Midnight Sun

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Midnight Sun Page 26

by Stephenie Meyer


  Jasper was not much happier.

  I'd deal with the others later. I only had so much time allotted to be to be with Bella, and I wasn't going to waste it. And hearing Alice had reminded me that I had some business to attend to.

  "I have another question for you," I said, tuning out Rosalie's mental hysterics.

  "Shoot," Bella said, smiling.

  "Do you really need to go to Seattle this Saturday, or was that just an excuse to get out of saying no to all your admirers?"

  She grimaced at me. "You know, I haven't forgiven you for the Tyler thing yet. It's your fault that he's deluded himself into thinking I'm going to prom with him."

  "Oh, he would have found a chance to ask you without me--I just really wanted to watch your face."

  I laughed now, remembering her aghast expression. Nothing I'd ever told her about my own dark story had ever made her look so horrified. The truth didn't frighten her. She wanted to be with me. Mind-boggling.

  "If I'd asked you, would you have turned me down?"

  "Probably not," she said. "But I would have cancelled later--faked an illness or a sprained ankle."

  How strange. "Why would you do that?"

  She shook her head, as if she was disappointed that I did not understand at once. "You've never seen me in gym, I guess, but I would have thought that you would understand."

  Ah. "Are you referring to the fact that you can't walk across a flat, stable surface without finding something to trip over?"

  "Obviously."

  "That wouldn't be a problem. It's all in the leading."

  For a brief fraction of a second, I was overwhelmed by the idea of holding her in my arms at a dance--where she would surely wear something pretty and delicate rather than this hideous sweater.

  With perfect clarity, I remembered how her body had felt under mine after I'd thrown her out of the way of the oncoming van. Stronger than the panic or the desperation or the chagrin, I could remember that sensation. She'd been so warm and so soft, fitting easily into my own stone shape...

  I wrenched myself back from the memory.

  "But you never told me--" I said quickly, preventing her from arguing with me about her clumsiness, as she clearly intended to do. "Are you resolved on going to Seattle, or do you mind if we do something different?"

  Devious--giving her a choice without giving her the option of getting away from me for the day. Hardly fair of me. But I had made her a promise last night...and I liked the idea of fulfilling it--almost as much as that idea terrified me.

  The sun would be shining Saturday. I could show her the real me, if I was brave enough to endure her horror and disgust. I knew just the place to take such a risk...

  "I'm open to alternatives," Bella said. "But I do have a favor to ask."

  A qualified yes. What would she want from me?

  "What?"

  "Can I drive?"

  Was this her idea of humor? "Why?"

  "Well, mostly because when I told Charlie I was going to Seattle, he specifically asked if I was going alone and, at the time, I was. If he asked again, I probably wouldn't lie, but I don't think he will ask again, and leaving my truck at home would just bring up the subject unnecessarily. And also, because your driving frightens me."

  I rolled my eyes at her. "Of all the things about me that could frighten you, you worry about my driving." Truly, her brain worked backwards. I shook my head, disgusted.

  Edward, Alice called urgently.

  Suddenly I was staring into a bright circle of sunlight, caught up in one of Alice's visions.

  It was a place I knew well, the place I'd just considered taking Bella--a little meadow where no one ever went beside myself. A quiet, pretty place where I could count on being alone--far enough from any trail or human habitation that even my mind could have peace and quiet.

  Alice recognized it, too, because she had seen me there not so long ago in another vision--one of those flickering, indistinct visions that Alice had shown me the morning I'd saved Bella from the van.

  In that flickering vision, I hadn't been alone. And now it was clear--Bella was with me there. So I was brave enough. She stared at me, rainbows dancing across her face, her eyes fathomless.

  It's the same place, Alice thought, her mind full of a horror that did not match the vision. Tension, perhaps, but horror? What did she mean, the same place?

  And then I saw it.

  Edward! Alice protested shrilly. I love her, Edward!

  I shut her out viciously.

  She didn't love Bella the way I did. Her vision was impossible. Wrong. She was blinded somehow, seeing impossibilities.

  Not even a half a second had passed. Bella was looking curiously at my face, waiting for me to approve her request. Had she seen the flash of dread, or had it been too quick for her?

  I focused on her, on our unfinished conversation, pushing Alice and her flawed, lying visions far from my thoughts. They didn't deserve my attention.

  I wasn't able to keep up the playful tone of our banter, though.

  "Won't you want to tell your father that you're spending the day with me?" I asked, darkness seeping into my voice.

  I shoved at the visions again, trying to push them farther away, to keep them from flickering through my head.

  "With Charlie, less is always more," Bella said, certain of this fact. "Where are we going, anyway?"

  Alice was wrong. Dead wrong. There was no chance of that. And it was just an old vision, invalid now. Things had changed.

  "The weather will be nice," I told her slowly, fighting the panic and indecision. Alice was wrong. I would continue as if I hadn't heard or seen anything. "So I'll be staying out of the public eye...and you can stay with me, if you'd like to."

  Bella caught the significance at once; her eyes were bright and eager. "And you'll show me what you meant, about the sun?"

  Maybe, like so many times before, her reaction would be the opposite of what I expected. I smiled at that possibility, struggling to return to the lighter moment. "Yes. But..." She hadn't said yes. "If you don't want to be...alone with me, I'd still rather you didn't go to Seattle by yourself. I shudder to think of the trouble you could find in a city that size."

  Her lips pressed together; she was offended.

  "Phoenix is three times bigger than Seattle--just in population. In physical size--"

  "But apparently your number wasn't up in Phoenix," I said, cutting off her justifications. "So I'd rather you stayed with me."

  She could stay forever and it would not be long enough.

  I shouldn't think that way. We didn't have forever. The passing seconds counted more than they ever had before; each second changed her while I remained untouched.

  "As it happens, I don't mind being alone with you," she said.

  No--because her instincts were backwards.

  "I know." I sighed. "You should tell Charlie, though."

  "Why in the world would I do that?" she asked, sounding horrified.

  I glared at her, the visions I couldn't quite manage to repress swirling Sickeningly through my head.

  "To give me some small incentive to bring you back," I hissed. She should give me that much--one witness to compel me to be cautious.

  Why had Alice forced this knowledge on me now?

  Bella swallowed loudly, and stared at me for a long moment. What did she see?

  "I think I'll take my chances," she said.

  Ugh! Did she get some thrill out of risking her life? Some shot of adrenaline she craved?

  I scowled at Alice, who met my glare with a warning glance. Beside her, Rosalie was glowering furiously, but I couldn't have cared less. Let her destroy the car. It was just a toy.

  "Let's talk about something else," Bella suggested suddenly.

  I looked back at her, wondering how she could be so oblivious to what really mattered. Why wouldn't she see me for the monster I was?

  "What do you want to talk about?"

  Her eyes darted to the left and t
hen the right, as if checking to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. She must be planning to introduce another myth-related topic. Her eyes froze for a second and her body stiffened, and then she looked back to me.

  "Why did you go to that Goat Rocks place last weekend...to hunt? Charlie said it wasn't a good place to hike, because of bears."

  So oblivious. I stared at her, raising one eyebrow.

  "Bears?" she gasped.

  I smiled wryly, watching that sink in. Would this make her take me seriously? Would anything?

  She pulled her expression together. "You know, bears are not in season," she said severely, narrowing her eyes.

  "If you read carefully, the laws only cover hunting with weapons."

  She lost control over her face again for a moment. Her lips fell open.

  "Bears?" she said again, a tentative question this time rather than a gasp of shock.

  "Grizzly is Emmett's favorite."

  I watched her eyes, seeing this settle in.

  "Hmm," she murmured. She took a bite of the pizza, looking down. She chewed thoughtfully, and then took a drink.

  "So," she said, finally looking up. "What's your favorite?"

  I supposed I should have expected something like that, but I hadn't. Bella was always interesting, at the very least.

  "Mountain lion," I answered brusquely.

  "Ah," she said in a neutral tone. Her heartbeat continued steady and even, as if we were discussing a favorite restaurant.

  Fine, then. If she wanted to act like this was nothing unusual...

  "Of course, we have to be careful not to impact the environment with injudicious hunting," I told her, my voice detached and clinical. "We try to focus on areas with an overpopulation of predators--ranging as far away as we need. There's always plenty of deer and elk here, and they'll do, but where's the fun in that?"

  She listened with a politely interested expression, as if I were a teacher giving a lecture. I had to smile.

  "Where indeed," she murmured calmly, taking another bite of pizza.

  "Early spring is Emmett's favorite bear season," I said, continuing with the lecture. "They're just coming out of hibernation, so they're more irritable."

  Seventy years later, and he still hadn't gotten over losing that first match.

  "Nothing more fun than an irritated grizzly bear," Bella agreed, nodding solemnly.

  I couldn't hold back a chuckle as I shook my head at her illogical calm. It had to be put on. "Tell me what you're really thinking, please."

  "I'm trying to picture it--but I can't," she said, the crease appearing between her eyes. "How to you hunt a bear without weapons?"

  "Oh, we have weapons," I told her, and then flashed her a wide smile. I expected her to recoil, but she was very still, watching me. "Just not the kind they consider when writing hunting laws. If you've ever seen a bear attack on television, you should be able to visualize Emmett hunting."

  She glanced toward the table where the others sat, and shuddered.

  Finally. And then I laughed at myself, because I knew part of me was wishing she would stay oblivious.

  Her dark eyes were wide and deep as she stared at me now. "Are you like a bear, too?" she asked in an almost-whisper.

  "More like the lion, or so they tell me," I told her, striving to sound detached again. "Perhaps our preferences are indicative."

  Her lips pulled up a tiny bit at the corners. "Perhaps," she repeated. And then her head leaned to the side, and curiosity was suddenly clear in her eyes. "Is that something I might get to see?"

  I didn't need pictures from Alice to illustrate this horror--my imagination was quite enough.

  "Absolutely not," I snarled at her.

  She jerked away from me, her eyes bewildered and frightened.

  I leaned back, too, wanting to put space between us. She was never going to see, was she? She wouldn't do one thing to help me keep her alive.

  "Too scary for me?" she asked, her voice even. Her heart, however, was still moving in double time.

  "If that were it, I would take you out tonight," I retorted through my teeth. "You need a healthy dose of fear. Nothing could be more beneficial for you."

  "Then why?" she demanded, undeterred.

  I glared at her blackly, waiting for her to be afraid, I was afraid. I could imagine only too clearly having Bella near when I hunted...

  Her eyes remained curious, impatient, nothing more. She waited for her answer, not giving in.

  But our hour was up.

  "Later," I snapped, and I rose to my feet. "We're going to be late."

  She looked around herself, disoriented, like she'd forgotten we were at lunch. Like she'd forgotten we were even at school--surprised that we were not alone in some private place. I understood that feeling exactly. It was hard to remember the rest of the world when I was with her.

  She got up quickly, bobbling once, and threw her bag over her shoulder.

  "Later, then," she said, and I could see the determination in the set of her mouth; she would hold me to that.

  * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  Complications

  Bella and I walked silently to biology. I was trying to focus myself on the moment, on the girl beside me, on what was real and solid, on anything that would keep Alice's deceitful, meaningless visions out of my head.

  We passed Angela Weber, lingering on the sidewalk, discussing an assignment with a boy from her Trigonometry class. I scanned her thoughts perfunctorily, expecting more disappointment, only to be surprised by their wistful tenor.

  Ah, so there was something Angela wanted. Unfortunately, it wasn't something that could be easily gift-wrapped.

  I felt strangely comforted for a moment, hearing Angela's hopeless yearning. A sense of kinship that Angela would never know about passed through me, and I was, in that second, at one with the kind human girl.

  It was oddly consoling to know that I wasn't the only one living out a tragic love story. Heartbreak was everywhere.

  In the next second, I was abruptly and thoroughly irritated. Because Angela's story didn't have to be tragic. She was human and he was human and the difference that seemed so insurmountable in her head was ridiculous, truly ridiculous compared to my own situation. There was no point in her broken heart. What a wasteful sadness, when there was no valid reason for her not to be with the one she wanted. Why shouldn't she have what she wanted? Why shouldn't this one story have a happy ending?

  I wanted to give her a gift... Well, I would give her what she wanted. Knowing what I did of human nature, it probably wouldn't even be very difficult. I sifted through the consciousness of the boy beside her, the object of her affections, and he did not seem unwilling, he was just stymied by the same difficulty she was. Hopeless and resigned, the way she was.

  All I would have to do was plant the suggestion...

  The plan formed easily, the script wrote itself without effort on my part. I would need Emmett's help--getting him to go along with this was the only real difficulty. Human nature was so much easier to manipulate than vampire nature.

  I was pleased with my solution, with my gift for Angela. It was a nice diversion from my own problems. Would that mine were as easily fixed.

  My mood was slightly improved as Bella and I took our seats. Maybe I should be more positive. Maybe there was some solution out there for us that was escaping me, the way Angela's obvious solution was so invisible to her. Not likely... But why waste time with hopelessness? I didn't have time to waste when it came to Bella. Each second mattered.

  Mr. Banner entered pulling an ancient TV and VCR. He was skipping through a section he wasn't particularly interested in--genetic disorders--by showing a movie for the next three days. Lorenzo's Oil was not a very cheerful piece, but that didn't stop the excitement in the room. No notes, no test-able material. Three free days. The humans exulted.

  It didn't matter to me, either way. I hadn't been planning on paying any attention to anything but Bella.

/>   I did not pull my chair away from hers today, to give myself space to breathe. Instead, I sat close beside her like any normal human would. Closer than we sat inside my car, close enough that the left side of my body felt submerged in the heat from her skin.

  It was a strange experience, both enjoyable and nerve-racking, but I preferred this to sitting across the table from her. It was more than I was used to, and yet I quickly realized that it was not enough. I was not satisfied. Being this close to her only made me want to be closer still. The pull was stronger the closer I got.

  I had accused her of being a magnet for danger. Right now, it felt like that was the literal truth. I was danger, and, with every inch I allowed myself nearer to her, her attraction grew in force.

  And then Mr. Banner turned the lights out.

  It was odd how much of a difference this made, considering that the lack of light meant little to my eyes. I could still see just as perfectly as before. Every detail of the room was clear.

  So why the sudden shock of electricity in the air, in this dark that was not dark to me? Was it because I knew that I was the only one who could see clearly? That both Bella and I were invisible to the others? Like we were alone, just the two of us, hidden in the dark room, sitting so close beside one another...

  My hand moved toward her without my permission. Just to touch her hand, to hold it in the darkness. Would that be such a horrific mistake? If my skin bothered her, she only had to pull away...

  I yanked my hand back, folded my arms tightly across my chest and clenched my hands closed. No mistakes. I'd promised myself that I would make no mistakes, no matter how minimal they seemed. If I held her hand, I would only want more--another insignificant touch, another move closer to her. I could feel that. A new kind of desire was growing in me, working to override my self-control.

  No mistakes.

  Bella folded her arms securely across her own chest, and her hands balled up into fists, just like mine.

  What are you thinking? I was dying to whisper the words to her, but the room was too quiet to get away with even a whispered conversation.

  The movie began, lightening the darkness just a bit. Bella glanced up at me. She noted the rigid way I held my body--just like hers--and smiled. Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes seemed full of warm invitations.

 

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