I FOLLOWED HER ALL DAY THROUGH OTHER PEOPLE’S EYES, BARELY aware of my own surroundings.
Not Mike Newton’s eyes, because I couldn’t stand any more of his offensive fantasies, and not Jessica Stanley’s, because her resentment toward Bella was irritating. Angela Weber was a good choice when her eyes were available. She was kind—her head was an easy place to be. And then sometimes it was the teachers who provided the best view.
I was surprised, watching Bella stumble through the day—tripping over cracks in the sidewalk, stray books, and, most often, her own feet—that the people I eavesdropped on thought of her as clumsy.
I considered that. It was true that she often had trouble staying upright. I remembered her stumbling into the desk that first day, sliding around on the ice before the accident, staggering against the low lip of the doorframe yesterday. How odd—they were right. She was clumsy.
I didn’t know why this was so funny to me, but I laughed out loud as I walked from American History to English and several people shot me wary glances, then looked away quickly from my exposed teeth. How had I never noticed this before? Perhaps because there was something very graceful about her in stillness, the way she held her head, the arch of her neck…
There was nothing graceful about her now. Mr. Varner watched as she caught the toe of her boot on the carpet and literally fell into her chair.
The time moved with incredible sluggishness while I waited for my chance to see her with my own eyes. Finally, the bell rang. I strode quickly to the cafeteria to secure my spot. I was one of the first in the room. I chose a table that was usually empty, and was sure to remain that way with me seated here.
When my family entered and saw me sitting alone in a new place, they were not surprised. Alice must have warned them.
Rosalie stalked past me without a glance.
Idiot.
Rosalie and I had never had an easy relationship—I’d offended her the very first time she’d heard me speak, and it was downhill from that point on—but it seemed as though she was even more ill-tempered than usual the last few days. I sighed. Rosalie made everything about herself.
Jasper gave me half a smile as he walked by.
Good luck, he thought doubtfully.
Emmett rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Lost his mind, poor kid.
Alice was beaming, her teeth shining too brightly.
Can I talk to Bella now??
“Keep out of it,” I said under my breath.
Her face fell, and then brightened again.
Fine. Be stubborn. It’s only a matter of time.
I sighed again.
Don’t forget about today’s Biology lab, she reminded me.
I nodded. It irked me that Mr. Banner had made these plans. I’d wasted so many hours in Biology, sitting next to her while pretending to ignore her; it was painfully ironic to me that I would miss that hour with her today.
While I waited for Bella to arrive, I followed her in the eyes of the freshman who was walking behind Jessica on his way to the cafeteria. Jessica was babbling about the upcoming dance, but Bella said nothing in response. Not that Jessica gave her much of a chance.
The moment Bella walked through the door, her eyes flashed to the table where my siblings sat. She stared for a moment, and then her forehead crumpled and her eyes dropped to the floor. She hadn’t noticed me here.
She looked so… sad. I felt a powerful urge to get up and go to her side, to comfort her somehow, only I didn’t know what she would find comforting. Jessica continued to jabber about the dance. Was Bella upset that she was going to miss it? That didn’t seem likely.
But if that were true… I wished I could offer her that option. Impossible. The physical proximity required by a dance would be too dangerous.
She bought a drink for her lunch and nothing else. Was that right? Didn’t she need more nutrition? I’d never paid much attention to a human’s diet before.
Humans were quite exasperatingly fragile! There were a million different things to worry about.
“Edward Cullen is staring at you again,” I heard Jessica say. “I wonder why he’s sitting alone today.”
I was grateful to Jessica—though she was even more resentful now—because Bella’s head snapped up and her eyes searched until they met mine.
There was no trace of sadness in her face now. I let myself hope that she’d felt unhappy because she’d thought I’d left school early, and that hope made me smile.
I motioned with my finger for her to join me. She looked so startled by this that I wanted to tease her again. So I winked, and her mouth fell open.
“Does he mean you?” Jessica asked rudely.
“Maybe he needs help with his Biology homework,” she said in a low, uncertain voice. “Um, I’d better go see what he wants.”
This was almost another yes.
She stumbled twice on her way to my table, though there was nothing in her way but perfectly even linoleum. Seriously, how had I missed this? I’d been paying more attention to her silent thoughts, I supposed. What else had I not seen?
She was almost to my new table. I tried to prepare myself. Keep it honest, keep it light, I chanted silently.
She stopped behind the chair across from me, hesitating. I inhaled deeply, through my nose this time rather than my mouth.
Feel the burn, I thought dryly.
“Won’t you sit with me today?” I asked her.
She pulled the chair out and sat, staring at me the whole while. She seemed nervous. I waited for her to speak.
It took a moment, but finally she said, “This is different.”
“Well…” I hesitated. “I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly.”
What had made me say that? I supposed it was honest, at least. And perhaps she’d hear the unsubtle warning my words implied. Maybe she would realize that she should get up and walk away as quickly as possible.
She didn’t get up. She stared at me, waiting, as if I’d left my sentence unfinished.
“You know I don’t have any idea what you mean,” she said when I didn’t continue.
That was a relief. I smiled. “I know.”
It was hard to ignore the thoughts screaming at me from behind her back—and I wanted to change the subject anyway.
“I think your friends are angry at me for stealing you.”
This did not appear to concern her. “They’ll survive.”
“I may not give you back, though.” I didn’t even know if I was trying to tease her again, or just being honest now. Being near her jumbled all my thoughts.
Bella swallowed loudly.
I laughed at her expression. “You look worried.” It really shouldn’t be funny. She should worry.
“No.” I knew this must be a lie; her voice broke, betraying her fraud. “Surprised, actually.… What brought all this on?”
“I told you,” I reminded her. “I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I’m giving up.” I held my smile in place with a bit of effort. This wasn’t working at all—trying to be honest and casual at the same time.
“Giving up?” she repeated, baffled.
“Yes—giving up trying to be good.” And, apparently, giving up trying to be casual. “I’m just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may.” That was honest enough. Let her see my selfishness. Let that warn her, too.
“You lost me again.”
I was selfish enough to be glad that this was the case. “I always say too much when I’m talking to you—that’s one of the problems.” A rather insignificant problem, compared to the rest.
“Don’t worry,” she reassured me. “I don’t understand any of it.”
Good. Then she’d stay. “I’m counting on that.”
“So, in plain English, are we friends now?”
I pondered that for a second. “Friends…,” I repeated. I didn’t like the sound of that. It wasn’t… enough.
“Or not,” she mumbled, looking embarrassed.
Did she think I didn’t like her that much?
I smiled. “Well, we can try, I suppose. But I’m warning you now that I’m not a good friend for you.”
I waited for her response, torn in two—wishing she would finally hear and understand, thinking I might die if she did. How melodramatic.
Her heart beat faster. “You say that a lot.”
“Yes, because you’re not listening to me,” I said, too intense again. “I’m still waiting for you to believe it. If you’re smart, you’ll avoid me.”
I could only guess at the pain I would feel when she understood enough to make the right choice.
Her eyes tightened. “I think you’ve made your opinion on the subject of my intellect clear, too.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, but I smiled in apology, guessing that I must have accidentally offended her.
“So,” she said slowly. “As long as I’m being… not smart, we’ll try to be friends?”
“That sounds about right.”
She looked down, staring intently at the lemonade bottle in her hands.
The old curiosity tormented me.
“What are you thinking?” I asked. It was an immense relief to say the words out loud at last. I couldn’t remember how it felt to need oxygen in my lungs, but I wondered if the relief of inhaling had been a little like this.
She met my gaze, and her breathing sped while her cheeks flushed faint pink. I inhaled, tasting that in the air.
“I’m trying to figure out what you are.”
I held the smile on my face, locking my features, while panic twisted through my body.
Of course she was wondering that. She had a bright mind. I couldn’t hope for her to be oblivious to something so obvious.
“Are you having any luck with that?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could manage.
“Not too much,” she admitted.
I chuckled with sudden relief. “What are your theories?”
They couldn’t be worse than the truth, no matter what she’d come up with.
Her cheeks turned brighter red, and she said nothing. I could feel the warmth of her blush.
I would try my persuasive tone. It worked well on normal humans.
I smiled encouragingly. “Won’t you tell me?”
She shook her head. “Too embarrassing.”
Ugh. Not knowing was worse than anything else. Why would her speculations embarrass her?
“That’s really frustrating, you know.”
My complaint sparked something in her. Her eyes flashed and her words flowed more swiftly than usual.
“No, I can’t imagine why that would be frustrating at all—just because someone refuses to tell you what they’re thinking, even if all the while they’re making cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering what they could possibly mean… now, why would that be frustrating?”
I frowned at her, upset to realize that she was right. I wasn’t being fair. She couldn’t know the loyalties and limitations that tied my tongue, but that didn’t change the disparity as she saw it.
She went on. “Or better, say that person also did a wide range of bizarre things—from saving your life under impossible circumstances one day to treating you like a pariah the next, and he never explained any of that, either, even after he promised. That, also, would be very non-frustrating.”
It was the longest speech I’d ever heard her make, and it gave me a new quality for my list.
“You’ve got a bit of a temper, don’t you?”
“I don’t like double standards.”
She was completely justified in her irritation, of course.
I stared at Bella, wondering how I could possibly do anything right by her, until the silent shouting in Mike Newton’s head distracted me. He was so irate, so immaturely vulgar, that it made me chuckle again.
“What?” she demanded.
“Your boyfriend seems to think I’m being unpleasant to you—he’s debating whether or not to come break up our fight.” I would love to see him try. I laughed again.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she said in an icy voice. “But I’m sure you’re wrong, anyway.”
I very much enjoyed the way she disowned him with one indifferent sentence.
“I’m not. I told you, most people are easy to read.”
“Except me, of course.”
“Yes. Except for you.” Did she have to be the exception to everything? “I wonder why that is?”
I stared into her eyes, trying again.
She looked away, then opened her lemonade and took a quick drink, her eyes on the table.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked.
“No.” She eyed the empty space between us. “You?”
“No, I’m not hungry,” I said. I was definitely not that.
She stared down, her lips pursed. I waited.
“Can you do me a favor?” she asked, suddenly meeting my gaze again.