glimpse of the rest of the boys crowded around the TV, their voices a mix of excited and frustrated as they fought over some game.

Tyler nearly fell off the couch laughing, while Emmett threw his hands up, shouting something about bullshit mechanics.

Edward followed my gaze, exhaling sharply through his nose.

I smirked. "Well, have fun."

He raised an eyebrow. "With what?"

I gestured toward the rec room. "With them."

Edward let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "You think I'm joining them?"

I shrugged. "You look like you could use some mindless distraction."

Edward gave me a look, but didn't argue.

Instead, he just asked, "And where are you going?"

"To my room," I said simply. "For some peace."

He smirked. "Anti-social much?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please. You just spent twenty minutes ranting about Lauren. If anything, I'm being polite by excusing myself before you decide I'm annoying too."

Edward laughed—a real laugh this time, not the dry, exasperated one he'd given earlier.

"I'll try to contain my judgment," he said.

"Good luck with that," I muttered, already turning toward the staircase.

Edward hesitated for half a second, then shook his head, wandering toward the rec room as I disappeared up the stairs.