I FELT ODDLY BUOYANT AS I WALKED FROM SPANISH toward the cafeteria, and it wasn’t just because I was holding hands with the most perfect person on the planet, though that was certainly part of it.
Maybe it was the knowledge that my sentence was served and I was a free woman again.
Or maybe it wasn’t anything to do with me specifically. Maybe it was the atmosphere of freedom that hung over the entire campus. School was winding down, and, for the senior class especially, there was a perceptible thrill in the air.
Freedom was so close it was touchable, taste-able. Signs of it were everywhere. Posters crowded together on the cafeteria walls, and the trashcans wore a colorful skirt of spilled-over fliers: reminders to buy yearbooks, class rings, and announcements; deadlines to order graduation gowns, hats, and tassels; neon-bright sales pitches — the juniors campaigning for class office; ominous, rose-wreathed advertisements for this year’s prom. The big dance was this coming weekend, but I had an ironclad promise from Edward that I would not be subjected to that again. After all, I’d already had that human experience.
No, it must be my personal freedom that lightened me today. The ending of the school year did not give me the pleasure it seemed to give the other students. Actually, I felt nervous to the point of nausea whenever I thought of it. I tried to not think of it.
But it was hard to escape such an omnipresent topic as graduation.
“Have you sent your announcements, yet?” Angela asked when Edward and I sat down at our table. She had her light brown hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail instead of her usual smooth hairdo, and there was a slightly frantic look about her eyes.
Alice and Ben were already there, too, on either side of Angela. Ben was intent over a comic book, his glasses sliding down his narrow nose. Alice was scrutinizing my boring jeans-and-a-t-shirt outfit in a way that made me self-conscious. Probably plotting another makeover. I sighed. My indifferent attitude to fashion was a constant thorn in her side. If I’d allow it, she’d love to dress me every day — perhaps several times a day — like some oversized three-dimensional paper doll.
“No,” I answered Angela. “There’s no point, really. Renée knows when I’m graduating. Who else is there?”
“How about you, Alice?”
Alice smiled. “All done.”
“Lucky you.” Angela sighed. “My mother has a thousand cousins and she expects me to hand-address one to everybody. I’m going to get carpal tunnel. I can’t put it off any longer and I’m just dreading it.”
“I’ll help you,” I volunteered. “If you don’t mind my awful handwriting.”
Charlie would like that. From the corner of my eye, I saw Edward smile. He must like that, too — me fulfilling Charlie’s conditions without involving werewolves.
Angela looked relieved. “That’s so nice of you. I’ll come over any time you want.”
“Actually, I’d rather go to your house if that’s okay — I’m sick of mine. Charlie un-grounded me last night.” I grinned as I announced my good news.
“Really?” Angela asked, mild excitement lighting her always-gentle brown eyes. “I thought you said you were in for life.”
“I’m more surprised than you are. I was sure I would at least have finished high school before he set me free.”
“Well, this is great, Bella! We’ll have to go out to celebrate.”
“You have no idea how good that sounds.”
“What should we do?” Alice mused, her face lighting up at the possibilities. Alice’s ideas were usually a little grandiose for me, and I could see it in her eyes now — the tendency to take things too far kicking into action.
“Whatever you’re thinking, Alice, I doubt I’m that free.”
“Free is free, right?” she insisted.
“I’m sure I still have boundaries — like the continental U.S., for example.”
Angela and Ben laughed, but Alice grimaced in real disappointment.
“So what are we doing tonight?” she persisted.
“Nothing. Look, let’s give it a couple of days to make sure he wasn’t joking. It’s a school night, anyway.”
“We’ll celebrate this weekend, then.” Alice’s enthusiasm was impossible to repress.
“Sure,” I said, hoping to placate her. I knew I wasn’t going to do anything too outlandish; it would be safer to take it slow with Charlie. Give him a chance to appreciate how trustworthy and mature I was before I asked for any favors.
Angela and Alice started talking about options; Ben joined the conversation, setting his comics aside. My attention drifted. I was surprised to find that the subject of my freedom was suddenly not as gratifying as it had been just a moment ago. While they discussed things to do in Port Angeles or maybe Hoquiam, I began to feel disgruntled.
It didn’t take long to determine where my restlessness stemmed from.
Ever since I’d said goodbye to Jacob Black in the forest outside my home, I’d been plagued by a persistent, uncomfortable intrusion of a specific mental picture. It popped into my thoughts at regular intervals like some annoying alarm clock set to sound every half hour, filling my head with the image of Jacob’s face crumpled in pain. This was the last memory I had of him.
As the disturbing vision struck again, I knew exactly why I was dissatisfied with my liberty. Because it was incomplete.
Sure, I was free to go to anywhere I wanted — except La Push; free to do anything I wanted — except see Jacob. I frowned at the table. There had to be some kind of middle ground.
“Alice? Alice!”
Angela’s voice yanked me from my reverie. She was waving her hand back and forth in front of Alice’s blank, staring face. Alice’s expression was something I recognized — an expression that sent an automatic shock of panic through my body. The vacant look in her eyes told me that she was seeing something very different from the mundane lunchroom scene that surrounded us, but something that was every bit as real in its own way. Something that was coming, something that would happen soon. I felt the blood slither from my face.
Then Edward laughed, a very natural, relaxed sound. Angela and Ben looked toward him, but my eyes were locked on Alice. She jumped suddenly, as if someone had kicked her under the table.
“Is it naptime already, Alice?” Edward teased.
Alice was herself again. “Sorry, I was daydreaming, I guess.”
“Daydreaming’s better than facing two more hours of school,” Ben said.
Alice threw herself back into the conversation with more animation than before — just a little bit too much. Once I saw her eyes lock with Edward’s, only for a moment, and then she looked back to Angela before anyone else noticed. Edward was quiet, playing absentmindedly with a strand of my hair.
I waited anxiously for a chance to ask Edward what Alice had seen in her vision, but the afternoon passed without one minute of alone time.
It felt odd to me, almost deliberate. After lunch, Edward slowed his pace to match Ben’s, talking about some assignment I knew he’d already finished. Then there was always someone else there between classes, though we usually had a few minutes to ourselves. When the final bell rang, Edward struck up a conversation with Mike Newton of all people, falling into step beside him as Mike headed for the parking lot. I trailed behind, letting Edward tow me along.
I listened, confused, while Mike answered Edward’s unusually friendly queries. It seemed Mike was having car troubles.
“. . . but I just replaced the battery,” Mike was saying. His eyes darted ahead and then back to Edward warily. Mystified, just like I was.
“Perhaps it’s the cables?” Edward offered.
“Maybe. I really don’t know anything about cars,” Mike admitted. “I need to have someone look at it, but I can’t afford to take it to Dowling’s.”
I opened my mouth to suggest my mechanic, and then snapped it shut again. My mechanic was busy these days — busy running around as a giant wolf.
“I know a few things — I could take a look, if you like,” Edward offered. “Just let me drop Alice and Bella at home.”
Mike and I both stared at Edward with our mouths hanging open.
“Er . . . thanks,” Mike mumbled when he recovered. “But I have to get to work. Maybe some other time.”
“Absolutely.”
“See ya.” Mike climbed into his car, shaking his head in disbelief.
Edward’s Volvo, with Alice already inside, was just two cars away.
“What was that about?” I muttered as Edward held the passenger door for me.
“Just being helpful,” Edward answered.
And then Alice, waiting in the backseat, was babbling at top speed.
“You’re really not that good a mechanic, Edward. Maybe you should have Rosalie take a look at it tonight, just so you look good if Mike decides to let you help, you know. Not that it wouldn’t be fun to watch his face if Rosalie showed up to help. But since Rosalie is supposed to be across the country attending college, I guess that’s not the best idea. Too bad. Though I suppose, for Mike’s car, you’ll do. It’s only within the finer tunings of a good Italian sports car that you’re out of your depth. And speaking of Italy and sports cars that I stole there, you still owe me a yellow Porsche. I don’t know that I want to wait for Christmas. . . .”
I stopped listening after a minute, letting her quick voice become just a hum in the background as I settled into my patient mode.
It looked to me like Edward was trying to avoid my questions. Fine. He would have to be alone with me soon enough. It was only a matter of time.
Edward seemed to realize that, too. He dropped Alice at the mouth of the Cullens’ drive as usual, though by this point I half expected him to drive her to the door and walk her in.
As she got out, Alice threw a sharp look at his face. Edward seemed completely at ease.
“See you later,” he said. And then, ever so slightly, he nodded.
Alice turned to disappear into the trees.
He was quiet as he turned the car around and headed back to Forks. I waited, wondering if he would bring it up himself. He didn’t, and this made me tense. What had Alice seen today at lunch? Something he didn’t want to tell me, and I tried to think of a reason why he would keep secrets. Maybe it would be better to prepare myself before I asked. I didn’t want to freak out and have him think I couldn’t handle it, whatever it was.
So we were both silent until we got to back to Charlie’s house.
“Light homework load tonight,” he commented.
“Mmm,” I assented.
“Do you suppose I’m allowed inside again?”
“Charlie didn’t throw a fit when you picked me up for school.”
But I was sure Charlie was going to turn sulky fast when he got home and found Edward here. Maybe I should make something extra-special for dinner.
Inside, I headed up the stairs, and Edward followed. He lounged on my bed and gazed out the window, seeming oblivious to my edginess.
I stowed my bag and turned the computer on. There was an unanswered e-mail from my mom to attend to, and she got panicky when I took too long. I drummed my fingers as I waited for my decrepit computer to wheeze awake; they snapped against the desk, staccato and anxious.
And then his fingers were on mine, holding them still.
“Are we a little impatient today?” he murmured.
I looked up, intending to make a sarcastic remark, but his face was closer than I’d expected. His golden eyes were smoldering, just inches away, and his breath was cool against my open lips. I could taste his scent on my tongue.
I couldn’t remember the witty response I’d been about to make. I couldn’t remember my name.
He didn’t give me a chance to recover.
If I had my way, I would spend the majority of my time kissing Edward. There wasn’t anything I’d experienced in my life that compared to the feeling of his cool lips, marble hard but always so gentle, moving with mine.
I didn’t often get my way.
So it surprised me a little when his fingers braided themselves into my hair, securing my face to his. My arms locked behind his neck, and I wished I was stronger — strong enough to keep him prisoner here. One hand slid down my back, pressing me tighter against his stone chest. Even through his sweater, his skin was cold enough to make me shiver — it was a shiver of pleasure, of happiness, but his hands began to loosen in response.
I knew I had about three seconds before he would sigh and slide me deftly away, saying something about how we’d risked my life enough for one afternoon. Making the most of my last seconds, I crushed myself closer, molding myself to the shape of him. The tip of my tongue traced the curve of his lower lip; it was as flawlessly smooth as if it had been polished, and the taste —
He pulled my face away from his, breaking my hold with ease — he probably didn’t even realize that I was using all my strength.
He chuckled once, a low, throaty sound. His eyes were bright with the excitement he so rigidly disciplined.
“Ah, Bella.” He sighed.
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
“And I should feel sorry that you’re not sorry, but I don’t. Maybe I should go sit on the bed.”
I exhaled a little dizzily. “If you think that’s necessary. . . .”
He smiled crookedly and disentangled himself.
I shook my head a few times, trying to clear it, and turned back to my computer. It was all warmed up and humming now. Well, not as much humming as groaning.
“Tell Renée I said hello.”
“Sure thing.”
I scanned through Renée’s e-mail, shaking my head now and then at some of the dippier things she’d done. I was just as entertained and horrified as the first time I’d read this. It was so like my mother to forget exactly how paralyzed she was by heights until she was already strapped to a parachute and a dive instructor. I felt a little frustrated with Phil, her husband of almost two years, for allowing that one. I would have taken better care of her. I knew her so much better.
You have to let them go their own way eventually, I reminded myself. You have to let them have their own life. . . .
I’d spent most of my life taking care of Renée, patiently guiding her away from her craziest plans, good-naturedly enduring the ones I couldn’t talk her out of. I’d always been indulgent with my mom, amused by her, even a little condescending to her. I saw her cornucopia of mistakes and laughed privately to myself. Scatterbrained Renée.
I was a very different person from my mother. Someone thoughtful and cautious. The responsible one, the grown-up. That’s how I saw myself. That was the person I knew.
With the blood still pounding in my head from Edward’s kiss, I couldn’t help but think of my mother’s most life-altering mistake. Silly and romantic, getting married fresh out of high school to a man she barely knew, then producing me a year later. She’d always promised me that she had no regrets, that I was the best gift her life had ever given her. And yet she’d drilled it into me over and over — smart people took marriage seriously. Mature people went to college and started careers before they got deeply involved in a relationship. She knew I would never be as thoughtless and goofy and small-town as she’d been. . . .
I gritted my teeth and tried to concentrate as I answered her letter.
Then I hit her parting line and remembered why I’d neglected to write sooner.
You haven’t said anything about Jacob in a long time, she’d written. What’s he up to these days?
Charlie was prompting her, I was sure.
I sighed and typed quickly, tucking the answer to her question between two less sensitive paragraphs.
Jacob is fine, I guess. I don’t see him much; he spends most of his time with a pack of his friends down at La Push these days.
Smiling wryly to myself, I added Edward’s greeting and hit “send.”
I didn’t realize that Edward was standing silently behind me again until after I’d turned off the computer and shoved away from the desk. I was about to scold him for reading over my shoulder when I realized that he wasn’t paying any attention to me. He was examining a flat black box with wires curling crookedly away from the main square in a way that didn’t look healthy for whatever it was. After a second, I recognized the car stereo Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper had given me for my last birthday. I’d forgotten about the birthday presents hiding under a growing pile of dust on the floor of my closet.
“What did you do to this?” he asked in a horrorstruck voice.
“It didn’t want to come out of the dashboard.”
“So you felt the need to torture it?”
“You know how I am with tools. No pain was inflicted intentionally.”
He shook his head, his face a mask of faux tragedy. “You killed it.”
I shrugged. “Oh, well.”
“It would hurt their feelings if they saw this,” he said. “I guess it’s a good thing that you’ve been on house arrest. I’ll have to get another one in place before they notice.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need a fancy stereo.”
“It’s not for your sake that I’m going to replace it.”
I sighed.
“You didn’t get much good out of your birthday presents last year,” he said in a disgruntled voice. Suddenly, he was fanning himself with a stiff rectangle of paper.
I didn’t answer, for fear my voice would shake. My disastrous eighteenth birthday — with all its far-reaching consequences — wasn’t something I cared to remember, and I was surprised that he would bring it up. He was even more sensitive about it than I was.
“Do you realize these are about to expire?” he asked, holding the paper out to me. It was another present — the voucher for airplane tickets that Esme and Carlisle had given me so that I could visit Renée in Florida.
I took a deep breath and answered in a flat voice. “No. I’d forgotten all about them, actually.”
His expression was carefully bright and positive; there was no trace of any deep emotion as he continued. “Well, we still have a little time. You’ve been liberated . . . and we have no plans this weekend, as you refuse to go to the prom with me.” He grinned. “Why not celebrate your freedom this way?”
I gasped. “By going to Florida?”
“You did say something about the continental U.S. being allowable.”
I glared at him, suspicious, trying to understand where this had come from.
“Well?” he demanded. “Are we going to see Renée or not?”
“Charlie will never allow it.”
“Charlie can’t keep you from visiting your mother. She still has primary custody.”
“Nobody has custody of me. I’m an adult.”
He flashed a brilliant smile. “Exactly.”
I thought it over for a short minute before deciding that it wasn’t worth the fight. Charlie would be furious — not that I was going to see Renée, but that Edward was going with me. Charlie wouldn’t speak to me for months, and I’d probably end up grounded again. It was definitely smarter not to even bring it up. Maybe in a few weeks, as a graduation favor or something.
But the idea of seeing my mother now, not weeks from now, was hard to resist. It had been so long since I’d seen Renée. And even longer since I’d seen her under pleasant circumstances. The last time I’d been with her in Phoenix, I’d spent the whole time in a hospital bed. The last time she’d come here, I’d been more or less catatonic. Not exactly the best memories to leave her with.
And maybe, if she saw how happy I was with Edward, she would tell Charlie to ease up.
Edward scrutinized my face while I deliberated.
I sighed. “Not this weekend.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to fight with Charlie. Not so soon after he’s forgiven me.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “I think this weekend is perfect,” he muttered.
I shook my head. “Another time.”
“You aren’t the only one who’s been trapped in this house, you know.” He frowned at me.
Suspicion returned. This kind of behavior was unlike him. He was always so impossibly selfless; I knew it was making me spoiled.
“You can go anywhere you want,” I pointed out.
“The outside world holds no interest for me without you.”
I rolled my eyes at the hyperbole.
“I’m serious,” he said.
“Let’s take the outside world slowly, all right? For example, we could start with a movie in Port Angeles. . . .”
He groaned. “Never mind. We’ll talk about it later.”
“There’s nothing left to talk about.”
He shrugged.
“Okay, then, new subject,” I said. I’d almost forgotten my worries about this afternoon — had that been his intention? “What did Alice see today at lunch?”
My eyes were fixed on his face as I spoke, measuring his reaction.
His expression was composed; there was only the slightest hardening of his topaz eyes. “She’s been seeing Jasper in a strange place, somewhere in the southwest, she thinks, near his former . . . family. But he has no conscious intentions to go back.” He sighed. “It’s got her worried.”
“Oh.” That was nothing close to what I’d been expecting. But of course it made sense that Alice would be watching out for Jasper’s future. He was her soul mate, her true other half, though they weren’t as flamboyant about their relationship as Rosalie and Emmett were. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I didn’t realize you’d noticed,” he said. “It’s probably nothing important, in any case.”
My imagination was sadly out of control. I’d taken a perfectly normal afternoon and twisted it until it looked like Edward was going out of his way to keep things from me. I needed therapy.
We went downstairs to work on our homework, just in case Charlie showed up early. Edward finished in minutes; I slogged laboriously through my calculus until I decided it was time to fix Charlie’s dinner. Edward helped, making faces every so often at the raw ingredients — human food was mildly repulsive to him. I made stroganoff from Grandma Swan’s recipe, because I was sucking up. It wasn’t one of my favorites, but it would please Charlie.