This news distracted me. "You were supposed to sell that. You promised Charlie you would." If I hadn't begged on Jake's behalf -- after all, he'd put weeks of labor into both motorcycles, and he deserved some kind of payback -- Charlie would have thrown my bike in a Dumpster. And possibly set that Dumpster on fire.
"Yeah, right. Like I would do that. It belongs to you, not me. Anyway, I'll hold on to it until you want it back."
A tiny hint of the smile I remembered was suddenly playing around the edges of his lips.
"Jake . . ."
He leaned forward, his face earnest now, the bitter sarcasm fading. "I think I might have been wrong before, you know, about not being able to be friends. Maybe we could manage it, on my side of the line. Come see me."
I was vividly conscious of Edward, his arms still wrapped protectively around me, motionless as a stone. I shot a look at his face -- it was calm, patient.
"I, er, don't know about that, Jake."
Jacob dropped the antagonistic facade completely. It was like he'd forgotten Edward was there, or at least he was determined to act that way. "I miss you every day, Bella. It's not the same without you."
"I know and I'm sorry, Jake, I just . . ."
He shook his head, and sighed. "I know. Doesn't matter, right? I guess I'll survive or something. Who needs friends?" He grimaced, trying to cover the pain with a thin attempt at bravado.
Jacob's suffering had always triggered my protective side. It was not entirely rational -- Jacob was hardly in need of any physical protection I could offer. But my arms, pinned beneath Edward's, yearned to reach out to him. To wrap around his big, warm waist in a silent promise of acceptance and comfort.
Edward's shielding arms had become restraints.
"Okay, get to class," a stern voice sounded behind us. "Move along, Mr. Crowley."
"Get to school, Jake," I whispered, anxious as soon as I recognized the principal's voice. Jacob went to the Quileute school, but he might still get in trouble for trespassing or the equivalent.
Edward released me, taking just my hand and pulling me behind his body again.
Mr. Greene pushed through the circle of spectators, his brows pressing down like ominous storm clouds over his small eyes.
"I mean it," he was threatening. "Detention for anyone who's still standing here when I turn around again."
The audience melted away before he was finished with his sentence.
"Ah, Mr. Cullen. Do we have a problem here?"
"Not at all, Mr. Greene. We were just on our way to class."
"Excellent. I don't seem to recognize your friend." Mr. Greene turned his glower on Jacob. "Are you a new student here?"
Mr. Greene's eyes scrutinized Jacob, and I could see that he'd come to the same conclusion everyone else had: dangerous. A troublemaker.
"Nope," Jacob answered, half a smirk on his broad lips.
"Then I suggest you remove yourself from school property at once, young man, before I call the police."
Jacob's little smirk became a full-blown grin, and I knew he was picturing Charlie showing up to arrest him. This grin was too bitter, too full of mocking to satisfy me. This wasn't the smile I'd been waiting to see.
Jacob said, "Yes, sir," and snapped a military salute before he climbed on his bike and kicked it to a start right there on the sidewalk. The engine snarled and then the tires squealed as he spun it sharply around. In a matter of seconds, Jacob raced out of sight.
Mr. Greene gnashed his teeth together while he watched the performance.
"Mr. Cullen, I expect you to ask your friend to refrain from trespassing again."
"He's no friend of mine, Mr. Greene, but I'll pass along the warning."
Mr. Greene pursed his lips. Edward's perfect grades and spotless record were clearly a factor in Mr. Greene's assessment of the incident. "I see. If you're worried about any trouble, I'd be happy to --"
"There's nothing to worry about, Mr. Greene. There won't be any trouble."
"I hope that's correct. Well, then. On to class. You, too, Miss Swan."
Edward nodded, and pulled me quickly along toward the English building.
"Do you feel well enough to go to class?" he whispered when we were past the principal.
"Yes," I whispered back, not quite sure if this was a lie.
Whether I felt well or not was hardly the most important consideration. I needed to talk to Edward right away, and English class wasn't the ideal place for the conversation I had in mind.
But with Mr. Greene right behind us, there weren't a lot of other options.
We got to class a little late and took our seats quickly. Mr. Berty was reciting a Frost poem. He ignored our entrance, refusing to let us break his rhythm.
I yanked a blank page out of my notebook and started writing, my handwriting more illegible than normal thanks to my agitation.
What happened? Tell me everything. And screw the protecting me crap, please.
I shoved the note at Edward. He sighed, and then began writing. It took him less time than me, though he wrote an entire paragraph in his own personal calligraphy before he slipped the paper back.
Alice saw that Victoria was coming back. I took you out of town merely as a precaution -- there was never a chance that she would have gotten anywhere close to you. Emmett and Jasper very nearly had her, but Victoria seems to have some instinct for evasion. She escaped right down the Quileute boundary line as if she were reading it from a map. It didn't help that Alice's abilities were nullified by the Quileutes' involvement. To be fair, the Quileutes might have had her, too, if we hadn't gotten in the way. The big gray one thought Emmett was over the line, and he got defensive. Of course Rosalie reacted to that, and everyone left the chase to protect their companions. Carlisle and Jasper got things calmed down before it got out of hand. But by then, Victoria had slipped away. That's everything.
I frowned at the letters on the page. All of them had been in on it -- Emmett, Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, and Carlisle. Maybe even Esme, though he hadn't mentioned her. And then Paul and the rest of the Quileute pack. It might so easily have turned into a fight, pitting my future family and my old friends against each other. Any one of them could have been hurt. I imagined the wolves would be in the most danger, but picturing tiny Alice next to one of the huge werewolves, fighting . . .
I shuddered.
Carefully, I scrubbed out the entire paragraph with my eraser and then I wrote over the top:
What about Charlie? She could have been after him.
Edward was shaking his head before I finished, obviously going to downplay any danger on Charlie's behalf. He held a hand out, but I ignored that and started again.
You can't know that she wasn't thinking that, because you weren't here. Florida was a bad idea.
He took the paper from underneath my hand.
I wasn't about to send you off alone. With your luck, not even the black box would survive.
That wasn't what I'd meant at all; I hadn't thought of going without him. I'd meant that we should have stayed here together. But I was sidetracked by his response, and a little miffed. Like I couldn't fly cross country without bringing the plane down. Very funny.
So let's say my bad luck did crash the plane. What exactly were you going to do about it?
Why is the plane crashing?
He was trying to hide a smile now.
The pilots are passed out drunk.
Easy. I'd fly the plane.
Of course. I pursed my lips and tried again.
Both engines have exploded and we're falling in a death spiral toward the earth.
I'd wait till we were close enough to the ground, get a good grip on you, kick out the wall, and jump. Then I'd run you back to the scene of the accident, and we'd stumble around like the two luckiest survivors in history.
I stared at him wordlessly.
"What?" he whispered.
I shook my head in awe. "Nothing," I mouthed.
I scrubbed out the disconc
erting conversation and wrote one more line.
You will tell me next time.
I knew there would be a next time. The pattern would continue until someone lost.
Edward stared into my eyes for a long moment. I wondered what my face looked like -- it felt cold, so the blood hadn't returned to my cheeks. My eyelashes were still wet.
He sighed and then nodded once.
Thanks.
The paper disappeared from under my hand. I looked up, blinking in surprise, just as Mr. Berty came down the aisle.
"Is that something you'd like to share there, Mr. Cullen?"
Edward looked up innocently and held out the sheet of paper on top of his folder. "My notes?" he asked, sounding confused.
Mr. Berty scanned the notes -- no doubt a perfect transcription of his lecture -- and then walked away frowning.
It was later, in Calculus -- my one class without Edward -- that I heard the gossip.
"My money's on the big Indian," someone was saying.
I peeked up to see that Tyler, Mike, Austin, and Ben had their heads bent together, deep in conversation.
"Yeah," Mike whispered. "Did you see the size of that Jacob kid? I think he could take Cullen down." Mike sounded pleased by the idea.
"I don't think so," Ben disagreed. "There's something about Edward. He's always so . . . confident. I have a feeling he can take care of himself."
"I'm with Ben," Tyler agreed. "Besides, if that other kid messed Edward up, you know those big brothers of his would get involved."
"Have you been down to La Push lately?" Mike asked. "Lauren and I went to the beach a couple of weeks ago, and believe me, Jacob's friends are all just as big as he is."
"Huh," Tyler said. "Too bad it didn't turn into anything. Guess we'll never know how it would have turned out."
"It didn't look over to me," Austin said. "Maybe we'll get to see."
Mike grinned. "Anyone in the mood for a bet?"
"Ten on Jacob," Austin said at once.
"Ten on Cullen," Tyler chimed in.
"Ten on Edward," Ben agreed.
"Jacob," Mike said.
"Hey, do you guys know what it was about?" Austin wondered. "That might affect the odds."
"I can guess," Mike said, and then he shot a glance at me at the same time that Ben and Tyler did.
From their expressions, none of them had realized I was in easy hearing distance. They all looked away quickly, shuffling the papers on their desks.
"I still say Jacob," Mike muttered under his breath.
4. NATURE
I WAS HAVING A BAD WEEK.
I knew that essentially nothing had changed. Okay, so Victoria had not given up, but had I ever dreamed for one moment that she had? Her reappearance had only confirmed what I'd already known. No reason for fresh panic.
In theory. Not panicking was easier said than done.
Graduation was only a few weeks away, but I wondered if it wasn't a little foolish to sit around, weak and tasty, waiting for the next disaster. It seemed too dangerous to be human -- just begging for trouble. Someone like me shouldn't be human. Someone with my luck ought to be a little less helpless.
But no one would listen to me.
Carlisle had said, "There are seven of us, Bella. And with Alice on our side, I don't think Victoria's going to catch us off guard. I think it's important, for Charlie's sake, that we stick with the original plan."
Esme had said, "We'd never allow anything to happen to you, sweetheart. You know that. Please don't be anxious." And then she'd kissed my forehead.
Emmett had said, "I'm really glad Edward didn't kill you. Everything's so much more fun with you around."
Rosalie had glared at him.
Alice had rolled her eyes and said, "I'm offended. You're not honestly worried about this, are you?"
"If it's no big deal, then why did Edward drag me to Florida?" I'd demanded.
"Haven't you noticed yet, Bella, that Edward is just the teeniest bit prone to overreaction?"
Jasper had silently erased all the panic and tension in my body with his curious talent of controlling emotional atmospheres. I'd felt reassured, and let them talk me out of my desperate pleading.
Of course, that calm had worn off as soon as Edward and I had walked out of the room.
So the consensus was that I was just supposed to forget that a deranged vampire was stalking me, intent on my death. Go about my business.
I did try. And surprisingly, there were other things almost as stressful to dwell on besides my status on the endangered species list. . . .
Because Edward's response had been the most frustrating of them all.
"That's between you and Carlisle," he'd said. "Of course, you know that I'm willing to make it between you and me at any time that you wish. You know my condition." And he had smiled angelically.
Ugh. I did know his condition. Edward had promised that he would change me himself whenever I wanted . . . just as long as I was married to him first.
Sometimes I wondered if he was only pretending that he couldn't read my mind. How else had he struck upon the one condition that I would have trouble accepting? The one condition that would slow me down.
All in all, a very bad week. And today was the worst day in it.
It was always a bad day when Edward was away. Alice had foreseen nothing out of the ordinary this weekend, and so I'd insisted that he take the opportunity to go hunting with his brothers. I knew how it bored him to hunt the easy, nearby prey.
"Go have fun," I'd told him. "Bag a few mountain lions for me."
I would never admit to him how hard it was for me when he was gone -- how it brought back the abandonment nightmares. If he knew that, it would make him feel horrible and he would be afraid to ever leave me, even for the most necessary reasons. It had been like that in the beginning, when he'd first returned from Italy. His golden eyes had turned black and he'd suffered from his thirst more than it was already necessary that he suffer. So I put on a brave face and all but kicked him out the door whenever Emmett and Jasper wanted to go.
I think he saw through me, though. A little. This morning there had been a note left on my pillow:
I'll be back so soon you won't have time to miss me. Look after my heart -- I've left it with you.
So now I had a big empty Saturday with nothing but my morning shift at Newton's Olympic Outfitters to distract me. And, of course, the oh-so-comforting promise from Alice.
"I'm staying close to home to hunt. I'll only be fifteen minutes away if you need me. I'll keep an eye out for trouble."
Translation: don't try anything funny just because Edward is gone.
Alice was certainly just as capable of crippling my truck as Edward was.
I tried to look on the bright side. After work, I had plans to help Angela with her announcements, so that would be a distraction. And Charlie was in an excellent mood due to Edward's absence, so I might as well enjoy that while it lasted. Alice would spend the night with me if I was pathetic enough to ask her to. And then tomorrow, Edward would be home. I would survive.
Not wanting to be ridiculously early for work, I ate my breakfast slowly, one Cheerio at a time. Then, when I'd washed the dishes, I arranged the magnets on the fridge into a perfect line. Maybe I was developing obsessive-compulsive disorder.
The last two magnets -- round black utilitarian pieces that were my favorites because they could hold ten sheets of paper to the fridge without breaking a sweat -- did not want to cooperate with my fixation. Their polarities were reversed; every time I tried to line the last one up, the other jumped out of place.
For some reason -- impending mania, perhaps -- this really irritated me. Why couldn't they just play nice? Stupid with stubbornness, I kept shoving them together as if I was expecting them to suddenly give up. I could have flipped one over, but that felt like losing. Finally, exasperated at myself more than the magnets, I pulled them from the fridge and held them together with two hands. It took a little effo
rt -- they were strong enough to put up a fight -- but I forced them to coexist side-by-side.
"See," I said out loud -- talking to inanimate objects, never a good sign -- "That's not so horrible, is it?"
I stood there like an idiot for a second, not quite able to admit that I wasn't having any lasting effect against scientific principles. Then, with a sigh, I put the magnets back on the fridge, a foot apart.
"There's no need to be so inflexible," I muttered.
It was still too early, but I decided I'd better get out of the house before the inanimate objects started talking back.
When I got to Newton's, Mike was methodically dry mopping the aisles while his mom arranged a new counter display. I caught them in the middle of an argument, unaware that I had arrived.
"But it's the only time that Tyler can go," Mike complained. "You said after graduation --"
"You're just going to have to wait," Mrs. Newton snapped. "You and Tyler can think of something else to do. You are not going to Seattle until the police stop whatever it is that is going on there. I know Beth Crowley has told Tyler the same thing, so don't act like I'm the bad guy -- oh, good morning, Bella," she said when she caught sight of me, brightening her tone quickly. "You're early."
Karen Newton was the last person I'd think to ask for help in an outdoor sports equipment store. Her perfectly highlighted blond hair was always smoothed into an elegant twist on the back of her neck, her fingernails were polished by professionals, as were her toenails -- visible through the strappy high heels that didn't resemble anything Newton's offered on the long row of hiking boots.
"Light traffic," I joked as I grabbed my hideous fluorescent orange vest out from under the counter. I was surprised that Mrs. Newton was as worked up about this Seattle thing as Charlie. I'd thought he was going to extremes.
"Well, er . . ." Mrs. Newton hesitated for a moment, playing uncomfortably with a stack of flyers she was arranging by the register.
I stopped with one arm in my vest. I knew that look.
When I'd let the Newtons know that I wouldn't be working here this summer -- abandoning them in their busiest season, in effect -- they'd started training Katie Marshall to take my place. They couldn't really afford both of us on the payroll at the same time, so when it looked like a slow day . . .
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