Kidnapped for Love

Chapter 2- One week later

How did you like the last chapter? Sorry if it was a little short, I'm still deciding how I want this story to fall out!:)

Please remember, Stephanie Meyer owns the characters, but I own the plot! This chapter has parts that are used in Twilight, so if it seems familiar it's because I edited it a little, but still used her writing!

Enjoy!

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Bella's P.O.V.


It has been one week.

One long week.

Edward hasn't been in school for one week.

A long week.

I walked into the cafeteria doors with Mike. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about the snow fight he was planning (that I would take no part in,) as we got in line to buy food. I glanced toward that table in the corner out of habit. Everyday of this week, I would look over to Edward's siblings'table to see if he was there. And then I froze where I stood. There were five people at the table.

Jessica pulled on my arm.

"Hello? Bella? What do you want?"

I looked down; my ears were hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I hadn't done anything wrong.

"What's with Bella?" Mike asked Jessica.

"Nothing," I answered. "I'll just get a soda today." I caught up to the end of the line.

"Aren't you hungry?" Jessica asked.

"Actually, I feel a little sick," I said, my eyes still on the floor.

I waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table, my eyes on my feet.

I sipped my soda slowly, my stomach churning. Twice Mike asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling.

I told him it was nothing, but I was wondering if I should play it up and escape to the nurse's office for the next hour.

Ridiculous. I shouldn't have to run away.

I decided to permit myself one glance at the Cullen family's table. If he was glaring at me, I would skip Biology, like the coward I was.

I kept my head down and glanced up under my lashes.

None of them were looking this way.

I lifted my head a little more.

They were laughing. Edward, Jasper, and Emmett all had their hair entirely saturated with melting snow. Alice and Rosalie were leaning away as Emmett shook his dripping hair toward them. They were enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else -- only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

But, aside from the laughter and playfulness, there was something different, and I couldn't quite pinpoint what that difference was.

I examined Edward the most carefully.

"Bella, what are you staring at?" Jessica intruded, her eyes following my stare.

At that precise moment, Edward's eyes flashed over to meet mine.

I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to cover my face. I was sure, though, in the instant our eyes met, that he didn't look harsh like the last time I'd seen him. He looked merely curious, unsatisfied in some way.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jessica giggled in my ear.

"He doesn't look angry, does he?" I couldn't help asking.

"No," she said, sounding confused by my question. "Should he be?"

"I don't think he likes me," I said. I still felt queasy. I put my head down on my arm.

"The Cullen's don't like anybody...well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them. But he's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at him," I hissed.

She snickered, but she looked away. I raised my head enough to make sure that she did, satisfied when she joined Mike's conversation on the upcoming snow battle.

I decided to honor the bargain I'd made with myself. Since he didn't look angry, I would go to biology. My stomach did frightened little flips at the thought of sitting next to him again.

I didn't really want to walk to class with Mike as usual -- he seemed to be a popular
target for the snowball snipers -- but when we went to the door, everyone besides me
groaned in unison.

It was raining, washing all traces of the snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the side of the walkway. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I would be free to go straight home after Gym.

Mike kept up a string of complaints on the way to building four.

Once inside the classroom, I saw that my table was still empty.

Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation.

I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook.

I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing.

"Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but his chair was angled toward me. His hair was dripping wet, disheveled. His dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his flawless lips. But his eyes were careful.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now. I had to speak; he was waiting. But I couldn't think of anything conventional to say.

"H-how do you know my name?" I stammered.

He laughed a soft, enchanting laugh.

"Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town's been waiting for you to arrive."

I grimaced. I figured they would.

"No," I persisted stupidly. "I meant, why did you call me Bella?"

He seemed confused. "Do you prefer Isabella?"

"No, I like Bella," I said. "But I think Charlie -- I mean my dad -- must call me
Isabella behind my back -- that's what everyone here seems to know me as," I tried to
explain, feeling like an idiot.

"Oh." He let it drop. I looked away.

Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today.

Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the
phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to
use our books. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.

"Get started," he commanded.

"Ladies first, partner?" Edward asked. I looked up to see him smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that I could only stare at him like a moron.

"Or I could start, if you wish." The smile faded.

"No," I said, blushing. "I'll go ahead."
I'd already done this lab in Phoenix, and I knew what I was looking for. It should be easy. I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective.

I studied the slide briefly.

My answer was confident." Prophase."

"Do you mind if I look?" he asked as I began to remove the slide. His hand caught
mine, to stop me, as he asked.

His fingers were ice-cold, like he'd been holding them in a
snowdrift before class. But that wasn't why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When he
touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling his hand back immediately. However, he continued to
reach for the microscope. I watched him, still staggered, as he examined the slide for an
even shorter time than I had.

"Prophase," he agreed, writing it neatly in the first space on our worksheet. He swiftly
switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it cursorily.

"Anaphase," he murmured, writing it down as he spoke.

"May I?"

He smirked and pushed the microscope to me.

I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed. Dang it, he was right.

"Slide three?" I held out my hand without looking at him.

He handed it to me; it seemed like he was being careful not to touch my skin again. I took the most fleeting look I could manage.

"Interphase." I passed him the microscope before he could ask for it. He took a swift peek, and then wrote it down.

We were finished before anyone else was close. I could see Mike and his partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open under the table.

Which left me with nothing to do but try to not look at him... unsuccessfully. I glanced up, and he was staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes.

Suddenly I identified that subtle difference in his face.

"Did you get contacts?" I blurted out unthinkingly.

He seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. "No."

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes."

He shrugged, and looked away.

In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the coal black color of his eyes the last time he'd glared at me -- the color was striking against the background of his pale skin and his bronze hair.

Today, his eyes were a completely different color: a strange gold, darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tone. I didn't understand how that could be, unless he was lying for some reason about the contacts.

Or maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word.

I looked down. His hands were clenched into hard fists again.

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, and then stared more intently to check the answers.

"So, Edward, didn't you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?" Mr. Banner asked.

"Bella," Edward corrected. "Actually, she identified three of the five."

Mr. Banner looked at me now; his expression was skeptical.

"Have you done this lab before?" he asked.

I smiled sheepishly. "Not with onion root."

"Whitefish blastula?"

"Yes."

Mr. Banner nodded. "Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix ?"

"Yes." I repeated.

"Well," he said after a moment, "I guess it's good you two are lab partners." He mumbled something else as he walked away. After he left, I began doodling on my notebook again.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Edward asked.

I had the feeling that he was

forcing himself to make small talk with me. Paranoia swept over me again. It was like he
had heard my conversation with Jessica at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong.

"Not really," I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else.

I was still trying to dislodge the stupid feeling of suspicion, and I couldn't concentrate.

"You don't like the cold." It wasn't a question.

"Or the wet."

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live," he mused.

"You have no idea," I muttered.

He looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn't imagine.

"Why did you come here, then?"

No one had asked me that -- not straight out like he did, demanding.

"It's... complicated."

"I think I can keep up," he pressed.

I paused for a long moment, and then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His dark gold eyes confused me, and I answered without thinking.

"My mother got remarried," I said.

"That doesn't sound so complex," he disagreed, but he was suddenly sympathetic. "When did that happen?"

"Last September." I said sadly.

"And you don't like him," Edward assumed, his tone still kind.

"No, Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice enough."

"Why didn't you stay with them?"

I couldn't fathom his interest, but he continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes, as if my dull life's story was somehow vitally important.

"Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living." I smiled.

"Have I heard of him?" he asked, smiling in response.

"Probably not. He doesn't play well. Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot."

"And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him." He said as an assumption again, not a question.

My chin raised a fraction." No, she did not send me here. I sent myself."

His eyebrows knit together. "I don't understand," he admitted, and he seemed unnecessarily frustrated by that fact.

I sighed. Why was I explaining this to him? He continued to stare at me with obvious curiosity.

"She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. It made her unhappy... so I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie." My voice was glum by the time I finished.

"But now you're unhappy," he pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"That doesn't seem fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were still intense.

I laughed without humor. "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."

"I believe I have heard that somewhere before," he agreed dryly.

"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why he was still staring at me that way.

His gaze became appraising. "You put on a good show," he said slowly. "But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I grimaced at him, resisting the impulse to stick out my tongue like a five-year-old, and looked away.

"Am I wrong?"

I tried to ignore him.

"I didn't think so," he murmured smugly.

"Why does it matter to you ?" I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds.

"That's a very good question," he muttered, so quietly that I wondered if he was talking to himself.

However, after a few seconds of silence, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get.

I sighed, scowling at the blackboard.

"Am I annoying you?" he asked. He sounded amused.

I glanced at him without thinking... and told the truth again." Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read -- my mother always calls me her open book." I frowned.

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and he'd guessed, he sounded like he meant it.

"You must be a good reader then," I replied.

"Usually." He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultrawhite teeth.

Mr. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned with relief to listen. I was in disbelief that I'd just explained my dreary life to this bizarre, beautiful boy who may or may not despise me.

He'd seemed engrossed in our conversation, but now I could see, from the corner of my eye, that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.

I tried to appear attentive as Mr. Banner illustrated, with transparencies on the overhead projector, what I had seen without difficulty through the microscope. But my thoughts
were unmanageable.

When the bell finally rang, Edward rushed as swiftly and as gracefully from the room
as he had last Monday. And, like last Monday, I stared after him in amazement.



***



Edward's P.O.V.

I drove my silver Volvo to school today, the first day in a week. I had spent the past few days in my room, thinking and perfecting my plan.


It should be easier to resist today, just don't push it. Alice had thought before I had left.

She was the only one who knew what I had been planning, though Carlisle was suspicious and Esme was getting worried. The others just thought I was wierd. I made it through lunch okay, going with the scene Alice had prepared for us when Bella glanced over to our table.

The bell soon rang for lunch, and I trudged -unnaturally ungraceful, for a vampire- to biology.

***

I walked out, my eyes still gold, but having made two slip ups in one hour.

I had feinged kindness and asked about her, actually fascinated with some of the answers I had recieved. The fire, however, was still strong in my throath, and the monster inside me wanted me to drain her now, but I resisted.

All in good time.......



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