blood type

Mr. Mason, nay the whole class, looked up at me when I walked in late to English. My head was in such a daze that I didn't realize just how slow I was. Half-soaked through from standing out in the rain, I could feel their eyes wondering why I was so drenched in this ridiculously cold weather.

"Thank you for joining us, Mr Swan," Mr. Mason said in a disparaging tone of voice.

My face flushed and I hurried to my seat.

Shivering for half the class until the heat of the room warmed my body, I didn't realize right away that Makalya wasn't sitting in her usual seat beside me. If not for her answering a question, I wouldn't have known that she intentionally didn't sit by me. Guilt plucked at me; but, she and Erica met me at the door as usual, so I figured I wasn't totally unforgivable.

Makayla seemed to become more herself as we walked, gaining enthusiasm as she talked about the weather report for this weekend. The rain was supposed to take a minor break, and so maybe her planned beach trip this weekend would be possible. I tried too hard to sound eager in the hopes of making up for disappointing her yesterday. It wasn't genuine...rain or shine, it would only be in the high forties if we were lucky, and that really didn't entice me to want to go to a beach and splash around.

Just once Makayla asked if I was alright, no doubt noticing how soaked I'd been coming into class. When she did she paused by the door of my next class, hovering in front of it so I couldn't slip by her.

"Hey, Beau? What happened this morning?" Makayla slid one hand in her pocket and pursed her lips worriedly. "Did someone push you in a puddle or something?"

I laughed, too forced to be believable. "No, no. I tripped."

Much as I wished for the cleverness to come up with something less embarrassing, Makayla frowned with enough sympathy to reassure me that she believed my story instantly. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

My mouth awkwardly curled into a makeshift smile. "Just my pride."

Moving away from the door, Makayla smiled warmly at me. "I'm glad you're okay, then." With students wanting in the classroom, Makayla sent classmates apologetic looks for blocking traffic. "I'll see you later, Beau."

"See you, Makayla," I called after her in as friendly a tone as I could muster. Not wanting the growing line to keep staring at me, I bolted into my second period classroom and took my usual seat.

The rest of the morning passed by in a blur to me.

It was difficult for me to accept that I hadn't just imagined what Edward had said. Made up the way his eyes had looked in the florescent lights. Maybe this was just a really convincing, weird, dream that I'd confused with reality. When he held me after the van, I swore we had a connection. Today, he had sought me out, on purpose, to ask us to be alone.

Wait, we would be alone.

Oh no, we couldn't be – alone – together. Alone together.

Right before lunch, it hit me, and I couldn't focus on anything else. Why was he asking me to be alone? Did he not realize how much he effected me? Maybe I was giving him too much credit, and he just wanted to be friends and wasn't used to making friends? Yeah, that sounded reasonable; but, it didn't do anything to dispel the anxiety flushing through me. He was going to see me alone, which meant I was going to blush. – Flush into a red ball of goo – and he was going to laugh at me. Then be disgusted with me.

It seemed like the right thing to do, to go back to him and tell him I couldn't go, but then I would have to explain -why- I couldn't go, and nothing I could come up with sounded like a convincing enough reason. Why can't you go, Beau? Because you like me? I might as well trip down the stairs and go to the hospital to avoid going out with him, but his dad was the head surgeon there. Which meant Edward probably had free reign to find me in any hospital room and demand to know how I hurt myself.

I was so impatient and nervous about seeing him again that when Jeremy and I entered the Cafeteria I darted my eyes to the Cullen's table. Ignoring everything Jeremy was saying in my desperation to see Edward's face. Terrified that Edward would go back to being that cold, indifferent, person I'd known for the last several weeks. Jeremy babbled on and on about his dance plans – Logan and Allen had been asked by the other girls, and they were all going together – completely unaware that I wasn't listening anymore.

Disappointment flooded through me as my eyes unerringly focused on their table. The other four were there; but, Edward was gone. Had he gone home? Was he in the bathroom? Following the still-babbling Jeremy through the line on autopilot, my heart wrenched in my chest. It crushed me to see him gone and I lost whatever appetite I had. Buying a bottle of lemonade, for the sake of having something in my stomach, I just wanted to go sit down at one of the corner tables and sulk.

Jeremy pinched my arm, though, and I turned away from watching the Cullen's table to look at him.

"Beau, what is he doing here?" Jeremy asked, almost accusing me with his tone, and in confusion I turned to look at our usual table and froze.

Edward was sitting alone at our table and when he saw us notice him he raised his hand to wave his fingers in a perfect flourish of movement. When that didn't work, he gestured with his pointer finger – straight at me – in a weirdly knee-melting come-hither motion. As though to make it glaringly obvious that he wanted me to come sit with him.

"I-I don't know," I sputtered to Jeremy, who was – for once – rendered speechless.

Jeremy, for some reason, looked like the flesh might melt off of his face. Logan was soon standing next to him with an equally unpleasant expression on his face. Both of them, clearly, did -not- want Edward there. Maybe because he was so handsome? Were they worried that he would steal the attention of the girls? It seemed to be a genuine concern, and Logan confirmed my suspicions as he hissed a comment loud enough for me to hear.

"Ugh, why the hell is he at our table?" He gagged, and Jeremy laughed. "If he so much as looks at Taylor, I swear to God, I will jam my boot into his foot."

Really uncomfortable hearing my 'friends' talk so venomously about Edward, I had to say something, and I turned to look at them with concern on my face. "Come on, guys, he's my friend."

The glare of befuddled venom being pinned directly at my face made me flush uncomfortably. Too upset to my stomach to speak, I just awkwardly pushed past them, paid for my lemonade, and walked to our table.

Edward sat up when I approached, as if all too eager to see me, but he seemed to be waiting for me to say something. So mesmerized by the wistful look in his eyes, my tongue swelled up and I couldn't bring myself to say anything. The silence stretched on and on before he finally spoke. It felt like everyone in the cafeteria was staring at us, and I couldn't tell if the room was silent or loud from all the blood rushing in my ears.

"Good afternoon. I thought I would join you, today. If your friends don't mind?" Edward asked, and I looked over at Jeremy and Logan. They obviously minded, but were too proud to admit it.

"Sure, why don't you join us..." Jeremy muttered, sitting down beside Logan, away from Edward and I.

I didn't want to sit too close to Edward, so I sat across from him. Feeling others sitting next to me, Allen was on my left, and Makayla was on my right.

Both of them were too stunned to say anything, even eat. Not that I could either…

Edward watched the awkward and uncomfortable silence stretch on until another person scooted into the seat beside him. With surprise, I took in Alice's warm eyes and cheerful features as she giggled to break the ice.

"Goodness, it's so cold today!" Alice teased, and I looked beside me to see that Makayla was stunned. Her mouth was hanging open in complete confusion to why two gorgeous Cullens were sitting at our table.

Which unfortunately worsened the scowl on Jeremy's face, and he kept staring at Logan with secret, sharp, looks. Maybe he was even glaring at me instead of Edward; but, I wasn't looking his way anymore. Edward just kept staring at me, saying nothing, and Alice seemed to be gaily amused at the response of the table.

"Y-yeah, cold," I finally blubbered, blinking too much from how stupid that comment was.

Alice turned to Jeremy, perhaps on purpose, with a glowing smile. "So, I hear you're going with Makayla to the Spring Dance. Maybe we could all carpool? My father has a coupon to rent a limousine," she said, swaying back and forth, almost like a ballerina snake that was plotting something mischievous.

Jeremy blinked, stunned. The idea of being in a limo was clearly too pleasant an idea to stay mad at this change in seating arrangements, and he looked over at Logan – who looked eager, but, suspicious.

Unable to talk, probably because Alice and Edward were gorgeous, Makayla kept staring forward at Alice in shock.

"Really? A limo?" Jeremy parroted. "I mean, that would be cool; but, you know this is just the spring dance, right? Limos are more for Prom..."

Alice giggled then, shaking her head playfully to let her pixie hair float like strands of silk around her face. "I suppose you're right; but, I am awfully excited about this dance. I've been trying to get Edward to go, but he doesn't have a date."

The hate that burned off Edward's face as he looked at Alice could have melted the polar ice caps. Desperate to rescue him before all the girls who joined us at the table garnered the courage to ask him out, I intervened.

"Who says he needs a date? If he wants to go, he doesn't need a woman to go," Edward's affectionate eyes found me, and I felt my stomach knot. "Besides, everyone here already has a date."

Alice giggled again, grinning sheepishly as she opened a can of Pepsi and seemingly took a drink. When the can was set down, it was just as full as when she'd opened it, unless I was imagining things.

Somewhere in my heart I knew that a small part of Taylor, Makayla, and Erica wished they had been single – even though my gut instinct told me that they wouldn't have been bold enough to ask out Edward Cullen. When I turned to look at Makayla, to my right, she looked mortified.

"Hey, you okay?"

Makayla blinked, snapping back to reality. "What?"

Jeremy scowled loudly enough that my eyes snapped in his direction before I turned to look back at Makayla, who was sending Jeremy an apologetic look.

"I went to plenty of dances at my old school, Alice. Besides, I already made plans that Saturday," Edward mentioned, and fear rippled through me as Alice grinned like a naughty Keebler elf – clearly knowing all about this morning somehow.

Oh no…

Alice wasn't going to out me in front of all these kids was she? Feeling sick, I looked down at my lemonade and reluctantly opened it to have a means to distract myself.

"Beau's going to Seattle on Saturday and his truck doesn't have good mileage, so I offered him a ride," Edward said, and I instantly relaxed. Even if I did have a sinking feeling that Makayla and Taylor were kicking themselves for not having thought of asking me first. Unable to deny my curiosity, I looked, and Taylor was scowling. Makayla seemed to be scowling too, but there was nothing they could do or say now without risking the loss of their dance partners.

Jeremy relaxed, at least enough to pleasantly smile at Alice. "Well, if the offers still on the table, I can give you my number; but, there's no pressure."

"Y-yeah w-we don't need a limo," Allen squeaked.

Erica felt inclined to go sit between Allen and Jeremy, and Allen seemed to glow behind his glasses. So, naturally, Jeremy started looking at Makayla as though hoping she would do the same. She didn't get the message, as she was moodily stabbing her food with a plastic fork.

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at the merry mess around me, even though all I felt able to do was hold my opened bottle of lemonade in my palms. It took everything I had not to constantly stare at Edward's perfect face so no one would notice how much I wanted to stare at him. Occasionally, when I thought no one was looking, I flicked my eyes to meet Edward's gaze. Bathing in the scintillating feeling of his eyes searching my face before I pretended to be interested in someone else or my lemonade.

Everyone seemed to warm up to Alice, not that there was anything that wasn't exceptionally kind and wonderful about her. It might have something to do with the fact that Alice had a boyfriend when Edward didn't have a girlfriend. Jasper Hale, the boyfriend in question, looked like he was grimacing in pain whenever I stole a peek at their family table to see if he was looking our way.

I couldn't help myself from wondering why he didn't come join us. After all, he always sat next to Alice during lunchtime and there was room enough for him to sit beside her. He looked so wary whenever his eyes met my own, so concerned when his gaze turned toward Edward. He spent the whole lunch period muttering constantly to his sister Rosalie. The gorgeous, tall, honey-blonde girl who glared at me, at her siblings, with more and more intensity the longer lunch went on.

It started to make me uncomfortable, nervous, and honestly a little terrified. I couldn't understand why she kept giving venomous looks our way. Sometimes her boyfriend, Emmett, laughed heartily and pushed Rosalie's shoulder to try and make her laugh, but it only seemed to sour her mood further.

I might have kept staring at Rosalie's glaring and Jasper's concern, if not for feeling something brush against my foot under the table. Turning my head back around, Edward had a questioning look on his face as I peeked under the table to see his black Doc Martin ankle boot tapping against my sneaker. Just barely brushing his foot against mine, his jeans hiding half his boot from view.

Why was Edward playing footsies with me? Did he want to reach out and touch me? Or did he say something and I missed it? Did the reason really matter?

When I flushed, Alice spoke again, maybe on purpose to distract my friends from noticing how red my face had become. "So, the bell is about to ring. I'll see if my dad can reserve us a limo for the dance, and get back to you tomorrow," Alice said warmly as she stood, took her can of Pepsi – which was still full to the brim – and tossed it gracefully in the trash.

Edward looked at me while everyone else seemed to be pouting that Alice was gone and promising to save her a seat for tomorrow. I couldn't bear to look away, but I knew that would draw attention to us, so I forced myself to stare into the bottle of my half drunk lemonade.

"Beau, are you ready to go?"

My eyes raised, watching Edward's radiant irises. "Yeah, sure."

Walking beside Edward as we left the cafeteria, hands in my pockets, we walked fairly close to each other. He didn't brush against me and I tried not to brush against him. Not sure how to process what felt like the longest, most exhilarating, lunch period I could remember having.

"So," I started, in an effort to break the silence. "What made you want to sit at our table today?"

He slowed his pace, thinking before he answered. "I thought if I asked you to sit with me, your friends would want revenge for stealing you."

My eyes lingered on his black doc martin boots poking out from under his jeans, trailed up past his white sweater, and finally settled back on his face. "I think your family wants revenge, instead," I said as a joke, but it failed to hide my concern.

He stopped walking. "You'll have to forgive my siblings. We don't usually make new friends, and it's strange for them. Alice is fond of you, though, she thinks you're a good influence on me."

I stopped, too. "Am I?"

His mouth curled into his devilish half-grin. "No, probably not."

Edward laughed and I joined him, starting to walk slowly toward Biology again.

"But then, I figure if I'm going to hell, I may as well do it thoroughly."

He stopped walking then, a serious look in his eyes as his perfect teeth nibbled apprehensively on his bottom lip. I found myself staring, biting my own lip unconsciously before his eyes were too great a pull to ignore. His words made no sense to me, or they made so much sense I couldn't face them, either way – I feared what they meant. He looked like he was trying to tell me something, and waiting desperately for me to answer him back. Confusing me to no end, consciously or not.

"What do you mean?"

Disappointment molded Edward's expression, rendering him morose, and I felt guilty that I didn't give the answer he must have been hoping to hear. The ache was gone so fast, however, that I wasn't sure if I had imagined his pained look. He chuckled wryly as he lightly tapped his foot against the back of my calve, spurring us to start walk again.

"I mean," He began. "That if I did invite you to sit with me, there's no guarantee I'd give you back."

Worriedly, I gulped, not wanting to have to explain that to my school-friends. Or have everyone staring at us. I couldn't bear to ask what he meant again, even though I desperately wanted to know. People were walking beside us to get to their classes, and the idea of being seen with my heart on display in public terrified me.

"S-so, what brought all this on?" I asked with trepidation, trying to feign that I didn't know what he was getting at. Deep down I couldn't fathom that what he was saying might be signs of a mutual affection – Edward Cullen couldn't possibly like me back the same way. He couldn't possibly obsess over someone like me.

"You asked to hang out," he grinned. "I thought that was hanging out?"

My face colored, burning bright red from embarrassment. "Oh, yeah, it was."

Edward reached out with a chuckle, tapping the tip of my nose gently with his artist's fingers. "You are so perfectly absurd, sometimes."

"So, I guess that means we're friends, now?"

Edward grinned, curling his lips darkly at me. "Well, we can try, I suppose. But, I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you." He spoke with warmth in his eyes; but, behind his smile the warning was genuine.

My heart squeezed in my chest, trying desperately to understand what he meant. "You know, you say that a lot, Edward, and you have yet to explain what that means."

Trying to ignore the sudden trembling in my fingers, my stomach, the bell rang – to my great disappointment – and Edward dodged the question by rushing into Biology.

Hurrying inside after him and taking my seat, Edward sat as far as he could from me, like he usually did. With fluid prickling at my eyes, I took that to mean that maybe, just maybe, he would become indifferent again and ignore me. The idea alone cut deep inside me; but, once his books were out, he began writing in his notebook. His perfectly elegant script scribbling words down as Mr. Banner stood and began writing on the white-board. I didn't realize he was writing something for me until he slid his notebook between us and waited expectantly. Turning my head, I leaned over to scan what he had penned.

'It means, if you're smart, you'd avoid me.'

Taking my pencil, I carefully slid his notebook in front of me, pretended to watch the white board as I scribbled back a reply.

'Clearly, I'm not very smart.'

Setting my pencil back down, my left hand slowly slid the notebook back to Edward's side of the lab desk table. He perused it for a moment before he opened his expensive-looking fountain pen and scribbled another reply.

'You should give yourself more credit than that. Outside of me, you're the most intelligent person in this room.'

Thinking it would be too suspicious to keep passing a notebook back and forth, I opened my notebook, wrote a line in answer, and turned it enough for Edward to see what I wrote.

'Even Mr. Banner?'

Edward just smiled, curling his mouth in that devastating half-grin. My knees felt weak, toes curled inward, and my mouth fumbled badly in trying to disguise my dorky smile as an irritated scowl. Getting the idea, he wrote his reply on his side of the paper, all while keeping his eyes on the whiteboard to give the impression of taking notes.

'I wasn't including the teachers, but since you asked, probably not. You have the IQ for Biology, but he has a better handle on his temper than you do.'

As if he expected my cheeks to blow up like a puffer fish, he smirked with satisfaction when he saw my eyes narrow. The only reason I was even mad at him was because he refused to be honest with me! What right did he have to tease me? Angered, I scribbled a reply with less care than I'd been making to try and force my handwriting to be legible.

'I know you could kill me if you wanted to. You're strong enough to stop a van, stopping me would be nothing. I still want to be your friend, but friends are honest with each other and you're not being completely honest with me.'

Sliding my notebook toward Edward, he looked at it for a long moment before he took his pen and purposefully blotted out my line faster than I could react to stop him. With one long swipe of his comely pen my statement was gone.

Exasperated from surprise, I glared at him, and he was narrowing his eyes sternly at me in return. Oh, heaven forbid we write about that!

He didn't exchange another note with me after that, only flipped to a new page and actually recorded notes from Mr. Banner's lecture. Disinterested, desperate to continue this discussion and not be shut out -again- I finally wrote down another line and pushed it toward him.

'Please, I need to know how you saved me.'

Edward didn't look at my notebook for almost five minutes, and when he did, he just narrowed his eyes at me and continued taking notes from the white board.

Furious, I tore the page from my notebook, crumpled it up into a ball, and tossed it at him when I thought he wasn't looking.

His left hand caught my paper sphere without batting an eye, even though he was fully invested in taking notes with his right hand. Not even looking up from his notes as he callously tossed it into the wastebasket by Mr. Banner's desk.

Why didn't he want to tell me! Why couldn't he tell me?! Who was I really going to tell?! So he had super powers! What was so bad about that? Did he have an alter ego he was trying to protect? My brain tried to imagine Edward in a super hero outfit, but it did nothing to soothe my irritation.

Frustrated and angry, I huffed and turned away from him, scrawling worthless notes in my own notebook on whatever nonsense Mr. Banner was explaining.

Assuming he would ignore me for the rest of class, again, when I felt his foot tap gently against my own under the table my mouth narrowed into a flat line. Hating how wonderful it felt to be in any way acknowledged by him, I glared hard as I turned to look at him. His eyes were apologetic, and I felt almost sorry that I needed to know how he saved me as badly as I did. Why even bother with getting my attention if he wasn't going to tell me the truth?

Scribbling out another line at the bottom of my sheet, I pointed my notebook toward him so he had no excuse not to see my question.

'I'm going to find out eventually, so why don't you just tell me now? Are you scared I won't be your friend anymore? Because I really don't care how you did it. I want you to be honest with me'

Edward moved his pen, blotting out that line too. I didn't stop him, not that I could with his fast, stupidly perfect, hand. He replaced it with something underneath, scribbled in an elegant flourish of beautiful letters.

'Now is hardly opportune, Beau. Can you please desist for the time thus?'

Sighing, exasperated, that answer was enough to satisfy me for now, so I turned to a new page for notes; nodding to him in answer.

Mr. Banner kept talking, explaining more on the lesson oblivious to our secret conversation. Edward had stopped taking notes, in fact, he had shoved his notebook into his backpack and started to raise his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen?"

He smiled with a strange amount of timidity to his tone. "Mr. Banner, you asked me to remind you when I need to go to the Office?"

He looked at the clock and then nodded. "Ah, yes, have a good day, Edward."

Confused, as he was leaving class a half hour early, I could only watch him vanish from our desk and disappear out the classroom door with anguish. Where was he going? Why did he need to go to the office?

"Which reminds me of your assignment, today, class," Mr. Banner brought up as he bent down to pick up a bunch of cardboard boxes I hadn't noticed on the floor. He set the boxes down on Makayla's table, in the front row, telling her to start passing them around the class.

"Okay everyone, I want you to take one piece from each box," he said as he produced a pair of rubber gloves from the pocket of his lab jacket and pulled them on. The sharp sound of the gloves snapping into place against his wrists felt altogether too ominous. "The first item should be an indicator card," he went on, grabbing a white card with four scales marked on it, and displayed it up for everyone to see.

"The second is a four-pronged applicator" – he held up something that looked like a nearly toothless hair pick – "and the third is a sterile micro-lancet." He held up a small piece of blue plastic and split it open. The barb was invisible from the distance between us; but, my stomach flipped. I knew what a lancet was, my grandma Rosemary had been diabetic.

"I'll be coming around with a dropper of water to prepare your cards, so please don't start until I get to you." He began at Makayla's table again, carefully putting one drop of water in each of the four squares.

"Then I want you to carefully prick your finger with the lancet," Mr. Banner grabbed Makayla's hand and jabbed the tiny spike into the side of Makayla's middle finger.

Clammy moisture broke out across my forehead, and I was desperately wishing that Edward hadn't ditched me.

"Place a small drop of blood on each of the four prongs," he demonstrated, squeezing Makayla's finger until the blood flowed like a red raindrop. I swallowed convulsively, my stomach heaving from the sight and smell of blood.

"And then apply the prongs to the card," he finished, holding the dripping red card for all of us to see. I slammed my eyes shut, trying desperately to hear through the loud ringing in my ears.

"The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I thought you all should know your blood type." Mr. Banner sounded so proud of his thoughtfulness that I was completely floored with nausea. Face flat against the cold desk as I hid my head in my arms as much as I humanly could.

Mr. Banner continued through the room with his water drops, and all around me I could hear squealing – complaints or giggles, as my classmates skewered themselves. I breathed as slowly as I could like a drugged goldfish.

"Beau? Are you alright?" Mr. Banner asked. His alarmed voice was so close to my head that it startled me.

"I-I already know my blood type, Mr. Banner," I squeaked in a weak voice, too embarrassed to raise my head from my arms.

"Are you feeling woozy?"

"I-I am," I muttered, wishing I could have had the balls and psychic powers to ditch this class when I had the chance.

"Can you walk?"

"Yes," I whispered to Mr. Banner; so overwhelmed by the smell, squeals, and remembrance of fresh blood that if I was going to be allowed to leave – I would be willing to crawl to the nurse's office.

"Can someone take Beau to the nurse, please?" He called out, and I didn't need a crystal ball to know it would be Makalya who volunteered to save me.

Makayla seemed far too eager as she put her arm around my waist and tugged my arm over her shoulder. Leaning against her as much as I could, we made our way out of the classroom. Utterly humiliated, but desperate not to throw up and make it worse, once I was out of the classroom I began to hyperventilate.

Makayla towed me slowly across campus; but, when we were around the edge of the cafeteria – out of sight of building four in case Mr. Banner was watching us through the window, I stopped walking.

"Please, just let me sit here a second,' I begged, and she helped me sit on the edge of the cement pathway, against the cafeteria's front side. "And whatever you do, keep your finger in your pocket."

"Wow, you're green," Makalya chortled nervously. "Do you need me to-"

"Beau?" A different voice interrupted from the distance. A rich velvet voice – a familiar, angelic, voice – and my heart was gripped with terror.

No! Please let me be imagining that voice! Edward could not see me like this!

"Beau! What's wrong?" – I saw his black Doc Martin boots turn to walk toward Makalya – "Is he hurt?" His voice was closer now, and he sounded upset. I wasn't imagining him, he was here – seeing me all green and pale – and I just wanted to die. In the very least, it would be better than throwing up in front of him, which was the most likely thing about to happen if anyone tried to touch me right now.

Makayla seemed to be stressed out at Edward's strong concern for whatever reason. "I think he fainted in class, I don't know what happened. He didn't even stick his finger."

I felt Edward drop to the concrete ground beside me, heard his voice right near my ear; relief in his voice. "Beau? Can you hear me?"

Soft fingers brushed through my hair, sending electricity through me, almost distracting me from how sick I felt. Yet, I couldn't answer. I was too mortified to admit that I was awake. Too afraid that if I opened my eyes, he would stop running his long, lithe, fingers through my hair.

"I was taking him to the nurse, but he wanted to sit down a minute."

"You've been very kind, Makalya, but I can take him the rest of the way," Edward urged, the relief so prominent in his voice that I knew instinctively that he was smiling.

"No," Makalya protested, and it angered me. "I'm supposed to do it, Mr. Banner is counting on me," she said, and suddenly what little I could see through my lashes disappeared from view. My eyes flew open in shock, only to see Edward gazing down at me. He carried me so easily, even though he wasn't much larger than I was. He just scooped me up like I weight ten pounds and cradled me softly against his chest. His hair a crown of golden bronze around his head; gently stirring in the mild breeze like a renaissance painting.

Unable to resist, even if I wanted to, my head rested against his shoulder. My eyes watching him stare at Makalya indignantly, not even listening to her protests as he carried me toward the office.

"Hey! Stop!" Makayla called, and Edward ignored her.

Unfortunately moving at all made my stomach lurch, and I clutched my hand against his shoulder as hard as I could; desperate and pleading to God that I not throw up all over his white turtleneck sweater.

"You look terrible," Edward whispered worriedly to me, only looking at me now that he had successfully whisked me away from a confused and irritated Makalya. It was so nice to be in his arms, but my pride was stronger. I couldn't bear for him to know how much I loved this – being so close to him, being held by his strangely powerful arms. I felt so safe, so cared for, but I knew I shouldn't feel this way – he shouldn't know how fast he made my heart race or how I worried I might die from the joy inside me.

"P-Put me down, please, I can walk..."

Edward didn't want to, and for a moment he pursed his lips like he was going to say no. "Alright, but lean against me, okay?"

I nodded, and he set me down gently. I had to hold his waist not to trip, but soon he was supporting my weight with his arm. My entire body weight didn't seem to bother him at all.

"So," he began, smirking at me. "You faint at the sight of blood?" The thought seemed to amuse him.

Too proud to answer, I just glared mildly at him and closed my eyes again. Fighting against the nausea with all my strength as I clamped my lips tightly together.

"And not even your own blood," he tsk'd quietly, enjoying himself as we moved. I don't know how he opened the office door while supporting me, but it was suddenly warm – so I knew we weren't outside anymore.

"He fainted in Biology," Edward explained to someone, and I could feel the scream burn inside my head from embarrassment.

Opening my eyes, with shame, Edward strode us past the front counter toward the nurse's door. Ms. Cope, the redheaded front office receptionist, ran ahead of him to hold the door open. The matronly older nurse looked up from some kind of romance novel, astonished, as Edward swung me into the room and placed me gently on the crackly paper that covered a single medical cot. I felt unbearably lonely when he moved again to stand against the wall, as far from myself and the cot as possible. His eyes, bright and excited, both annoyed and reassured me.

"He's just a little faint," Edward reassured the startled nurse, to my chagrin. "They were blood-typing in Biology."

How did he know that? Makayla hadn't told him they were blood-typing.

The nurse chuckled, setting down her novel and shaking her head. "There's always one."

Edward muffled a snicker, badly, and I glared weakly at him.

"Just stay down for a few minutes, dearie; it'll pass," the nurse advised.

"I know." The nausea was already fading, and I sighed in exasperation.

"Does this happen often?" She asked.

"Sometimes," I admitted, and I could hear Edward cough to hide another laugh.

"You can go back to class, now," The nurse said to Edward, and my stomach knotted up at the idea of him leaving me here.

"I'm supposed to stay with him, Brenda," Edward replied with such an assured authority to his tone, that even through the nurse pursed her lips – she didn't argue with him.

Relief flooded through me, which helped the nausea wane considerably. He wasn't leaving. Fresh air seemed to fill my lungs for the first time, and I breathed slowly, soothed enough to close my eyelids.

"I'll go get you some ice for your forehead, dearie," The nurse said to me as I opened my eyes again, watching her bustle out of the room.

Alone, blessedly alone, everything in me wanted to reach out toward Edward to bid him close to me. I resisted, if only because this whole situation was already like a 'damsel in distress situation' enough for one day. What was he going to think about me? Some pathetic, needy, thing that had to be coddled all the time? Screw that, even though there was a lot of evidence to the contrary…

"You scared me for a minute there," Edward admitted after a pause. His tone made it sound like he was confessing something humiliating, and without thinking I raised my hand toward him. He came closer, still shaking his head at himself. "I thought Makayla was dragging your dead body off to go bury it in the woods."

A laugh escaped me, my eyes closing when the familiar sharp zing of electricity flooded through me. His freakishly cold fingers a relief to feel tangling with my own. "Very funny."

"I've seen corpses with more color to their face, I was concerned that I might have to avenge your murder," he joked, and it worked to cheer me. Who knew if he really -had- seen corpses before, but, given his dad was a surgeon, that didn't sound off to me at the time.

My thoughts strayed to Makalya, who had watched the boy she liked be scooped up by a guy and carried away. Her ego must have been crushed. "Poor Makalya, I bet she's upset..."

Edward smirked, even though my eyes were closed, I could feel it. "Oh, she truly loathes me," he mentioned with absolute, cheerful, confidence.

"You can't know that," I countered playfully. "But I bet her ego is pretty bruised right now."

His soft hands wrapped around my own, and I might have been imagining it, but it felt like they were trembling. "Does that bother you? I didn't take you as the type to enjoy being rescued."

Gently shaking my head, I opened my eyes to watch him pull a chair next to me with his foot and sit down beside me. "I don't enjoy hurting anyone."

He smiled at me, something mischievous tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Sometimes being blunt and forthcoming is the best way to help someone."

I snorted and gave him a look. "Oh, you mean like ignoring me for a month?"

He looked struck, and both of us hardened our eyes at each other. I thought he was going to drop my hands, but he only squeezed them a little tighter for a moment.

"I'm really not good for you, Beau. But, I…can't stay away from you anymore." he lingered on the last word as though trying to will himself to say more.

Wishing I could keep pretending I didn't want him beside me, I couldn't force what bliss I felt to morph into disgust. There was only so much time before one, or both of us, ended this friendship. Desperate to change the subject before he had a chance to leave, I bit my lip and realized something.

"You left class earlier, to go to the office, what were you doing?"

"Nothing of any great consequence."

The scowl on my mouth was so strong that my jaw began to throb. "Please, tell me?"

He sheepishly grinned at the look on my face. "I may have lied to Mr. Banner."

My brows furrowed. "Why?"

He snickered at me. "I saw the boxes, knew what they were, and I decided to ditch class."

Surprise filled me as I watched him, mouth agape. "You ditched class?"

He chuckled again. "You say that like it's impossible."

Shaking my head, I shrugged, looking down at his hand and brushing my thumb over his own. "I didn't take you as a rebel."

Edward rolled his eyes, tickling my fingers with his own in a quick flicker of movement. "If I could have thought of a reason to bring you with me, I would have. Especially knowing how easily you faint at the sight of blood."

"Smell," I corrected.

This amused him, and he grinned at me wickedly. "The smell, then."

"Where were you? If you were ditching."

He smirked, shrugging playfully. "I was in my car listening to music. Makayla was carrying you, and…"

Wait a minute. The parking lot was quite a distance from the Biology classroom, how could he see me from there?

Before I could ask, Edward dropped my hands and leaned back into the chair. My hands stayed in the position they had been in, as though if I was good and didn't move a muscle, then he might move his hands into my own again.

When I finally had the courage to ask why he moved away from me, the door opened, and I saw the nurse returning with a cold compress in her hand.

"Here you are, dearie," Brenda said as she laid it across my forehead; smiling at me. "My, you're looking much better, now."

"I'm okay," I countered, resting my hand against the compress. After all, I didn't want the older lady to have just wasted her time fetching me ice. However, soon the door opened again, and Ms. Cope stuck her head into the room.

"Brenda, we've got another one."

Edward chuckled as he moved to stand next to me, and unable to deny myself I reached for his hand – feeling my fingers zing again once my skin was reunited with the blessed zap of his cold touch. Squeezing his icy fingers, he helped me stand up from the cot, only to let go of my hand. Despair washed through me, even though I could swear that he didn't want to let me go, either. Edward helped me move to stand against the wall, touching me as little as possible, as a sallow-looking Lee Stephens was carried into the room.

Makayla, setting Lee down on the fresh-paper covered cot, momentarily snapped her eyes toward Edward. The look, alone, could have slashed holes in his flesh.

Edward suddenly whispered to me: "Go out to the office, Beau."

I looked at him; bewildered.

"Trust me – go."

Spinning on my heels as fast as I could without tripping, I caught the door before it closed and darted out into the infirmary. I could sense Edward behind me, even though he wasn't touching me.

He chuckled; stunned. "I'm surprised you listened to me."

"I smelled the blood," I replied, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"Usually, people can't smell blood," he contradicted.

"Well, maybe it's all in my head; but, I swear I can. It smells like rust and salt." He was staring at me with an unfathomable expression on his face. One that made me freeze and just stare at him.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing," he assured me.

Makayla came through the door, then, glancing from me to Edward. The loathing having returned to her face. I found myself giving her an apologetic look when she gazed back to me, from the weight of sadness in her eyes.

"You look better," she almost seemed to be accusing me with her words.

"So long as you keep your hand in your pocket, Makalya," I warned her, as playfully as I could.

"It's not bleeding anymore," Makalya muttered. "Are you coming back to class?"

I glanced at the clock, without really reading it. "Sure, if I want to faint again and come right back?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess." Makayla said, shaking her head at herself.

"There's only about five minutes left of class, Makalya," Edward countered gently, and I watched Makayla's face harden into a line. She did not need to feel more stupid than she already felt, and for some reason I felt like Edward was going out of his way to make her feel worse.

Makayla snapped her attention back to me, without saying anything to him. "Are you coming this weekend? To the beach?" she asked, and while she spoke she completely ignored Edward – who was standing against the cluttered counter, motionless as a statue, and staring off into space.

I tried to sound as friendly as I could. "Sure, I said I would go."

"We're meeting at my dad's store, at ten, you know where it is?" Makayla asked, her eyes once again flicking back to Edward. As though she was worried she was revealing too much information out loud and he might decide to show up.

"I'll be there," I promised.

"Great, do you want to head to Gym now?" Makayla asked, moving without certainty toward the door – which she held open in an almost territorial way. I didn't understand it, and maybe Makalya didn't understand it either, but then, her ego had been crushed earlier…

"I'll meet you there, Makalya," I promised without sincerity.

Makayla grimaced from some kind of anger, but she didn't say anything as she let the door close and walked away. Probably upset that I didn't have any interest in spending time alone with her. Which I didn't; but, it still hurt to know I was crushing her.

"Ugh, Gym." I groaned, looking at Edward. Hoping we could avoid talking about the elephant in the room, how weird Makalya was being.

"I can take care of that," his velvet voice piped up softly beside me, sending sweet shivers of surprise everywhere at once. How hadn't I noticed him move close to me again? "Go sit down and look pale."

That wasn't a challenge, I was always pale, and my recent swoon had left a light green sheen of sweat across my face. Sitting down in one of the creaky folding chairs, I rested my head against the wall with my eyes closed. Fainting spells always exhausted me.

Edward spoke softly at the counter. "Ms. Cope?"

"Yes?" I hadn't heard her return to her desk, she must not have been typing.

"Beau has Gym next period and he doesn't feel quite well enough for the venture. I deem it best I drive him home so he can rest." His voice was like melting honey. I could only imagine how much more overwhelming his eyes would be if he used that magnetic voice on me.

"Do you need to be excused, too, Edward?" Ms. Cope blinked, as though smitten or under some kind of spell. Why couldn't I do that to people?

"Yes, if you please. I have Mrs. Goff – she won't mind."

"I'm not supposed to allow this" – Ms. Cope anxiously glanced my way – "is your father his doctor?"

Edward nodded with a pleasing hum thrumming from his lips, and the lie unsettled me for some reason.

"Alright, it's all taken care of," Ms. Cope said before she looked at me. "You feel better, Beau," she called to me, and I nodded weakly. Playing up my weakness just a little bit.

Edward walked over to me with something mischievous on his face. "Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you again?" With his back to the receptionist, his expression became even more sarcastic.

"I can walk," I insisted, trying not to reveal any snark in my voice as I stood, only to realize something.

"Wait. My bag, I left it in Biology..."

"I can fetch your bag when we get to the truck," He reassured, and walked beside me with his hands in his jean pockets.

Edward held the door open for me, which I didn't mind, his smile polite even though his eyes were still teasing me. Walking out into the cold, fine, mist that had just begun to fall.

For the first time – the rain felt nice. The constant moisture falling out of the sky washed my face clean of sticky perspiration, and it reminded me of how it felt to hold Edward's hand. He was here, near me, wanting to be close to me – and it made the rain strangely wonderful.

"Thanks, by the way," I started walking a bit slower than usual. "It's almost worth getting sick to miss Gym."

He stared straight forward, squinting into the rain as he replied. "Anytime."

"So, are you going? This Saturday, I mean?" I asked, hoping he would reconsider going to La Push. Just hoping that he might come to the beach with us was the first twinge of enthusiasm I felt for going.

"I think, after today, Makalya definitely won't be okay if I tagged along," the thought hurt me when he said it, because we both knew it was true.

"I think she'll get over it," I said, and Edward stopped looking ahead expressionlessly to mildly smirk at me.

"Perhaps we shouldn't press Makalya any further this week. I think if we deliver further blows to her ego, she'll crumble under the strain." His eyes danced; he was enjoying the idea of crushing her, and I didn't quite understand why.

"Makayla-schmakayla," I muttered playfully, too preoccupied by the way he said' to come up with anything better to say. I liked the sound of that little word far more than I knew I should.

We were in the parking lot, now, and out of habit I veered left toward my truck. Only for something to catch my jacket and stop me from walking further.

"Where are you going?" He asked indignantly. His hand holding a fistful of my jacket hostage. Thankfully not so tightly that I couldn't breathe.

I pointed toward th Beast. "I parked over there."

He grimaced, cringing even, at my old truck. "I had hoped we might take my car."

"Is there something wrong with my truck?" I asked, gently pulling at the hand holding onto my jacket, which he reluctantly let go of with a scowl on his face. If he loathed my truck, he didn't say so.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you drive, right now," he admitted with enough concern in his voice that my irritation vanished.

I sighed, thinking of a compromise. "Then you can drive the Beast, but if I don't take him home, my dad is going to get suspicious."

He arched one eyebrow at me. "You named your truck 'The Beast'?"

Snorting with mock annoyance, I scoffed a sigh under my breath and shook my head. "What? It fits."

Sighing, Edward shook his head at me, only to slide his hands into his pockets and gesture toward my truck with a nod. We walked toward him then, and the quiet walk was comforting. For a minute, I thought I was feeling better and might have been able to save face after the fainting spell – if not for my foot having a mind of its own. Tumbling off the edge of the curb, tripping on literally nothing, Edward caught me with such skill and precision that a gasp left my lips in shock.

He scowled at me angrily. "Goodness, Beau, how is it you're not dead, yet?"

His comment enraged me, and what joy I felt from the shivers rushing through me drained away as I furrowed my eyebrows at him. I had always been horribly clumsy, but the way he tugged on my arm and guided me toward my own truck was humiliating. Like he thought I was a china doll that would shatter if I hit the pavement, or a little child needing to be reprimanded.

When we got to my truck, I reached into my pocket for the keys, unlocking the driver's side door before Edward's hand rose up expectantly.

With a sigh, I handed him the keys and crawled into the cab of my Beast. As soon as the door was closed behind me, Edward walked off, fast, and I found myself trapped, alone, with my embarrassment – thinking over the events of the day.

Edward wanted to be near me, he wanted to be friends. I wanted him near me, I also wanted to be friends. What more could we be? But I felt like we were more than that. In fact, I'd never wanted to be friends with someone more in my entire life. Even when he was pissed off, irritatingly frustrating, being away from him felt like I was spinning in circles with nothing to anchor me down to earth. Even though I still felt kind of woozy, I didn't want to lay down in the cab of my truck and miss seeing him come back.

It was intoxicating, waiting for him to come back. Even the developing rain was annoying to me, as if the sound could possibly distract my eyes from spotting his bronze-blond hair and white sweater.

A thump sounded beside me, scaring my heart out of my chest with the shriek that left my mouth.

Edward stared at me like a deer in headlights, bewildered as to why I had been so terrified of a door opening.

"Goodness, Beau! It's just me!"

I blinked, too much, in shock. "H-how did you get back so fast? I didn't see you," I said, pointing to the parking lot and school; completely dumbfounded.

Edward chuckled, setting his bag and my own in the middle of the seat. "I took the back way, it's faster for me."

The back way? There was a back way? I looked, seeing only trees and forest that had no path going through it that I could see from here. Something felt really off, but it wasn't a big enough deal to bother me. What did bother me was that he leaned over me to buckle me in like a big baby.

A part of me wanted to yell; but, I could smell his hair – which was spicy and floral, a sweet musk that overwhelmed my senses and made my heart quicken in my chest. Dispelling all the anger I felt as soon as the scent enveloped me.

He was gone before I could breathe him in again, which perhaps I should be grateful for, and I blinked furiously to try and snap myself out of the spell that his hair had bewitched me with. Had I been too nauseated to smell him before, when he held me?

"You know, I can buckle myself in."

He chuckled, sticking the keys into the ignition. I wanted to tell him that you had to pump it twice to get it going; but, he already seemed to know that, and he started backing out of the parking lot without any help from me. Both impressed and perplexed that my Beast seemed to approve of Edward at the wheel.

"Verily; but, once in a while, it's okay for someone to take care of you, Beau."

Not sure how to answer that, my mouth curled into a grumble as I looked at him and realized something.

"Aren't you going to put on a seat belt?"

He blinked at me as though the idea was ridiculous, only to hold his foot on the break and buckle himself up with an amused gleam at me. "If you insist."

He didn't wait after buckling himself in, the seat-belt hugging tight to his lithe, lanky, form as he continued to back out of the parking spot and drive toward the turn onto the highway.

He looked at the radio beside us, softly pursing his mouth. "Your truck only plays cassette tapes, I take it?"

A smirk warmed my mouth, and I reached out to affectionately pat the dashboard with my palm. "He's an old fella, but he plays the radio just fine."

Edward hummed in thought, hand moving to flick on the radio, which automatically started broadcasting a classical station. One of three stations I flipped through on my way to or from school.

He looked over at me curiously. "You enjoy Classical music?"

Embarrassment flushed my face. "Sometimes. I have a few favorites."

"What do you like?" He asked, the radio voice announcing the next song as I considered my answer.

"I like some opera. A little Mozart, Beethoven, and Debussy."

His eyes seemed to suddenly perk up with enthusiasm. "I love Debussy. Clair de lune is my favorite piece."

Surprised, my blush faded slightly. "Clair de lune is great, there's a movie that made an orchestral version of it; but, I haven't heard them play it on the radio yet."

"A full orchestra," He mentioned thoughtfully, only to teasingly smile. "That could be good or bad."

I chuckled at him, not really listening to the music as I relaxed against the back of the bench-seat. It was impossible not to respond to his joy, my own fully singing in my chest at being alone with him like this.

The rain blurred everything outside the window into gray and green smudges. I began to realize, sadly, that we were driving – very fast – down the freeway, and yet the car moved so steadily, so evenly, that I didn't feel the speed. Only the town flashing by gave it away that we were speeding, and with worry I wondered if he was trying to get me home faster to be away from me.

The fear didn't have time to sink in, as Edward turned to me and spoke – not even bothering to watch the road. "Beau, what is your mother like?"

I absorbed his large, curious, eyes with mirth. "She looks like me, but more attractive," I said, and Edward raised his eyebrows as if he was offended by my jest. "I mean, I have too much of my dad in me, I guess. She's also more outgoing than I am, but irresponsible and eccentric. She's my best friend," I stopped. Talking about her was making me miss her desperately, and depressed, the pang burned in my chest.

"How old are you, Beau?" His voice sounded frustrated, for some reason I couldn't imagine. He'd stopped the car now, and I realized with a start that we were already at Charlie's house. The rain was falling down so heavily now that I could barely see the house at all; submerged in a river of mist.

"I'm seventeen," I answered, a little confused by the question.

"You don't seem seventeen to me," he commented, his tone sounded strangely reproachful and I found myself biting back a chuckle.

Unfortunately, it snorted from my chest instead, and he looked at me curiously again.

"What is it?"

"My mom always said I was born thirty-five years old and I get more middle-aged each year," I laughed, and then sighed. "But then, someone has to be the adult." I paused for a moment. "You don't seem seventeen yourself."

He made a face as he turned off my truck, leaning his lithe form into the back of the bench seat as he angled himself toward me. "So, why did your mother marry Phil?"

I was surprised Edward remembered his name; I'd only mentioned it once – after all – almost two months ago. It took me a moment to recover from the strangeness of the question enough to answer him.

"My mom, she's really" – I struggled for the word – "impulsive. A free spirit. I think Phil makes her feel as young as she believes she is? At any rate, they're crazy about each other. "

"Do you approve?" He asked, and the question swamped me.

"Why does it matter?" I countered, and he looked at me as though he found it weird my reply equally unnerving. "I mean, I want her to be happy and he is who she wants."

"That's very generous of you, Beau. I wonder…" He trailed off.

When he didn't say anything for what felt like several minutes, my curiosity got the better of me. "What do you mean?"

"If the position was reversed, would she extend the same courtesy to you? No matter who your choice was?" He was suddenly very intent on watching me – his languishing eyes desperately searching my own.

They were so intense they hurt me, because deep down I knew what he was trying to hint at, even if I couldn't outwardly admit it to myself.

"I-I think so," I stuttered badly, too cowardice to be able to say anything else.

"She's my Mom, though, s-so it's a little different."

He seemed to be hoping I would say something else, and covered up his disappointment by trying to smirk at me. "No one too scary, then?"

I tried to grin in reply, it was hard not to be cheerful when he was playful. "Depends on what you mean by 'scary'. Multiple facial piercings and extensive tattoos?"

A huge knot was in my throat, because I felt like something was going to happen to knock me off kilter and I would just float away through the roof of my truck or sink down into the abyss, irrevocably drifting.

"That's one type of 'scary', I suppose."

I knew I shouldn't ask, that I should change the subject and not press him anymore, but I couldn't bear to let the moment slip away without saying anything.

"W-what type of 'scary' were you talking about?" The question sucked the air from my lungs; too terrified to ask and too terrified not to, all at the same moment.

He didn't answer, only set his hand on his thigh and clenched it tightly into a fist near his knee. Skin stretched over his white knuckles. The barrier of our school bags resting between us suddenly felt suffocating to me.

Cowardice froze me from removing them though. Too afraid for those bags to be moved to the wet floor, and too scared to tell him why, my fingers trembled as the rain poured all around us.

Was he scared, too? He seemed to be struggling, struggling so much I thought he'd never say anything. Yet, finally, his hand relaxed and he said the words I'd been so terrified of wanting.

"Do you think -I- would be scary?" He watched me with great trembling, his lower lip shaking with faint twitches that made my heart flutter into spasm.

"W-what do you mean?" I tried to lie, pretending I didn't know, because I was so scared I couldn't move. His face was instantly dejected, like I had ripped his soul out of his chest, and I couldn't bear it. Why was it that my face was so easy to read? He had to know I was lying – I just felt so overwhelmed with shame of how badly I wanted him. Knowing full well what was wrong with me, and hating that there was nothing I could do to change how I felt. Or change how scared that made me.

"If you brought me home, to your mother, would that scare her?"

Nausea filled me, but not from disgust. I felt like I was going to faint all over again, everywhere seemed to sweat as I found myself unable to breathe and hotly shaking. I wasn't entirely sure where I sucked the courage from; but somehow, I spoke – even though my words were wet and garbling. "I-I don't know."

Guilt washed over Edward's face. His eyes were so broken that when he unbuckled his seat belt, I was terrified that he would leave forever and not come back.

My hand was no longer under my control, and I could only watch as it snapped to take his hand. He caught it instantly, to my surprise, and I could feel his hand shaking with the same ferocious trembles that crippled me. He looked so amazingly free of flaws, even when he was so tense. It wasn't fair how beautiful he was.

"Beau..." He whispered, still holding my hand as he gently pressed against the ajar driver's side door to open it.

The languid sanctuary I'd taken for granted was broken by the overwhelming tenacity of raindrops filling the cab of my truck with noise. He moved out of the cab, still holding my hand, to sling our bags over his shoulder and lead me. Like a ghost, I slid weakly along the bench seat of my truck to follow him out the driver's side door. Standing beside him – pinned between him and the truck – I couldn't breathe.

Was he going to kiss me? Could I dare hope to stand on my tippy-toes and press my lips against his? It was only a few seconds of trepidation, but they stretched on and on as he bore into my soul. His waxing eyes glistening under the curtain of dark sky.

"We should go inside," He whispered. "You'll catch your death of cold."

I nodded, autonomously, and for a few blessed moments it felt like I wasn't clumsy anymore. I didn't worry about falling on my face, or crashing against the brick driveway, because his hand held me steadfast. His strange, icy, hands that filled me with unnatural warmth.

Edward stopped moving once he'd led me up the porch and turned toward the front door. For a moment I forgot that he still had my car keys, and I fruitlessly fumbled my free hand into my jean pockets to search for them. Bashfully biting down on the inside of my cheek when he used the only other key in my key ring to unlock Charlie's house. I really hoped he hadn't noticed my hand rummaging about, because I felt stupid enough, already.

The front door swinging open into darkness, Edward turned and presented the key ring before me. For once, I caught them without grasping too much air, and slid them back into my pants pocket. Deep down, I knew that only a half a minute at most had passed since he helped me out of the car, but time felt different. As if somehow I gained the ability to slow my mind and stretch out each second to last three times as long.

Edward strode over the eave into Charlie's house, which was blissfully empty; blissfully dark. Without any blows to his impressive grace he set my bag down in it's usual spot on the floor as we both wiped our feet on the rug. I wanted to ask how he knew where to put my bag; but, as there wasn't any room for him to set it in another place, that seemed a pointless question to ask. The light flickered on so easily, so quickly, as though Edward could find everything in the house as simply as breathing.

I couldn't say anything, I didn't know what to say, or how to process what he had told me in the cab. Did he like me? He wanted to know if my mom would approve of him, that was something no one in my life had ever really worried about before. What did that even mean? Did he daydream of us having a deeper relationship someday, where he would get to meet my mom?

Thinking too deeply on a future I feared we couldn't have, I kept watching him. Studying him avidly, even knowing that if anyone else watched me this way it would be weird and unsettling. Try as I may to resist myself, if I was wholly honest with myself I wished we could have a future. Not in this tiny town, maybe not even in larger towns.

Everything I had seen of videos of 'pride parades' had been met with public shame and subtle sneers from many of the people I'd known in life. I'd only been to church a handful of times after we moved out of Grandma Rosemary's house when I was six years old. Mom sometimes flocked to new places or studied new ideas for enlightenment, and almost all the church folk I'd spoken to had at some point told me how horrible people who sinned were. All saying the same basic jist that Homosexuality was as bad as Adulterers.

That felt so wrong to me, though. I didn't feel like I was cheating on anyone for wanting Edward. It wasn't like some girl was set to marry me and I was being unfaithful to them. True, since coming to Forks, at least three girls had something of a crush on me. Maybe Makayla would want to marry me if we started dating, an idea that repulsed me despite how I cared for her. Was I disappointing her by spurning her advances? Yes, but wouldn't it be worse to pretend I felt more just because we were socially acceptable? Would I really be 'clean' or sinless by lying to myself and destroying my integrity for the sheer possibility of heaven?

Adulterers weren't the same to me. That wasn't what I believed, even as shame filled me in the full awareness of how much I wanted to be with him in this moment. Edward didn't see me as a sexual object – he'd never tried to flirt with me, touch me inappropriately, or get me into bed. He looked at me the way Makayla looked at me. Wanting to know me more, be around me, get to know the real me, and I desperately wanted to get to know him, too.

Even as I hoped against hope, I knew there was no way back, for me. If we tried to be an 'item' publicly, there would always be people who saw us as a sick mockery of a couple. They wouldn't understand, they would grimace and shun us, or tiptoe around us on eggshells – like we would break if they said the elephant in the room.

All these thoughts swarmed through me, like violent bees, making time run fast and slow down to nothing at the same moment. Buzzing everywhere while Edward led me inside the kitchen and sat down at the dinner table. His eyes averted from my own, to casually peruse at the fridge with curiosity. So many words seemed to pass between our eyes, in a series of back and forth glances. Words I couldn't fully understand, sweltering with meaning too lofty a precipice for either of us to easily convey.

"Shall I fetch anything?" He gestured to the cabinets, and I shook my head.

"N-no, I'm fine," I lied, too enamored by his presence to have the stomach for anything.

My thoughts kept shooting past Edward, trying so sincerely to be attentive to my needs, to his question – my mom. Would mom not accept him? I honestly didn't know. She'd never said anything outwardly negative of gay couples, she even knew a few at her yoga classes in Phoenix – nice people who showed up to her birthday party last year. But, while my mother was kind and friendly to them, they had never been her best friends. She had never, to my knowledge, confided in someone who was gay or lesbian. She'd never said anything on the subject with enough determination for me to know her feelings on the matter without a shadow of doubt.

Even if she did approve, I didn't live with Renee right now. I lived with my father, and somehow I knew that Charlie wouldn't understand. If Edward and I became a couple, would it cause hardship for him? Being the respected police chief? That mattered to me, even if it wasn't enough of a reason to make me stop dreaming about him. Mom, having been my best friend for my entire life, disapproving of Edward cut me deeper; but, it was more than that.

Could -I- live with my choice? Could he?

Would Edward leave if our affection became public? If the world knew, and he was ashamed, would he say it was all my fault and abandon me? Maybe he would, but did that matter in the end, if I could sleep knowing I'd done the bravest thing in the world by being honest with myself?

"You know," Edward said, as though speaking what was on my mind, or more precisely, what was on his. "There are no secrets in Forks."

I couldn't answer, maybe he didn't expect me to, because he kept talking after a pause to breathe.

"Alice is going to be here in an hour, to come get me."

His words pained me, and my hand squeezed his fingers a little tighter. Still, I couldn't speak – even as I wanted desperately to say what was in my heart.

"Alice is okay," he said, swallowing as I did, before he continued. "Of us. You and I. She's really excited."

"What do you mean?" I lied, so terribly, and inwardly hated myself for it.

Edward bit down on his lip. "Of us. 'Being friends'."

"Oh," I started, feeling a weak smile curl my mouth. "I'm glad."

His eyes lit up more brightly than the sun. "You are?"

I nodded, weakly. "Yeah, I really like that you're my…friend."

The words 'my friend' physically stung. It lashed at me the way they lashed at his dejected face.

"I'm glad," he parroted, softly. Even if he was, I knew he was hurting, and it crushed me more than I could say.

"Well, I hope you have fun at the beach tomorrow. It might even be good weather for sunbathing in the afternoon," he mentioned, glancing away to the one window in my kitchen.

His words wounded me; dug at my soul like a rusty spoon. "Please, won't you," I asked, disappointment soaking my voice even though I tried really hard not to show it. "Reconsider coming with me?"

"I can't," Edward curtly answered, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling me. "Emmett and Rosalie are starting the weekend early."

"What are you doing to do? Maybe I could come with you instead?" A friend could ask that, right? I hoped the pain wasn't too obvious on my face; but, I was too concerned with knowing his answer to care how pathetic I looked.

Something like panic bulged his eyes for a moment, only for his face to melt into a wry, toe-curling, smirk. "We're going hiking in the Goat Rocks Wilderness, just south of Rainier. I don't think Emmett would have any fun if we had to carry you around the whole time."

Ugh, hiking. I would just embarrass him in front of his siblings and he knew it. Remembering that Charlie had said their family went camping a lot, this shouldn't have surprised me.

"Yeah, I'd probably just roll down the mountain, or something," I mumbled, trying to sound enthusiastic that we wouldn't be able to see each other tomorrow. I don't think I fooled him, and if he was trying to hide his own disappointment, he didn't fool me either.

"Speaking of rolling down hills, will you do something for me this weekend?" Edward asked, his eyes pleading with me as he looked me dead in the eye. Utilizing the full force of his gold, burning, irises – I nodded helplessly against his charm.

"Can you promise not to fall into the ocean? Or trip over rocks?" He asked, smiling crookedly as his thumb brushed over my hand. "I wish not to offend you; but, you seem to attract accidents and trouble like a magnet."

"No guarantees, I don't have a graceful bone in my body, but I'll try," I promised, wetting my lips. "If you do the same?"

He smiled crookedly, only to laugh whole-heartedly. As if the idea of himself falling over was somehow hilarious to him. "I promise, nothing bad can happen to me."

He was so sure of himself that I believed him. After all, somehow he had stopped a van, so what could possibly hurt him accidentally? Reminded that had he promised to tell me how he saved me, and us being alone at the moment, the question slipped from my lips.

"About your 'stopping vans'?"

Edward let go of my hand, instantly, and stood. "Not today."

I bit down, too hard, on my lip. "Can I ask why you don't want to tell me?"

"Tis not the right time," he said warmly as he bent to grasp my hand, and raise it. Too curious to tug my hand away, his soft, cool, lips pressed against the back of my hand.

The unexpected peck sent cold shivers through my toes and I swayed woozily in my kitchen chair. "Someday?"

He relented with a muted smile. "Someday, I promise."

The rest of the hour passed altogether too fast for my liking. We talked about all kinds of things, from music to homework. He even helped me work on an upcoming Biology assignment. I'd deluded myself into thinking that hour would pass by as slowly as time had stopped in the cab, so when I heard an unknown car honk outside, disappointment filled me. So much that I feared I'd drown from the absence of him.

Edward smiled, stood, kissed my hand, and then grabbed his book-bag to leave before I could say anything more to stop him.

Not from speed, because he moved slower, like he didn't want to be away from me, either. I just didn't want to say anything, trying to memorize every image of him in my kitchen. Burn the way he moved as he walked out of the house into my memory forever.

Alice briskly waved from the silver Volvo's driver's side window, but I couldn't see any of the other faces in the car before Edward closed the front door. Leaving me alone to my thoughts.

Leaving me kicking myself for being too much of a coward to tell him how I felt.