Twilight: Book 1

BALANCING

"Billy!" Charlie called as soon as he got out of the car.I turned toward the house, beckoning to Jacob as I ducked under the porch. I heard Charliegreeting them loudly behind me."I'm going to pretend I didn't see you behind the wheel, Jake," he said disapprovingly."We get permits early on the rez," Jacob said while I unlocked the door and flicked on theporch light."Sure you do," Charlie laughed."I have to get around somehow." I recognized Billy's resonant voice easily, despite the years.The sound of it made me feel suddenly younger, a child.I went inside, leaving the door open behind me and turning on lights before I hung up myjacket. Then I stood in the door, watching anxiously as Charlie and Jacob helped Billy out of thecar and into his wheelchair.I backed out of the way as the three of them hurried in, shaking off the rain."This is a surprise," Charlie was saying."It's been too long," Billy answered. "I hope it's not a bad time." His dark eyes flashed up tome again, their expression unreadable."No, it's great. I hope you can stay for the game."Jacob grinned. "I think that's the plan—our TV broke last week."Billy made a face at his son. "And, of course, Jacob was anxious to see Bella again," headded. Jacob scowled and ducked his head while I fought back a surge of remorse. Maybe I'dbeen too convincing on the beach."Are you hungry?" I asked, turning toward the kitchen. I was eager to escape Billy'ssearching gaze."Naw, we ate just before we came," Jacob answered."How about you, Charlie?" I called over my shoulder as I fled around the corner."Sure," he replied, his voice moving in the direction of the front room and the TV. I couldhear Billy's chair follow.The grilled cheese sandwiches were in the frying pan and I was slicing up a tomato when Isensed someone behind me."So, how are things?" Jacob asked."Pretty good." I smiled. His enthusiasm was hard to resist. "How about you? Did you finishyour car?""No." He frowned. "I still need parts. We borrowed that one." He pointed with his thumb inthe direction of the front yard."Sorry. I haven't seen any . . . what was it you were looking for?""Master cylinder." He grinned. "Is something wrong with the truck?" he added suddenly."No.""Oh. I just wondered because you weren't driving it."I stared down at the pan, pulling up the edge of a sandwich to check the bottom side. "I got aride with a friend.""Nice ride." Jacob's voice was admiring. "I didn't recognize the driver, though. I thought Iknew most of the kids around here."I nodded noncommittally, keeping my eyes down as I flipped sandwiches."My dad seemed to know him from somewhere.""Jacob, could you hand me some plates? They're in the cupboard over the sink.""Sure."He got the plates in silence. I hoped he would let it drop now."So who was it?" he asked, setting two plates on the counter next to me.I sighed in defeat. "Edward Cullen."To my surprise, he laughed. I glanced up at him. He looked a little embarrassed."Guess that explains it, then," he said. "I wondered why my dad was acting so strange.""That's right." I faked an innocent expression. "He doesn't like the Cullens.""Superstitious old man," Jacob muttered under his breath."You don't think he'd say anything to Charlie?" I couldn't help asking, the words coming outin a low rush.Jacob stared at me for a moment, and I couldn't read the expression in his dark eyes. "I doubtit," he finally answered. "I think Charlie chewed him out pretty good last time. They haven'tspoken much since—tonight is sort of a reunion, I think. I don't think he'd bring it up again.""Oh," I said, trying to sound indifferent.I stayed in the front room after I carried the food out to Charlie, pretending to watch thegame while Jacob chattered at me. I was really listening to the men's conversation, watching forany sign that Billy was about to rat me out, trying to think of ways to stop him if he began.It was a long night. I had a lot of homework that was going undone, but I was afraid to leaveBilly alone with Charlie. Finally, the game ended."Are you and your friends coming back to the beach soon?" Jacob asked as he pushed hisfather over the lip of the threshold."I'm not sure," I hedged."That was fun, Charlie," Billy said."Come up for the next game," Charlie encouraged."Sure, sure," Billy said. "We'll be here. Have a good night." His eyes shifted to mine, and hissmile disappeared. "You take care, Bella," he added seriously."Thanks," I muttered, looking away.I headed for the stairs while Charlie waved from the doorway."Wait, Bella," he said.I cringed. Had Billy gotten something in before I'd joined them in the living room?But Charlie was relaxed, still grinning from the unexpected visit."I didn't get a chance to talk to you tonight. How was your day?""Good." I hesitated with one foot on the first stair, searching for details I could safely share."My badminton team won all four games.""Wow, I didn't know you could play badminton.""Well, actually I can't, but my partner is really good," I admitted."Who is it?" he asked with token interest."Um . . . Mike Newton," I told him reluctantly."Oh yeah—you said you were friends with the Newton kid." He perked up. "Nice family."He mused for a minute. "Why didn't you ask him to the dance this weekend?""Dad!" I groaned. "He's kind of dating my friend Jessica. Besides, you know I can't dance.""Oh yeah," he muttered. Then he smiled at me apologetically. "So I guess it's good you'll begone Saturday . . . I've made plans to go fishing with the guys from the station. The weather'ssupposed to be real warm. But if you wanted to put your trip off till someone could go with you,I'd stay home. I know I leave you here alone too much.""Dad, you're doing a great job." I smiled, hoping my relief didn't show. "I've never mindedbeing alone—I'm too much like you." I winked at him, and he smiled his crinkly-eyed smile.I slept better that night, too tired to dream again. When I woke to the pearl gray morning, mymood was blissful. The tense evening with Billy and Jacob seemed harmless enough now; Idecided to forget it completely. I caught myself whistling while I was pulling the front part of myhair back into a barrette, and later again as I skipped down the stairs. Charlie noticed."You're cheerful this morning," he commented over breakfast.I shrugged. "It's Friday."I hurried so I would be ready to go the second Charlie left. I had my bag ready, shoes on,teeth brushed, but even though I rushed to the door as soon as I was sure Charlie would be out ofsight, Edward was faster. He was waiting in his shiny car, windows down, engine off.I didn't hesitate this time, climbing in the passenger side quickly, the sooner to see his face.He grinned his crooked smile at me, stopping my breath and my heart. I couldn't imagine how anangel could be any more glorious. There was nothing about him that could be improved upon."How did you sleep?" he asked. I wondered if he had any idea how appealing his voice was."Fine. How was your night?""Pleasant." His smile was amused; I felt like I was missing an inside joke."Can I ask what you did?" I asked."No." He grinned. "Today is still mine."He wanted to know about people today: more about Renée, her hobbies, what we'd done inour free time together. And then the one grandmother I'd known, my few school friends—embarrassing me when he asked about boys I'd dated. I was relieved that I'd never really datedanyone, so that particular conversation couldn't last long. He seemed as surprised as Jessica andAngela by my lack of romantic history."So you never met anyone you wanted?" he asked in a serious tone that made me wonderwhat he was thinking about.I was grudgingly honest. "Not in Phoenix."His lips pressed together into a hard line.We were in the cafeteria at this point. The day had sped by in the blur that was rapidlybecoming routine. I took advantage of his brief pause to take a bite of my bagel."I should have let you drive yourself today," he announced, apropos of nothing, while Ichewed."Why?" I demanded."I'm leaving with Alice after lunch.""Oh." I blinked, bewildered and disappointed. "That's okay, it's not that far of a walk."He frowned at me impatiently. "I'm not going to make you walk home. We'll go get yourtruck and leave it here for you.""I don't have my key with me," I sighed. "I really don't mind walking." What I minded waslosing my time with him.He shook his head. "Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition—unlessyou're afraid someone might steal it." He laughed at the thought."All right," I agreed, pursing my lips. I was pretty sure my key was in the pocket of a pair ofjeans I wore Wednesday, under a pile of clothes in the laundry room. Even if he broke into myhouse, or whatever he was planning, he'd never find it. He seemed to feel the challenge in myconsent. He smirked, overconfident."So where are you going?" I asked as casually as I could manage."Hunting," he answered grimly. "If I'm going to be alone with you tomorrow, I'm going totake whatever precautions I can." His face grew morose . . . and pleading. "You can alwayscancel, you know."I looked down, afraid of the persuasive power of his eyes. I refused to be convinced to fearhim, no matter how real the danger might be. It doesn't matter, I repeated in my head."No," I whispered, glancing back at his face. "I can't.""Perhaps you're right," he murmured bleakly. His eyes seemed to darken in color as Iwatched.I changed the subject. "What time will I see you tomorrow?" I asked, already depressed bythe thought of him leaving now."That depends . . . it's a Saturday, don't you want to sleep in?" he offered."No," I answered too fast. He restrained a smile."The same time as usual, then," he decided. "Will Charlie be there?""No, he's fishing tomorrow." I beamed at the memory of how conveniently things hadworked out.His voice turned sharp. "And if you don't come home, what will he think?""I have no idea," I answered coolly. "He knows I've been meaning to do the laundry. Maybehe'll think I fell in the washer."He scowled at me and I scowled back. His anger was much more impressive than mine."What are you hunting tonight?" I asked when I was sure I had lost the glowering contest."Whatever we find in the park. We aren't going far." He seemed bemused by my casualreference to his secret realities."Why are you going with Alice?" I wondered."Alice is the most . . . supportive." He frowned as he spoke."And the others?" I asked timidly. "What are they?"His brow puckered for a brief moment. "Incredulous, for the most part."I peeked quickly behind me at his family. They sat staring off in different directions, exactlythe same as the first time I'd seen them. Only now they were four; their beautiful, bronze-hairedbrother sat across from me, his golden eyes troubled."They don't like me," I guessed."That's not it," he disagreed, but his eyes were too innocent. "They don't understand why Ican't leave you alone."I grimaced. "Neither do I, for that matter."Edward shook his head slowly, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling before he met my gazeagain. "I told you—you don't see yourself clearly at all. You're not like anyone I've ever known.You fascinate me."I glared at him, sure he was teasing now.He smiled as he deciphered my expression. "Having the advantages I do," he murmured,touching his forehead discreetly, "I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People arepredictable. But you . . . you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise."I looked away, my eyes wandering back to his family, embarrassed and dissatisfied. Hiswords made me feel like a science experiment. I wanted to laugh at myself for expectinganything else."That part is easy enough to explain," he continued. I felt his eyes on my face but I couldn'tlook at him yet, afraid he might read the chagrin in my eyes. "But there's more . . . and it's not soeasy to put into words—"I was still staring at the Cullens while he spoke. Suddenly Rosalie, his blond andbreathtaking sister, turned to look at me. No, not to look—to glare, with dark, cold eyes. Iwanted to look away, but her gaze held me until Edward broke off mid-sentence and made anangry 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 knewhe 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'sdangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly . . ." Helooked down."If?""If this ends . . . badly." He dropped his head into his hands, as he had that night in PortAngeles. His anguish was plain; I yearned to comfort him, but I was at a loss to know how. Myhand reached toward him involuntarily; quickly, though, I dropped it to the table, fearing that mytouch would only make things worse. I realized slowly that his words should frighten me. Iwaited 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. Ididn'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 hesmiled. "It's probably for the best. We still have fifteen minutes of that wretched movie left toendure 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, elfinface—was suddenly standing behind his shoulder. Her slight frame was willowy, graceful evenin 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 smileon his face."Hello, Bella." Her brilliant obsidian eyes were unreadable, but her smile was friendly. "It'snice 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 ofjealousy."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 fraughtwith 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 thetable to touch my face, lightly brushing along my cheekbone again. Then he turned and walkedaway. 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 instinctstopped 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. Irefused 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. Ourrelationship couldn't continue to balance, as it did, on the point of a knife. We would fall off oneedge 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. Becausethere was nothing more terrifying to me, more excruciating, than the thought of turning awayfrom him. It was an impossibility.I went to class, feeling dutiful. I couldn't honestly say what happened in Biology; my mindwas too preoccupied with thoughts of tomorrow. In Gym, Mike was speaking to me again; hewished me a good time in Seattle. I carefully explained that I'd canceled my trip, worried aboutmy 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 theweekend." 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—thatwould 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 didnot 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 instinctproved correct—my truck sat in the same space he'd parked his Volvo in this morning. I shookmy 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 Iunfolded 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 itthis 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 keyup after all, I thought, shaking my head.Following the same instinct that had prompted me to lie to Mike, I called Jessica on thepretense of wishing her luck at the dance. When she offered the same wish for my day withEdward, I told her about the cancellation. She was more disappointed than really necessary for athird-party observer to be. I said goodbye quickly after that.Charlie was absentminded at dinner, worried over something at work, I guessed, or maybe abasketball game, or maybe he was just really enjoying the lasagna—it was hard to tell withCharlie."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 withme.""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 havefun.""Are you sure?""Absolutely, Dad. Besides, the freezer is getting dangerously low on fish—we're down to atwo, 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 adviceand told him where I would be. Almost.After dinner, I folded clothes and moved another load through the dryer. Unfortunately it wasthe kind of job that only keeps hands busy. My mind definitely had too much free time, and itwas getting out of control. I fluctuated between anticipation so intense that it was very nearlypain, and an insidious fear that picked at my resolve. I had to keep reminding myself that I'dmade my choice, and I wasn't going back on it. I pulled his note out of my pocket much moreoften than necessary to absorb the two small words he'd written. He wants me to be safe, I toldmyself 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.But a tiny voice in the back of my mind worried, wondering if it would hurt very much . . . ifit ended badly.I was relieved when it was late enough to be acceptable for bedtime. I knew I was far toostressed to sleep, so I did something I'd never done before. I deliberately took unnecessary coldmedicine—the kind that knocked me out for a good eight hours. I normally wouldn't condonethat type of behavior in myself, but tomorrow would be complicated enough without me beingloopy from sleep deprivation on top of everything else. While I waited for the drugs to kick in, Idried my clean hair till it was impeccably straight, and fussed over what I would wear tomorrow.With everything ready for the morning, I finally lay in my bed. I felt hyper; I couldn't stoptwitching. I got up and rifled through my shoebox of CDs until I found a collection of Chopin'snocturnes. I put that on very quietly and then lay down again, concentrating on relaxingindividual parts of my body. Somewhere in the middle of that exercise, the cold pills took effect,and I gladly sank into unconsciousness.I woke early, having slept soundly and dreamlessly thanks to my gratuitous drug use. Though Iwas well rested, I slipped right back into the same hectic frenzy from the night before. I dressedin a rush, smoothing my collar against my neck, fidgeting with the tan sweater till it hung rightover my jeans. I sneaked a swift look out the window to see that Charlie was already gone. Athin, cottony layer of clouds veiled the sky. They didn't look very lasting.I ate breakfast without tasting the food, hurrying to clean up when I was done. I peeked outthe window again, but nothing had changed. I had just finished brushing my teeth and washeading back downstairs when a quiet knock sent my heart thudding against my rib cage.I flew to the door; I had a little trouble with the simple deadbolt, but I yanked the door openat last, and there he was. All the agitation dissolved as soon as I looked at his face, calm takingits place. I breathed a sigh of relief—yesterday's fears seemed very foolish with him here.He wasn't smiling at first—his face was somber. But then his expression lightened as helooked me over, and he laughed."Good morning," he chuckled."What's wrong?" I glanced down to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything important, likeshoes, or pants."We match." He laughed again. I realized he had a long, light tan sweater on, with a whitecollar showing underneath, and blue jeans. I laughed with him, hiding a secret twinge of regret—why did he have to look like a runway model when I couldn't?I locked the door behind me while he walked to the truck. He waited by the passenger doorwith a martyred expression that was easy to understand."We made a deal," I reminded him smugly, climbing into the driver's seat, and reaching overto unlock his door."Where to?" I asked."Put your seat belt on—I'm nervous already."I gave him a dirty look as I complied."Where to?" I repeated with a sigh."Take the one-oh-one north," he ordered.It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while feeling his gaze on my face. Icompensated by driving more carefully than usual through the still-sleeping town."Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?""This truck is old enough to be your car's grandfather—have some respect," I retorted.We were soon out of the town limits, despite his negativity. Thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks replaced the lawns and houses."Turn right on the one-ten," he instructed just as I was about to ask. I obeyed silently."Now we drive until the pavement ends."I could hear a smile in his voice, but I was too afraid of driving off the road and proving himright to look over and be sure."And what's there, at the pavement's end?" I wondered."A trail.""We're hiking?" Thank goodness I'd worn tennis shoes."Is that a problem?" He sounded as if he'd expected as much."No." I tried to make the lie sound confident. But if he thought my truck was slow . . ."Don't worry, it's only five miles or so, and we're in no hurry."Five miles. I didn't answer, so that he wouldn't hear my voice crack in panic. Five miles oftreacherous roots and loose stones, trying to twist my ankles or otherwise incapacitate me. Thiswas going to be humiliating.We drove in silence for a while as I contemplated the coming horror."What are you thinking?" he asked impatiently after a few moments.I lied again. "Just wondering where we're going.""It's a place I like to go when the weather is nice." We both glanced out the windows at thethinning clouds after he spoke."Charlie said it would be warm today.""And did you tell Charlie what you were up to?" he asked."Nope.""But Jessica thinks we're going to Seattle together?" He seemed cheered by the idea."No, I told her you canceled on me—which is true.""No one knows you're with me?" Angrily, now."That depends . . . I assume you told Alice?""That's very helpful, Bella," he snapped.I pretended I didn't hear that."Are you so depressed by Forks that it's made you suicidal?" he demanded when I ignoredhim."You said it might cause trouble for you . . . us being together publicly," I reminded him."So you're worried about the trouble it might cause me—if you don't come home?" His voicewas still angry, and bitingly sarcastic.I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road.He muttered something under his breath, speaking so quickly that I couldn't understand.We were silent for the rest of the drive. I could feel the waves of infuriated disapprovalrolling off of him, and I could think of nothing to say.And then the road ended, constricting to a thin foot trail with a small wooden marker. Iparked on the narrow shoulder and stepped out, afraid because he was angry with me and I didn'thave driving as an excuse not to look at him. It was warm now, warmer than it had been in Forks since the day I'd arrived, almost muggy under the clouds. I pulled off my sweater and knotted itaround my waist, glad that I'd worn the light, sleeveless shirt—especially if I had five miles ofhiking ahead of me.I heard his door slam, and looked over to see that he'd removed his sweater, too. He wasfacing away from me, into the unbroken forest beside my truck."This way," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me, eyes still annoyed. He started into thedark forest."The trail?" Panic was clear in my voice as I hurried around the truck to catch up to him."I said there was a trail at the end of the road, not that we were taking it.""No trail?" I asked desperately."I won't let you get lost." He turned then, with a mocking smile, and I stifled a gasp. Hiswhite shirt was sleeveless, and he wore it unbuttoned, so that the smooth white skin of his throatflowed uninterrupted over the marble contours of his chest, his perfect musculature no longermerely hinted at behind concealing clothes. He was too perfect, I realized with a piercing stab ofdespair. There was no way this godlike creature could be meant for me.He stared at me, bewildered by my tortured expression."Do you want to go home?" he said quietly, a different pain than mine saturating his voice."No." I walked forward till I was close beside him, anxious not to waste one second ofwhatever time I might have with him."What's wrong?" he asked, his voice gentle."I'm not a good hiker," I answered dully. "You'll have to be very patient.""I can be patient—if I make a great effort." He smiled, holding my glance, trying to lift meout of my sudden, unexplained dejection.I tried to smile back, but the smile was unconvincing. He scrutinized my face."I'll take you home," he promised. I couldn't tell if the promise was unconditional, orrestricted to an immediate departure. I knew he thought it was fear that upset me, and I wasgrateful again that I was the one person whose mind he couldn't hear."If you want me to hack five miles through the jungle before sundown, you'd better startleading the way," I said acidly. He frowned at me, struggling to understand my tone andexpression.He gave up after a moment and led the way into the forest.It wasn't as hard as I had feared. The way was mostly flat, and he held the damp ferns andwebs of moss aside for me. When his straight path took us over fallen trees or boulders, he wouldhelp me, lifting me by the elbow, and then releasing me instantly when I was clear. His coldtouch on my skin never failed to make my heart thud erratically. Twice, when that happened, Icaught a look on his face that made me sure he could somehow hear it.I tried to keep my eyes away from his perfection as much as possible, but I slipped often.Each time, his beauty pierced me through with sadness.For the most part, we walked in silence. Occasionally he would ask a random question thathe hadn't gotten to in the past two days of interrogation. He asked about my birthdays, my gradeschool teachers, my childhood pets—and I had to admit that after killing three fish in a row, I'dgiven up on the whole institution. He laughed at that, louder than I was used to—bell-like echoesbouncing back to us from the empty woods.The hike took me most of the morning, but he never showed any sign of impatience. Theforest spread out around us in a boundless labyrinth of ancient trees, and I began to be nervous that we would never find our way out again. He was perfectly at ease, comfortable in the greenmaze, never seeming to feel any doubt about our direction.After several hours, the light that filtered through the canopy transformed, the murky olivetone shifting to a brighter jade. The day had turned sunny, just as he'd foretold. For the first timesince we'd entered the woods, I felt a thrill of excitement—which quickly turned to impatience."Are we there yet?" I teased, pretending to scowl."Nearly." He smiled at the change in my mood. "Do you see the brightness ahead?"I peered into the thick forest. "Um, should I?"He smirked. "Maybe it's a bit soon for your eyes.""Time to visit the optometrist," I muttered. His smirk grew more pronounced.But then, after another hundred yards, I could definitely see a lightening in the trees ahead, aglow that was yellow instead of green. I picked up the pace, my eagerness growing with everystep. He let me lead now, following noiselessly.I reached the edge of the pool of light and stepped through the last fringe of ferns into theloveliest place I had ever seen. The meadow was small, perfectly round, and filled withwildflowers—violet, yellow, and soft white. Somewhere nearby, I could hear the bubbling musicof a stream. The sun was directly overhead, filling the circle with a haze of buttery sunshine. Iwalked slowly, awestruck, through the soft grass, swaying flowers, and warm, gilded air. Ihalfway turned, wanting to share this with him, but he wasn't behind me where I thought he'dbe. I spun around, searching for him with sudden alarm. Finally I spotted him, still under thedense shade of the canopy at the edge of the hollow, watching me with cautious eyes. Only thendid I remember what the beauty of the meadow had driven from my mind—the enigma ofEdward and the sun, which he'd promised to illustrate for me today.I took a step back toward him, my eyes alight with curiosity. His eyes were wary, reluctant. Ismiled encouragingly and beckoned to him with my hand, taking another step back to him. Heheld up a hand in warning, and I hesitated, rocking back onto my heels.Edward seemed to take a deep breath, and then he stepped out into the bright glow of themidday sun.