Twilight - The Book

5.BLOOD TYPE

I MADE MY WAY TO ENGLISH IN A DAZE. I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE when I first walked in that class had already started.
Thank you for joining us, Miss Swan," Mr. Mason said in a disparaging tone. I flushed and hurried to my seat. It wasn't till class ended that I realized Mike wasn't sitting in his usual seat next to me. I felt a twinge of guilt. But he and Eric both met me at the door as usual, so I figured I wasn't totally unforgiven. Mike seemed to become more himself as we walked, gaining enthusiasm as he talked about the weather report for this weekend. The rain was supposed to take a minor break, and so maybe his beach trip would be possible. I tried to sound eager, to make up for disappointing him yesterday. It was hard; rain or no rain, it would still only be in the high forties, if we were lucky. The rest of the morning passed in a blur. It was difficult to believe that I hadn't just imagined what Edward had said, and the way his eyes had looked. Maybe it was just a very convincing dream that I'd confused with reality. That seemed more prob- able than that I really appealed to him on any level. So I was impatient and frightened as Jessica and I entered the cafeteria. I wanted to see his face, to see if he'd gone back to the cold, indifferent person I'd known for the last several weeks. Or if, by some miracle, I'd really heard what I thought I'd heard this morning. Jessica babbled on and on about her dance plans - Lauren and Angela had asked the other boys and they were all going together - completely unaware of my
inattention. Disappointment flooded through me as my eyes unerringly focused on his table. The other four were there, but he was absent. Had he gone home? I followed the still-babbling Jessica through the line, crushed. I'd lost my appetite - I bought nothing but a bottle of lemonade. I just wanted to go sit down and sulk.
"Edward Cullen is staring at you again,"
Jessica said, finally breaking through my abstraction with his name.
"I wonder why he's sitting alone today."
My head snapped up. I followed her gaze to see Edward, smiling crookedly, staring at me from an empty table across the cafeteria from where he usually sat. Once he'd caught my eye, he raised one hand and motioned with his index finger for me to join him. As I stared in disbelief, he winked.
"Does he mean you?"
Jessica asked with insulting astonish- ment in her voice.
"Maybe he needs help with his Biology homework," I muttered for her benefit.
"Um, I'd better go see what he wants." I could feel her staring after me as I walked away. When I reached his table, I stood behind the chair across from him, unsure.
"Why don't you sit with me today?"
he asked, smiling. I sat down automatically, watching him with caution. He was still smiling. It was hard to believe that someone so beautiful could be real. I was afraid that he might disappear in a sudden puff of smoke, and I would wake up.
He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.
"This is different," I finally managed.
"Well.." He paused, and then the rest of the words followed in a rush. "I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."
I waited for him to say something that made sense. The seconds ticked by.
"You know I don't have any idea what you mean," I eventu- ally pointed out.
"I know." He smiled again, and then he changed the subject.
"I think your friends are angry with me for stealing you."
"They'll survive." I could feel their stares boring into my back.
"I may not give you back, though," he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.
I gulped.
He laughed. "You look worried."
"No," I said, but, ridiculously, my voice broke. "Surprised, actually ... what brought all this on?"
"I told you — I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up." He was still smiling, but his ocher eyes were serious.
"Giving up?" I repeated in confusion.
"Yes — giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." His smile faded as he explained, and a hard edge crept into his voice.
"You lost me again."
The breathtaking crooked smile reappeared.
"I always say too much when I'm talking to you - that's one of the problems."
"Don't worry - I don't understand any of it," I said wryly.
"I'm counting on that."
"So, in plain English, are we friends now?"
"Friends...," he mused, dubious.
"Or not," I muttered.
He grinned. "Well, we can try, I suppose. But i'm warning you, now that i'm not a good friend for you." Behind his smile, the warning was real. "You say that a lot," I noted, trying to ignore the sudden trembling in my stomach and keep my voice even.
"Yes, because you're not listening to me. I'm still waiting for you to believe it. If you're smart, you'll avoid me."
"I think you've made your opinion on the subject of my intel- lect clear, too." My eyes narrowed.
He smiled apologetically.
"So, as long as I'm being . .. not smart, we'll try to be friends?" I struggled to sum up the confusing exchange.
"That sounds about right.
))
I looked down at my hands wrapped around the lemonade bottle, not sure what to do now.
"What are you thinking?" he asked curiously.
I looked up into his deep gold eyes, became befuddled, and, as usual, blurted out the truth.
"I'm trying to figure out what you are.
His jaw tightened, but he kept his smile in place with some effort.
"Are you having any luck with that?" he asked in an offhand tone.
"Not too much," I admitted.