touched mine gently.
"Thanks," I sighed.
"Anytime."
I wasn't really there at all anymore. But I fought against the stupor weakly. There was just one more thing I wanted to tell him.
"Edward?" I struggled to pronounce his name clearly.
"Yes?"
"I'm betting on Alice," I mumbled.
And then the night closed over me.
EPILOGUE:AN OCCASION
Edward helped me into his car, being very careful of the wisps of silk and chiffon, the flowers he'd just pinned into my elaborately styled curls, and my bulky walking cast. He ignored the angry set of my mouth.
When he had me settled, he got in the driver's seat and headed back out the long, narrow drive.
"At what point exactly are you going to tell me what's going on?" I asked grumpily. I really hated surprises. And he knew that.
"I'm shocked that you haven't figured it out yet." He threw a mocking smile in my direction, and my breath caught in my throat. Would I ever get used to his perfection?
"I did mention that you looked very nice, didn't I?" I verified.
"Yes." He grinned again. I'd never seen him dress in black before, and, with the contrast against his pale skin, his beauty was absolutely surreal. That much I couldn't deny, even if the fact that he was wearing a tuxedo made me very nervous.
Not quite as nervous as the dress. Or the shoe. Only one shoe, as my other foot was still securely encased in plaster. But the stiletto heel, held on only by satin ribbons, certainly wasn't going to help me as I tried to hobble around.
"I'm not coming over anymore if Alice is going to treat me like Guinea Pig Barbie when I do," I griped. I'd spent the better part of the day in Alice's staggeringly vast bathroom, a helpless victim as she played hairdresser and cosmetician. Whenever I fidgeted or complained, she reminded me that she didn't have any memories of being human, and asked me not to ruin her vicarious fun. Then she'd dressed me in the most ridiculous dress - deep blue, frilly and off the shoulders, with French tags I couldn't read - a dress more suitable for a runway than Forks. Nothing good could come of our formal attire, of that I was sure. Unless... but I was afraid to put my suspicions into words, even in my own head.
I was distracted then by the sound of a phone ringing. Edward pulled his cell phone from a pocket inside his jacket, looking briefly at the caller ID before answering.
"Hello, Charlie," he said warily.
"Charlie?" I frowned.
Charlie had been... difficult since my return to Forks. He had
compartmentalized my bad experience into two defined reactions. Toward Carlisle he was almost worshipfully grateful. On the other hand, he was stubbornly convinced that Edward was at fault - because, if not for him, I wouldn't have left home in the first place. And Edward was far from disagreeing with him. These days I had rules that hadn't existed before: curfews... visiting hours.
Something Charlie was saying made Edward's eyes widen in disbelief, and then a grin spread across his face.
"You're kidding!" He laughed.
"What is it?" I demanded.
He ignored me. "Why don't you let me talk to him?" Edward suggested with evident pleasure. He waited for a few seconds.
"Hello, Tyler, this is Edward Cullen." His voice was very friendly, on the surface. I knew it well enough to catch the soft edge of menace. What was Tyler doing at my house? The awful truth began to dawn on me. I looked again at the inappropriate dress Alice had forced me into.
"I'm sorry if there's been some kind of miscommunication, but Bella is unavailable tonight." Edward's tone changed, and the threat in his voice was suddenly much more evident as he continued. "To be perfectly honest, she'll be unavailable every night, as far as anyone besides myself is concerned. No offense. And I'm sorry about your evening." He didn't sound sorry at all. And then he snapped the phone shut, a huge smirk on his face.
My face and neck flushed crimson with anger. I could feel the rage-induced tears starting to fill my eyes.
He looked at me in surprise. "Was that last part a bit too much? I didn't mean to offend you."
I ignored that.
"You're taking me to the prom!" I yelled.
It was embarrassingly obvious now. If I'd been paying any attention at all, I'm sure I would have noticed the date on the posters that decorated the school buildings. But I'd never dreamed he was thinking of subjecting me to this. Didn't he know me at all?
He wasn't expecting the force of my reaction, that was clear. He pressed his lips together and his eyes narrowed. "Don't be difficult, Bella."
My eyes flashed to the window; we were halfway to the school already.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I demanded in horror.
He gestured to his tuxedo. "Honestly, Bella, what did you think we were doing?"
I was mortified. First, because I'd missed the obvious. And also because the vague suspicions - expectations, really - that I'd been forming all day, as Alice tried to transform me into a beauty queen, were so far wide of the mark. My half-fearful hopes seemed very silly now.
I'd guessed there was some kind of occasion brewing. But prom! That was the furthest thing from my mind.
The angry tears rolled over my cheeks. I remembered with dismay that I was very uncharacteristically wearing mascara. I wiped quickly under my eyes to prevent any smudges. My hand was unblackened when I pulled it away; maybe Alice had known I would need waterproof makeup.
"This is completely ridiculous. Why are you crying?" he demanded in frustration.
"Because I'm mad!"
"Bella." He turned the full force of his scorching golden eyes on me.
"What?" I muttered, distracted.
"Humor me," he insisted.
His eyes were melting all my fury. It was impossible to fight with him when he cheated like that. I gave in with poor grace.
"Fine," I pouted, unable to glare as effectively as I would have liked. "I'll go quietly. But you'll see. I'm way overdue for more bad luck. I'll probably break my other leg. Look at this shoe! It's a death trap!" I held out my good leg as evidence.
"Hmmm." He stared at my leg longer than was necessary. "Remind me to thank Alice for that tonight."
"Alice is going to be there?" That comforted me slightly.
"With Jasper, and Emmett... and Rosalie," he admitted.
The feeling of comfort disappeared. There had been no progress with Rosalie, though I was on quite good terms with her sometimes-husband. Emmett enjoyed having me around - he thought my bizarre human reactions were hilarious... or maybe it was just the fact that I fell down a lot that he found so funny. Rosalie acted as if I didn't exist. While I shook my head to dispel the direction my thoughts had taken, I thought of something else.
"Is Charlie in on this?" I asked, suddenly suspicious.
"Of course." He grinned, and then chuckled. "Apparently Tyler wasn't, though."
I gritted my teeth. How Tyler could be so delusional, I couldn't imagine. At school, where Charlie couldn't interfere, Edward and I were inseparable - except for those rare sunny days.
We were at the school now; Rosalie's red convertible was conspicuous in the parking lot. The clouds were thin today, a few streaks of sunlight escaping through far away in the west.
He got out and walked around the car to open my door. He held out his hand.
I sat stubbornly in my seat, arms folded, feeling a secret twinge of smugness. The lot was crowded with people in formal dress: witnesses. He couldn't remove me forcibly from the car as he might have if we'd been alone.
He sighed. "When someone wants to kill you, you're brave as a lion - and then when someone mentions dancing..." He shook his head.
I gulped. Dancing.
"Bella, I won't let anything hurt you - not even yourself. I won't let go of you once, I promise."
I thought about that and suddenly felt much better. He could see that in my face.
"There, now," he said gently, "it won't be so bad." He leaned down and wrapped one arm around my waist. I took his other hand and let him lift me from the car.
He kept his arm tightly around me, supporting me as I limped toward the school.
In Phoenix, they held proms in hotel ballrooms. This dance was in the gym, of course. It was probably the only room in town big enough for a dance. When we got inside, I giggled. There were actual balloon arches
and twisted garlands of pastel crepe paper festooning the walls.