"That part is easy enough to explain," he continued. I felt his eyes on my face but I couldn't look at him yet, afraid he might read the chagrin in my eyes. "But there's more... and it's not so easy to put into words -"
I was still staring at the Cullens while he spoke. Suddenly Rosalie, his blond and breathtaking sister, turned to look at me. No, not to look - to glare, with dark, cold eyes. I wanted to look away, but her gaze held me until Edward broke off mid-sentence and made an angry noise under his breath. It was almost a hiss.
Rosalie turned her head, and I was relieved to be free. I looked back at Edward - and I knew he could see the confusion and fear that widened my eyes.
His face was tight as he explained. "I'm sorry about that. She's just worried. You see... it's dangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly..." He looked down.
"If?"
"If this ends... badly." He dropped his head into his hands, as he had that night in Port Angeles. His anguish was plain; I yearned to comfort him, but I was at a loss to know how. My hand reached toward him involuntarily; quickly, though, I dropped it to the table, fearing that my touch would only make things worse. I realized slowly that his words should frighten me. I waited for that fear to come, but all I could seem
to feel was an ache for his pain.
And frustration - frustration that Rosalie had interrupted whatever he was about to say. I didn't know how to bring it up again. He still had his head in his hands.
I tried to speak in a normal voice. "And you have to leave now?"
"Yes." He raised his face; it was serious for a moment, and then his mood shifted and he smiled. "It's probably for the best. We still have fifteen minutes of that wretched movie left to endure in Biology - I don't think I could take any more."
I started. Alice - her short, inky hair in a halo of spiky disarray around her exquisite, elfin face - was suddenly standing behind his shoulder. Her slight frame was willowy, graceful even in absolute stillness.
He greeted her without looking away from me. "Alice."
"Edward," she answered, her high soprano voice almost as attractive as his.
"Alice, Bella - Bella, Alice," he introduced us, gesturing casually with his hand, a wry smile on his face.
"Hello, Bella." Her brilliant obsidian eyes were unreadable, but her smile was friendly. "It's nice to finally meet you."
Edward flashed a dark look at her.
"Hi, Alice," I murmured shyly.
"Are you ready?" she asked him.
His voice was aloof. "Nearly. I'll meet you at the car."
She left without another word; her walk was so fluid, so sinuous that I felt a sharp pang of jealousy.
"Should I say 'have fun,' or is that the wrong sentiment?" I asked, turning back to him.
"No, 'have fun' works as well as anything." He grinned.
"Have fun, then." I worked to sound wholehearted. Of course I didn't fool him.
"I'll try." He still grinned. "And you try to be safe, please."
"Safe in Forks - what a challenge."
"For you it is a challenge." His jaw hardened. "Promise."
"I promise to try to be safe," I recited. "I'll do the laundry tonight - that ought to be fraught with peril."
"Don't fall in," he mocked.
"I'll do my best."
He stood then, and I rose, too.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I sighed.
"It seems like a long time to you, doesn't it?" he mused.
I nodded glumly.
"I'll be there in the morning," he promised, smiling his crooked smile. He reached across the table to touch my face, lightly brushing along my cheekbone again. Then he turned and walked away. I stared after him until
he was gone.
I was sorely tempted to ditch the rest of the day, at the very least Gym, but a warning instinct stopped me. I knew that if I disappeared now, Mike and others would assume I was with Edward. And Edward was worried about the time we'd spent together publicly... if things went wrong. I refused to dwell on the last thought, concentrating instead on making things safer for him.
I intuitively knew - and sensed he did, too - that tomorrow would be pivotal. Our relationship couldn't continue to balance, as it did, on the point of a knife. We would fall off one edge or the other, depending entirely upon his decision, or his instincts. My decision was made, made before I'd ever consciously chosen, and I was committed to seeing it through. Because there was nothing more terrifying to me, more excruciating, than the thought of turning away from him. It was an impossibility.
I went to class, feeling dutiful. I couldn't honestly say what happened in Biology; my mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of tomorrow. In Gym, Mike was speaking to me again; he wished me a good time in Seattle. I carefully explained that I'd canceled my trip, worried about my truck.
"Are you going to the dance with Cullen?" he asked, suddenly sulky.
"No, I'm not going to the dance at all."
"What are you doing, then?" he asked, too interested.
My natural urge was to tell him to butt out. Instead, I lied brightly.
"Laundry, and then I have to study for the Trig test or I'm going to fail."
"Is Cullen helping you study?"
"Edward," I emphasized, "is not going to help me study. He's gone away somewhere for the weekend." The lies came more naturally than usual, I noted with surprise.
"Oh." He perked up. "You know, you could come to the dance with our group anyway - that would be cool. We'd all dance with you," he promised.
The mental image of Jessica's face made my tone sharper than necessary.
"I'm not going to the dance, Mike, okay?"
"Fine." He sulked again. "I was just offering."
When the school day had finally ended, I walked to the parking lot without enthusiasm. I did not especially want to walk home, but I couldn't see how he would have retrieved my truck. Then again, I was starting to believe that nothing was impossible for him. The latter instinct proved correct - my truck sat in the same space he'd parked his Volvo in this morning. I shook my head, incredulous, as I opened the unlocked door and saw the key in the ignition.
There was a piece of white paper folded on my seat. I got in and closed the door before I unfolded it. Two words were written in his elegant script.
Be safe.
The sound of the truck roaring to life frightened me. I laughed at myself.
When I got home, the handle of the door was locked, the dead bolt unlocked, just as I'd left it this morning. Inside, I went straight to the laundry room. It looked just the same as I'd left it, too. I dug for my jeans and, after finding them, checked the pockets. Empty. Maybe I'd hung my key up after all, I thought, shaking my head.
Following the same instinct that had prompted me to lie to Mike, I called Jessica on the pretense of wishing her luck at the dance. When she offered the same wish for my day with Edward, I told her about the cancellation. She was more disappointed than really necessary for a third-party observer to be. I said goodbye quickly after that.
Charlie was absentminded at dinner, worried over something at work, I guessed, or maybe a basketball game, or maybe he was just really enjoying the lasagna - it was hard to tell with Charlie.
"You know, Dad..." I began, breaking into his reverie.
"What's that, Bell?"
"I think you're right about Seattle. I think I'll wait until Jessica or someone else can go with me."
"Oh," he said, surprised. "Oh, okay. So, do you want me to stay home?"
"No, Dad, don't change your plans. I've got a million things to do... homework, laundry... I need to go to the library and the grocery store. I'll be in and out all day... you go and have fun."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely, Dad. Besides, the freezer is getting dangerously low on fish - we're down to a two, maybe three years' supply."
"You're sure easy to live with, Bella." He smiled.
"I could say the same thing about you," I said, laughing. The sound of my laughter was off, but he didn't seem to notice. I felt so guilty for deceiving him that I almost took Edward's advice and told him where I would be. Almost.
After dinner, I folded clothes and moved another load through the dryer. Unfortunately it was the kind of job that only keeps hands busy. My mind definitely had too much free time, and it was getting out of control. I fluctuated between anticipation so intense that it was very nearly pain, and an insidious fear that picked at my resolve. I had to keep reminding myself that I'd made my choice, and I wasn't going back on it. I pulled his note out of my pocket much more often than necessary to absorb the two small words he'd written. He wants me to be safe, I told myself again and again. I would just hold on to the faith that, in the end, that desire would win out over the others. And what was my other choice - to cut him out of my life? Intolerable. Besides, since I'd come to Forks, it really seemed like my life was about him.