CNN BROKE THE STORY FIRST.
I was glad it hit the news before I had to leave for school. I was anxious to hear how the humans would phrase the account, and what amount of attention it would garner. Luckily, it was a heavy news day. There was an earthquake in South America and a political kidnapping in the Middle East. So it ended up only earning a few seconds, a few sentences, and one grainy picture.
“Orlando Calderas Wallace, suspected murderer wanted in the states of Texas and Oklahoma, was apprehended last night in Portland, Oregon, thanks to an anonymous tip. Wallace was found unconscious in an alley early this morning, just a few yards from a police station. Officials are unable to tell us at this time whether he will be extradited to Houston or Oklahoma City to stand trial.”
The picture was unclear, a mug shot, and he’d had a thick beard at the time of the photograph. Even if Bella saw it, she would probably not recognize him. I hoped she wouldn’t; it would only frighten her needlessly.
“The coverage here in town will be light. It’s too far away to be considered of local interest,” Alice told me. “It was a good call to have Carlisle take him out of state.”
I nodded. Bella didn’t watch much TV regardless, and I’d never seen her father watching anything besides sports channels.
I’d done what I could. This repugnant creature no longer hunted, and I was not a murderer. Not recently, anyway. I’d been right to trust Carlisle, as much as I still wished the wretch had not gotten off quite so easily. I caught myself hoping he would be extradited to Texas, where the death penalty was so popular.
No. That didn’t matter. I would put this behind me and concentrate on what was most important.
I’d left Bella’s room less than an hour ago. I was already aching to see her again.
“Alice, do you mind—”
She cut me off. “Rosalie will drive. She’ll act pissed, but you know she’ll enjoy the excuse to show off her car.” Alice trilled a laugh.
I grinned at her. “See you at school.”
Alice sighed, and my grin became a glare.
I know, I know, she thought. Not yet. I’ll wait until you’re ready for Bella to know me. You should know, though, this isn’t just me being selfish. Bella’s going to like me, too.
I didn’t answer her as I hurried out the door. That was a different way of viewing the situation. Would Bella want to know Alice? To have a vampire for a girlfriend?
Knowing Bella, that idea probably wouldn’t bother her in the slightest.
I frowned to myself. What Bella wanted and what was best for Bella were two very separate things.
I started to feel uneasy as I parked my car in Bella’s driveway. The human adage said that things looked different in the morning—that things changed when you slept on them. Would I look different to Bella in the weak light of a foggy day? More or less sinister than I had in the blackness of night? Had the truth sunk in while she slept? Would she finally be afraid?
Her dreams had been peaceful, though, last night. When she’d spoken my name, time and time again, she’d smiled. More than once she’d murmured a plea for me to stay. Would that mean nothing today?
I waited nervously, listening to the sounds of her inside the house—the fast, stumbling footsteps on the stairs, the sharp rip of a foil wrapper, the contents of the refrigerator crashing against each other when the door slammed. It sounded as though she was in a hurry. Anxious to get to school? The thought made me smile, hopeful again.
I glanced at the clock. I supposed that—taking into account the velocity her decrepit truck must limit her to—she was running a little late.
Bella rushed out of the house, her book bag sliding off her shoulder, her hair coiled into a messy twist that was already coming apart on the nape of her neck. The thick green sweater she wore was not enough to keep her thin shoulders from hunching against the cold fog.
The long sweater was too big for her, unflattering. It masked her slender figure, turning all her delicate curves and soft lines into a shapeless jumble. I appreciated this almost as much as I wished that she had worn something more like the soft blue blouse she had on last night. The fabric had clung to her skin in such an appealing way, cut low enough to reveal the mesmerizing shape of her collarbones, curling out from the hollow of her throat. The blue had flowed like water along the subtle shape of her body.
It was better—essential—that I kept my thoughts far, far away from that shape, so I was grateful for the unbecoming sweater. I couldn’t afford to make mistakes, and it would be a monumental mistake to dwell on the strange hungers that thoughts of her lips… her skin… her body… were shaking loose inside me. Hungers that had evaded me for a hundred years. But I could not allow myself to think of touching her, because that was impossible.
I would break her.
Bella turned away from the door in such a hurry that she nearly ran right by my car without noticing it.
Then she skidded to a stop, her knees locking like a startled colt’s. Her bag slid farther down her arm, and her eyes flew wide as they focused on the car.
I got out, taking no care to move at human speed, and opened the passenger door for her. I would not try to deceive her anymore—when we were alone, at least, I would be myself.
She looked up at me, startled again as I seemingly materialized out of the fog. And then the surprise in her eyes changed to something else, and I was no longer afraid—or hopeful—that her feelings for me had changed in the course of the night. Warmth, wonder, fascination, all swam in the translucent depths of her eyes.
“Do you want to ride with me today?” I asked. Unlike dinner last night, I would let her choose. From now on, it must always be her choice.
“Yes, thank you,” she murmured, climbing into my car without hesitation.
Would it ever cease to thrill me that I was the one she was saying yes to?
I flashed around the car, eager to join her. She showed no sign of being shocked by my sudden reappearance.
The happiness I felt when she sat beside me this way had no precedent. As much as I enjoyed the love and companionship of my family, despite the various entertainments and distractions my world had to offer, I had never been happy like this. Even knowing that it was wrong, that this couldn’t possibly end well, could not keep the smile from my face for long when we were together.
My jacket was folded over the headrest of her seat. I saw her eyeing it.
“I brought the jacket for you,” I told her. This was my excuse, had I needed to provide one, for showing up uninvited this morning. It was cold. She had no jacket. Surely this was an acceptable form of chivalry. “I didn’t want you to get sick or something.”
“I’m not quite that delicate,” she said, staring at my chest rather than my face, as if she were hesitant to meet my eyes. But she put the coat on before I could resort to coaxing or begging.
“Aren’t you?” I muttered to myself.
She looked out at the road as I accelerated toward the school. I could only stand the silence for a few seconds. I had to know what her thoughts were this morning. So much had changed between us since the last time the sun was up.
“What, no twenty questions today?” I asked, keeping it light again.
She smiled, seeming glad that I’d broached the subject. “Do my questions bother you?”
“Not as much as your reactions do,” I told her honestly, smiling in response to hers.
Her mouth turned down. “Do I react badly?”
“No, that’s the problem. You take everything so coolly—it’s unnatural.” Not one scream so far. How could that be? “It makes me wonder what you’re really thinking.” Of course, everything she did or didn’t do made me wonder that.
“I always tell you what I’m really thinking.”
“You edit.”
Her teeth pressed into her lip again. She didn’t seem to notice when she did this—it was an unconscious response to tension. “Not very much.”
Just those words were enough to have my curiosity raging. What did she purposely keep from me?
“Enough to drive me insane,” I said.
She hesitated, and then whispered, “You don’t want to hear it.”
I had to think for a moment, run through our entire conversation last night, word for word, before I made the connection. Perhaps it took so much concentration because I couldn’t imagine anything that I wouldn’t want her to share with me. And then—because the tone of her voice was the same as last night; there was suddenly pain there again—I remembered. Once, I had asked her not to speak her thoughts. Never say that, I’d all but snarled at her. I had made her cry.…
Was this what she kept from me? The depth of her feelings about me? That my being a monster didn’t matter to her, and that she thought it was too late for her to change her mind?
I was unable to speak, because the joy and pain were too strong for words, the conflict between them too wild to allow for a coherent response. It was silent in the car except for the steady rhythms of her heart and lungs.
“Where’s the rest of your family?” she asked suddenly.
I took a deep breath—registering the scent in the car with true pain for the first time; I was getting used to this, I realized with satisfaction—and forced myself to be casual again.
“They took Rosalie’s car.” I parked in the open spot next to the car in question. I hid my smile as I watched her eyes grow round. “Ostentatious, isn’t it?”
“Um, wow. If she has that, why does she ride with you?”
Rosalie would have enjoyed Bella’s reaction… if she were being objective about Bella, which probably wouldn’t happen.
“Like I said, it’s ostentatious. We try to blend in.”
Of course, Bella was totally oblivious to the inherent contradiction of my own car. It was no accident we were most often seen in the Volvo—a car celebrated above all for its safety. Safety, the one thing vampires would never need from a vehicle. Few would recognize the less common racing edition, not to mention the aftermarket work we’d done.
“You don’t succeed,” she told me, and then she laughed a carefree laugh.
The blithe, wholly untroubled sound of her laughter warmed my hollow chest.
“So why did Rosalie drive today if it’s more conspicuous?” she wondered.
“Hadn’t you noticed? I’m breaking all the rules now.”
My answer should have been mildly frightening—so of course, Bella smiled at it.
Once out of the car, I walked as close to her as I dared, watching carefully for any sign that my proximity upset her. Twice her hand twitched toward me and she snatched it back. It looked like she wanted to touch me.… My breath sped.
“Why do you have cars like that at all? If you’re looking for privacy?” she asked as we walked.
“An indulgence,” I admitted. “We all like to drive fast.”
“Figures,” she mumbled, her tone sour.
She didn’t look up to see my answering grin.
Nuh-uh! I don’t believe this! How the hell did Bella pull this off?
Jessica’s mental boggling interrupted my thoughts. She was waiting for Bella, taking refuge from the rain under the edge of the cafeteria’s roof, with Bella’s winter jacket over her arm. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
Bella noticed her, too, in the next moment. A faint pink touched her cheek when Bella registered Jessica’s expression.
“Hey, Jessica. Thanks for remembering,” Bella greeted her. Jessica handed her the jacket wordlessly.
I would be polite to Bella’s friends, whether or not they were good friends. “Good morning, Jessica.”
Whoa…
Jessica’s eyes popped even wider, but she did not flinch or take a step back as I expected. Though she’d often found me alluring in the past, she’d always kept a safe distance before, the way all our admirers unconsciously did. It was strange and amusing… and, honestly, a bit embarrassing… to realize how much being near Bella had softened me. It seemed as though no one was afraid of me anymore. If Emmett found out about this, he would be laughing for the next century.
“Er… hi,” Jessica mumbled, and her eyes flashed to Bella’s face, full of significance. “I guess I’ll see you in Trig.”
You are so going to spill. Details. I have to have details! Edward freaking CULLEN!!
Bella’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, I’ll see you then.”
Jessica’s thoughts ran wild as she hurried to her first class, peeking back at us now and then.
The whole story. I’m not accepting anything less. Did they plan to meet up last night? Are they dating? How long? How could she keep this a secret? Why would she want to? It can’t be a casual thing—she has to be seriously into him. I will find out. I wonder if she’s made out with him? Oh, swoon.… Jessica’s thoughts were suddenly disjointed, and she let wordless fantasies swirl through her head. I winced at her speculations, and not just because she’d replaced Bella with herself in the mental pictures.
It couldn’t be like that. And yet I… I wanted…
I resisted making the admission, even to myself. In how many wrong ways would I want Bella? Which one would end up killing her?
I shook my head and tried to lighten up.
“What are you going to tell her?” I asked Bella.
“Hey!” she whispered fiercely. “I thought you couldn’t read my mind!”
“I can’t.” I stared at her, surprised, trying to make sense of her words. Ah—we must have been thinking the same thing at the same time. “However,” I told her, “I can read hers—she’ll be waiting to ambush you in class.”
Bella groaned, and then let the jacket slide off her shoulders. I didn’t realize that she was giving it back at first—I wouldn’t have asked for it; I would rather she kept it… a token—so I was too slow to offer her my help. She handed me the jacket and put her arms through her own.
“So, what are you going to tell her?” I pressed.
“A little help? What does she want to know?”
I smiled, and shook my head. I wanted to hear what she was thinking without a prompt. “That’s not fair.”
Her eyes tightened. “No, you not sharing what you know—now that’s not fair.”
Right—she didn’t like double standards.
“She wants to know if we’re secretly dating,” I said slowly. “And she wants to know how you feel about me.”
Her eyebrows shot up—not startled, but ingenuous now. Playing innocent.
“Yikes,” she murmured. “What should I say?”
“Hmmm.” She always tried to make me give away more than she did. I pondered how to respond.
A wayward lock of her hair, slightly damp from the fog, draped across her shoulder and curled around the place where her collarbone was hidden by the ridiculous sweater. It drew my eyes, pulled them across the other hidden lines.…
I reached for it carefully, not touching her skin—the morning was chill enough without my touch—and twisted it back into place in her untidy bun so that it wouldn’t distract me again. I remembered when Mike Newton had touched her hair, and my jaw flexed at the memory. She had flinched away from him then. Her reaction now was nothing the same; instead, there was a rush of blood under her skin, and a sudden, uneven thumping of her heart.
I tried to hide my smile as I answered her question.
“I suppose you could say yes to the first… if you don’t mind.” Her choice, always her choice. “It’s easier than any other explanation.”
“I don’t mind,” she whispered. Her heart had not found its normal rhythm yet.
“And as for her other question…” I couldn’t hide my smile now. “Well, I’ll be listening to hear the answer to that one myself.”
Let Bella consider that. I held back my laugh as shock crossed her face.
I turned quickly, before she could ask any more questions. I had a difficult time not giving her whatever she asked for. And I wanted to hear her thoughts, not mine.
“I’ll see you at lunch,” I called back to her over my shoulder, an excuse to check that she was still staring after me. Her mouth was hanging open. I turned again and laughed.
As I paced away, I was vaguely aware of the shocked and speculative thoughts that swirled around me—eyes bouncing back and forth between Bella’s face and my retreating figure. I paid them little attention. I couldn’t concentrate. It was hard enough to keep my feet moving at an acceptable speed as I crossed the soggy grass to my first class. I wanted to run—really run, so fast that I would disappear, so fast that it would feel like flying. Part of me was flying already.
I put the jacket on when I got to class, letting her fragrance swim thick around me. I would burn now—let the scent desensitize me—and it would be easier to ignore it later, when I was with her again at lunch.
It was a good thing that my teachers no longer bothered to call on me. Today might have been the day they caught me out, unprepared and answerless. My mind was in so many places this morning; only my body was in the classroom.
Of course I was watching Bella. That was becoming natural—as automatic as breathing, something I barely thought about consciously. I heard her conversation with a demoralized Mike Newton. She quickly directed the conversation to Jessica, and I grinned so wide that Rob Sawyer, who sat at the desk to my right, flinched visibly and slid deeper into his seat, away from me.
Ugh. Creepy.
Well, I hadn’t lost it entirely.
I was also loosely monitoring Jessica, watching her refine her questions for Bella. I could barely wait for fourth period, ten times as eager and anxious as the curious human girl who wanted fresh gossip.
And I was listening to Angela Weber.
I had not forgotten the gratitude I felt to her—for thinking nothing but kind things toward Bella in the first place, and then for her help last night. So I waited through the morning, looking for something she wanted. I assumed it would be easy; like any other human, she must desire some bauble or toy. Several, probably. I would deliver something anonymously and call us even.
But Angela proved almost as unaccommodating as Bella with her thoughts. She was oddly content for a teenager. Happy. Perhaps this was the reason for her unusual kindness—she was one of those rare people who had what she wanted and wanted what she had. If she wasn’t paying attention to her teachers and her notes, she was thinking of the twin little brothers she was taking to the beach this weekend—anticipating their excitement with almost maternal pleasure. She cared for them often, but was not resentful of this fact. It was very sweet.
But not really helpful to me.
There had to be something she wanted. I would just have to keep looking. But later. It was time for Bella’s Trigonometry class with Jessica.