Part 5: Blood Type

5.BLOOD TYPE

I made my way to English in a daze. I didn't even realize when I first walked in thatclass 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 soundeager, 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 avery convincing dream that I'd confused with reality. That seemed more probable thanthat 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 hadasked the other boys and they were all going together — completely unaware of my in attention.

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 myabstraction 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 atme 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 Istared in disbelief, he winked.

"Does he mean you ?" Jessica asked with insulting astonishment 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 ina 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 aslong 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 eventually pointed out."

I know." He smiled again, and then he changed the subject. "I think your friends areangry 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 allthis on?"

"I told you — I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up." He wasstill 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 intohis 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 goodfriend 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'resmart, you'll avoid me."

"I think you've made your opinion on the subject of my intellect 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 theconfusing 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.

He chuckled. "What are your theories?"

I blushed. I had been vacillating during the last month between Bruce Wayne and PeterParker. There was no way I was going to own up to that.

"Won't you tell me?" he asked, tilting his head to one side with a shockingly tempting smile.

I shook my head. "Too embarrassing."

"That's really frustrating, you know," he complained.

"No," I disagreed quickly, my eyes narrowing, "I can't imagine why that would befrustrating at all — just because someone refuses to tell you what they're thinking, even ifall the while they're making cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep you up atnight wondering what they could possibly mean… now, why would that be frustrating?"He grimaced.

"Or better," I continued, the pent-up annoyance flowing freely now, "say that personalso did a wide range of bizarre things — from saving your life under impossiblecircumstances one day to treating you like a pariah the next, and he never explained anyof that, either, even after he promised. That, also, would be very non-frustrating."

"You've got a bit of a temper, don't you?"

"I don't like double standards."

We stared at each other, unsmiling.

He glanced over my shoulder, and then, unexpectedly, he snickered.

"What?"

"Your boyfriend seems to think I'm being unpleasant to you — he's debating whether ornot to come break up our fight." He snickered again.

"I don't know who you're talking about," I said frostily. "But I'm sure you're wrong,anyway."

"I'm not. I told you, most people are easy to read."

"Except me, of course."

"Yes. Except for you." His mood shifted suddenly; his eyes turned brooding. "I wonderwhy that is."

I had to look away from the intensity of his stare. I concentrated on unscrewing the lidof my lemonade. I took a swig, staring at the table without seeing it.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked, distracted.

"No." I didn't feel like mentioning that my stomach was already full — of butterflies.

"You?" I looked at the empty table in front of him.

"No, I'm not hungry." I didn't understand his expression — it looked like he was enjoying some private joke.

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked after a second of hesitation.

He was suddenly wary. "That depends on what you want."

"It's not much," I assured him.

He waited, guarded but curious.

"I just wondered… if you could warn me beforehand the next time you decide to ignoreme for my own good. Just so I'm prepared." I looked at the lemonade bottle as I spoke,tracing the circle of the opening with my pinkie finger.

"That sounds fair." He was pressing his lips together to keep from laughing when I looked up.

"Thanks."

"Then can I have one answer in return?" he demanded.

"One."

"Tell me one theory."

Whoops. "Not that one."

"You didn't qualify, you just promised one answer," he reminded me.

"And you've broken promises yourself," I reminded him back.

"Just one theory — I won't laugh."

"Yes, you will." I was positive about that.

He looked down, and then glanced up at me through his long black lashes, his ochereyes scorching.

"Please?" he breathed, leaning toward me.

I blinked, my mind going blank. Holy crow, how did he do that?

"Er, what?" I asked, dazed.

"Please tell me just one little theory." His eyes still smoldered at me.

"Um, well, bitten by a radioactive spider?" Was he a hypnotist, too? Or was I just ahopeless pushover?

"That's not very creative," he scoffed.

"I'm sorry, that's all I've got," I said, miffed.

"You're not even close," he teased.

"No spiders?"

"Nope."

"And no radioactivity?"

"None."

"Dang," I sighed.

"Kryptonite doesn't bother me, either," he chuckled.

"You're not supposed to laugh, remember?"

He struggled to compose his face."I'll figure it out eventually," I warned him."I wish you wouldn't try." He was serious again.

"Because… ?"

“What if I’m not a superhero? What if I’m the bad guy?” he smiled playfully, but his eyes were impenetrable. Usually the eyes told everything, but Edward had this power to shut off the window inside. I couldn’t read him thoroughly.

“Oh,” I said, as sever things he’d hinted suddenly fell into place. “I see.”

“Do you?” His face was abruptly severe, as if he were afraid that he’d accidentally said too much.
“You’re dangerous?” I guessed, my pulse quickened as I intuitively realized the truth of my own words. He was dangerous. He’d been trying to tell me that all along.

He just looked at me, eyes full of some emotion I couldn’t comprehend.

“But not bad,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No, I refuse to believe that you’re bad.”

“You’re wrong.” his voice was almost inaudible. He looked down stealing my bottle lid and then spinning it on it’s side between his white, long, slender fingers. I stared at him, wondering why I didn’t feel afraid. He meant what he was saying- that was obvious. But I just felt anxious, on edge at the most...but what’s more I just felt fascinated by him. The same way I always felt near him. He seemed to make everything in my life seem so meaningless, and the more I was near him it seemed, it would lessen the pain I felt everyday. Everyday I felt pain for losing my parents.

The silence lasted until I noticed that the cafeteria was empty.

I jumped up to my feet my chair scooting back with a screech and I clenched my jaw tight...I hated that noise. “We’re going to be late.”

“I’m not going to class today,” he said, twirling the lid so fast it was just a blur.

“Why not?”

“It’s healthy to ditch class now and then.” He smiled up at me, but his eyes were still troubled.

“Well, I’m going,” I told him. I was far to big of a coward to get caught. I just had that sense, and besides I never ditched- I lie, I did it once, but that time had it’s reasons.

He turned his attention back to his makeshift top. “I’ll see you later, then.”

I hesitated more than I already was, torn, but then the first bell sent me hurrying out the door- with a last glance confirming that he hadn’t moved a centimeter.

As I half-ran to class, my head was spinning faster than that bottle cap. So few questions had been answered in comparison to how many new questions had been raised.

At least the rain had stopped.

I was lucky; Mr. Banner wasn’t in the room yet when I arrived. I settled quicky into my seat, aware that both Mike and Angela were staring at me. Mike looked resentful; Angela looked surprised and slightly awed.

Mr. Banner came into the room then, calling the class to order. He was juggling a few small cardboard boxes in his arms. He put them down on Mikes’s table, telling him to start passing them around to the class.

“Alright, guys, I want you to all take on piece from each box,” he said as he produced a pair of rubber gloves from the pocket of his lab jacket and pulled them on. Creepy much when he does it. The sharp sound as the gloves snapped into place against his wrists seemed ominous to me. “The first should be an indicator card,” he went on, grabbing a white card with four squares marked on it and displaying it. “The second is a four-pronged applicator-,” he held up something that looked like a nearly toothless hair pick. “- and the third is a sterile micro-lancet.” He held up a small piece of blue plastic and split it open. The barb was invisible from this distance, but my stomach flipped. These types of things were used for diabetes testings. I’d seen them at the hospital cause of Adam, he frequently checks on diabetes patients.

“I’ll be comming around with a dropper of water to prepare your cards, so please don’t start until I get to you,” he bega at Mike’s table again, carefully putting one drop of water in each of the four squares. “Then I want you to carefully prick your finger with the lancet...” he grabbed Mike’s hand and jabbed the spike into the tip of Mike’s middle finger. Oh no. Clammy moisture broke out across my forehead and my stomach twisted into a knot. I felt my jaw clench up and so did my fists.

“Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs.” He demonstrated, squeezing Mike’s finger till the blood flowed. I swallowed convulsively, my stomach heaving. Blood, made me noxious.
“And then apply to the card,” he finished, holding up the dripping red card for us to see. I closed my eyes, trying to hear through the ringing in my ears.

“The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I thought you should all know your blood type.” I already know it! It’s O ! Now let me get out of here!!! He sounded proud of himself. “Those of you who aren’t eighteen yet will need a parent’s permission- I have slips at my desk.”

He continued through the room with his water drops. I put my cheek against the cool black tabletop and tried to hold on to my consciousness. All around me I could hear squeals, complaints, and giggles as my classmates skewered their fingers. I breathed slowly through my mouth.

“Andie, are you alright?” Mr. Banner asked. His voice was close to my head, and it sounded alarmed.

“I already know my blood type, Mr. Banner,” I said in a weak voice. I was afraid to raise my head...if I did who know’s I might pass out.

“Are you feeling faint?”

“Yes, sire, very,” I muttered, internally kicking myself for not ditching when I had the chance.

“Can someone take Andie to the nurse, please?” he called.

I didn’t have to look up to know that it would be mike who volunteered.

“Can you walk?” Mr. Banner asked.

“Yes.” I whispered. Just get me out of here! I thought. Hell, I’ll crawl if I have to.

Mike seemed eager as he put his arm around my waist and pulled my arm over his shoulder. I leaned against him heavily on the way out of the classroom.

Mike towed me slowly across campus. When we were around the edge of the cafeteria, out of sight of building four in case Mr. Banner was watching, I stopped.

“Just let me sit for a moment, please.” I begged.

He helped me sit on the edge of the walk, since it was kind of hard to get down on the ground with six inch heel boots.

“And, whatever you do, keep your hand in your pocket,” I warned. I was still so dizzy. I slumped over on my side, putting my cheek against the freezing, damp cement of the side walk, closing my eyes. That seemed to help a little.

“Wow, you’re green Andie,” Mike said nervously.

“Andie?” a different voice called from the distance.

No! Please let me be imagining his voice.

“What’s wrong- is she hurt?” His voice was closer now, and he sounded upset. I wasn’t imagining it. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to die as I felt my black hair fall over my face a bit. Or at the very least if I didn’t die, I just didn’t want to throw up...not in front of him.

Mike seemed stressed. “I think she’s fainted. I don’t know what happened, she didn’t even stick her finger.”

“Andie.” Edward’s voice was right beside me, relieved now. “Can you hear me?”

“No, of course not.” I groaned. “Go away.”

He chuckled.

“I was taking her to the nurse,” Mike explained in a defensive tone. Don’t get jealous. “but she wouldn’t go any further.”

“I’ll take her,” Edward said. I could hear the smile still in his voice. “You can go back to class.
“No,” Mike protested. “I’m supposed to do it.”

Suddenly the sidewalk disappeared beneath me. My eyes flew open in shock. Edward had scooped me up in his arms, as easily if I weighed ten pounds instead of a hundred and eight.
“Put me down!” Please, please let me not vomit on him! That’s the last thing I needed. He was walking before I was finished talking.

“Hey!” Mike called, already ten paces behind us.

Edward just ignored him. “You look awful,” he told me, grinning.

“Please, Edward, put me down on the sidewalk,” I moaned. The rocking movment of his walk was not helping. He held me away from his body, gingerly supporting all his weight with just his arms- it didn’t seem to bother him at all.

“So you faint at the sight of blood?” he asked. This seemed to entertain him.

I didn’t answer. I closed my eyes and again fought the nausea with all my strength, clamping my lips together.

“And not even your own blood,” he continued, enjoying himself.

I don’t know how he opened the door while still carrying me, but it was suddenly warm, so I knew we where inside.

“Oh my,” I heard a female voice gasp.

“She fainted in Biology,” Edward explained.

I cracked my eyes open slightly. I was in the office, and edward was striding past the front counter towards the nurse’s door. Ms. Cope, the redheaded front receptionist, ran ahead of him to hold it open. The grandmotherly nurse looked up from a novel, astonished, as Edward swung me into the room and placed me gently on the crackly paper that covered the brown vinyl mattress on the one cot. Then he moved to stand against the wall as far across the narrow room as possible. His eyes were bright, excited.

“She’s just a little faint,” he reassured the startled nurse. “They’re blood typing in Biology.”

The nurse nodded sagely. “There’s always one.”

He muffled a snicker.

“Just lie down for a minute, honey; it’ll pass.”

“I know,” I sighed. I could already feel the nausea starting to pass.

“Does it happen a lot?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” I admitted. Edward then coughed to conceal another laugh.

“You can go back to class now,” she told him.

“I’m supposed to stay with her.” He said this with such assured authority that- even though she pursed her lips- the nurse didn’t argue it any further.

“I’ll go get some ice for your forehead, dear,” she said to me, and then bustled out of the room.
“You were right,” I moaned, letting my eyes close.

“I usually am- but what about in particular this time?”

“Ditching is healthy.” I practiced breathing evenly...it kind of sounded like labor breathing.

“You scared me for a minute there,” he admitted after a pause. His tone made it sound like he was confessing a humiliating weakness. I thought Newton was dragging your dead body off to bury it in the woods.”

“Ha Ha,” I said sarcastically but couldn’t contain my giggle. I still had my eyes closed, but I was feeling more normal every minute.

“Honestly- I’ve seen corpses with better color. I was concerned that I might have to avenger your murder.”

“Poor Mike. I’ll be he’s mad.”

“He absolutely loathes me,” Edward said cheerfully. Edward’s too cute.

“You can’t know that,” I argued, but then suddenly wondered if he could.

“I saw his face- I could tell.”

“How did you see me? I thought you were ditching?” I was almost fine now, though the queasiness would probably have passed faster if I’d eaten something for lunch, but instead I endured on a empty stomach. But on the other hand maybe it was lucky my stomach was empty. Yet again I say- last thing I need is to throw up in front of Edward.

“I was in my car, listening to a CD.” Such a normal response- It surprised me.

I heard the door open and I too opened my eyes to see the nurse with a cold compress in her hand.

“Here you go, dear.” she laid it across my forehead. “You’re looking a lot better.” she added.
“I think I’m fine now.” I said sitting up my long hair cascading down my back. Just a little ringing in my ears, no spinning. The mint green walks stayed where they should.

I could see she was about to make me lie back down, but the door opened just then, and Ms. Cope stuck her head in.

“We’ve got another one,” she warned.

I hopped down to free up the cot for the next invalid who felt like crap.

I handed the nurse the compress back. “Thank you, but I don’t need this now.”

And then Mike staggered through the door, now supporting a sallow-looking Lee Stephens, another boy in our Biology class. Edward and I drew back against the wall to give them room.

“Oh no,” Edward muttered. “Get out to the office, Andie.”

I looked up at him, bewildered.

“Trust me- go.”

I spun quickly and caught the door before it closed, darting out with a wave of my hair out of the infirmary. I could feel Edward right behind me.

“You actually listened to me.” he was stunned.

“I smelled the blood,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Lee wasn’t sick from watching other people, unlike me.”

“People can smell blood,” he contradicted.

“Well, I can- it’s what makes me sick. It smells like rust- and salt, and each and every time I see it, I get a mad rush and my body tenses up a million times over.”

He was then staring at me with an unfathomable expression.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s nothing.”

Mike came through the door then, glancing from me to Edward. The look he gave Edward confirmed what Edward had said about loathing. He looked back at me in this accusing manner. It kind of put me off.

“You look better.” he accused.

“Just keep your hand in your pocket,” I warned him again.

“It’s not bleeding anymore,” he muttered. “Are you going back to class?”

“Are you kidding Mike, I’d just turn around and come back.”

“Yeah, I guess...So are you going this weekend? To the beach?” While he spoke, he flashed another glare towards Edward, who was standing against the cluttered counter, motionless as a sculpture and staring off into space with a cute look on his handsome features.

I tired to sound as friendly as possibly. “Sure, I said I was in.”

“We’re meeting at my dad’s store, at ten.” His eyes flickered to Edward again, wondering if he was giving out too much information. His body language made it clear that it wasn’t an open invitation.

“I’ll be there,” I promised. “I wont go back on my word, you know that.”

“I’ll see you in Gym, then, we might be having a free day, so we could go play soccer.” He looked at me once more, his round face slightly pouting, and then he walked slowly through the door, his shoulders slumped. A swell of sympathy washed over me. I pondered seeing his disappointed face in Gym.

“Great, another day to kick a ball in some bystanders face...out of anger.” I groaned.

“I can take care of that.” I hadn’t noticed Edward moving to my side, but he spoke now in my ear. “Go sit down and look pale.” he muttered.

I chuckled.

“Oh that’ll be easy.” and he chuckled too. This wasn’t a challenge; I was always pale, and my recent swoon had left a light sheen of sweat on my face. I sat in one of the creaky folding chairs and rested my head against the wall with my eyes closed. Fainting spells always exhausted me.
I then heard Edward speaking softly at the counter.

“Ms. Cope?”

“Yes?” I hadn’t heard her return to her desk.

“Andie has Gym next hour, and I don’t think she feels well enough. Actually I was thinking I should take her home now. Do you think you could excuse her from class?”
His voice was like melting honey. I could imagine how much overwhelming his eyes must be.

“Do you need to be excused, too, Edward?” Ms. Cope fluttered. Why couldn’t I do that?

“No, I have Mrs. Goff, she wont mind in the slightest.”

“Okay, it’s all taken care of. You feel better Andie,” she called to me. I nodded weakly, hamming it up just a bit.

“Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you again?” With his back to the receptionist, his expression became sarcastic.

“Do I look like a baby? I can walk.” I bit back.

I stood carefully, and I was fine. He held the door for me, his smile polite, but his eyes mocking. I walked out into the cold, fine mist that had just begun to fall. It felt soothing- the first time I enjoyed the constant moisture falling out of the sky- as it washed away the perspiration on my face.

“Thanks,” I said as he followed me out. “It’s almost worth getting sick to miss Gym.”

“I thought you liked Gym?” he was staring straight forward, squinting into the rain.

“I love it, just not with Mike.” I said honestly. “So are you going? This Saturday, I mean?” I was hopping he would, though it seemed so unlikely. I couldn’t picture him loading up to carpool with the rest of the kids from school; he didn’t belong in the same world. He’s too good for that. But just hoping that he might gave me the first twinge of enthusiasm that I felt for the outing.
“Where are you all going, exactly?” he asked still looking ahead, expressionless.

“Down to La Push, to First Beach.” I studied his face trying to read it. His eyes seemed to narrow infinitesimally.

He glanced down at me from the corner of his eye, smiling wryly. “I really don’t think, Andie, I was invited.”

I sighed. “I just invited you.”

“Let’s you and I not push poor Mike any further this week. We wouldn’t want him to snap now would we?” his eyes danced; he was enjoying the idea more than he should.

“Mike-schmike.” I muttered, preoccupied by the way he said “you and I.” I liked it more than I should.

We were near the parking lot now. I veered left, towards my car. Something caught my jacket however and yanked me back, raged. He was gripping a fistful of my jacket in one hand.

I was confused. “Uh let go, I’m going home.”
“Didn’t you hear me promise to take you home safely? Do you think I’m going to let you drive in your condition?” His voice was still indignant.

“What condition, I’m walking, I feel fine. Besides what about my car?” I complained.

“I’ll have Alice drop it off after school.” he said towing me towards his car now, pulling my by the jacket. It was all I could do to keep from falling backwards. He’d probably just drag me along the way if I did.

“Dammit let go!” I insisted. He ignored me. I staggered along sideways across the wet sidewalk, my boots clicking, until we finally reached the Volvo. Then he finally freed me- I stumbled against the passenger door.

“You are so pushy!” I grumbled.

“It’s open.” was all he responded. He got in the drivers side.

“I’m perfectly capable of driving myself home!” I strode by the car, fuming. It was raining harder now, and I’d never put my hood up, so my hair was now dripping down my back, some of it clinging to my face.

He lowered the automatic window and leaned towards me across the seat. “Get in, Andrea.”
I didn’t answer. I was mentally calculating my chances of reaching my car before he could catch me. I had to admit, they weren’t good odds.

“I’ll just drag you back,” he threatened, guessing my plan.

My eyes darted from him and then I turned on heel and made a break for it. I had gotten half way across the parking lot when two arms grabbed me and picked me up and I was swept into Edward’s arms.

“Agh! Let me down!” I yelled and he just laughed as he spun around and led me back to the car. He opened the door of his car and then pushed me inside quickly shutting it and then got in the drivers seat himself.

I tried to maintain myself as well as I could. Though that failed miserably cause I looked like a half drowned cat, and there was water in my boots.

“This is completely unnecessary.” I said stiffly.

He didn’t answer. He fiddled with the controls, turning the heater up and the music down. As he pulled out of the parking lot, I was prepared to give him the silent treatment- my face in full pout, even my arms where folded across my chest- but then I recognized the music playing, and my curiosity got the best of my intentions.

“Claire de Lune?” I asked, surprised.

“You know Debussy?” He too sounded surprised.

“Not well,” I admitted. “My mother used to play it a lot. It used to be her favorite, as well as mine.”

“It’s one of my favorites too.” he stared out through the rain, lost in his thoughts.

I listened to the music, relaxing against the light gray leather seat. It was impossible not to respond to the familiar soothing melody. I felt entirely safe, and at home. The rain blurred everything outside the window into gray and green smudges. I began to realize we were driving very fast; the car moved steadily, so evenly though, I didn’t feel the speed. Only the town flashing by gave it away.

“What was your mother like?” he asked me suddenly.

I glanced over to see him studying me with curiosity.

“She was a lot like me in some aspects, prettier though,” I said. He raised his eyebrows. “To be honest I have too much of my father in me. My mom was more outgoing than I am, she’s braver. She was a tad irresponsible at times, and slightly eccentric, and she couldn’t cook worth for beans. She was- my best friend.” I swallowed hard.

“How old are you, Andie?” his voice sounded frustrated for some reason and I couldn’t imagine why. He stopped the car, and I realized we where at my house already. The rain was so heavy I could barely see my house at all. It was like the car was submerged under a river.

“I’m seventeen.,” I responded, a little confused.

“You don’t seem seventeen.”

His tone was a little reproachful; it made me laugh fully making the hurt I was just feeling kind of dissipate.

“What?” he asked, curious again.

“My mom always said I was born thirty-five years old and that I got more middle-aged every year.” I laughed more and then sighed. “I miss her.” I paused for a second. “You don’t seem much like junior in high school yourself,” I noted.

He made a face and changed the subject.

“So what were your parents names?”

I was surprised he had even remembered that I hadn’t told him that little detail. I’d mentioned them only two months ago to him. It took me a moment to answer.

“My mothers name was Isobel Thoreaux. My fathers was Marcus Johnson.” I said looking down a bit. I miss them so much.

“Why do you have two last names?” he asked.

“Does that really matter?” I countered. “It’s not uncommon.”

“Not it’s not.” he said silkily. “I’d just rather like to know.”

“Well, my mother’s side of the family is really old. Our lineage predates back to the witch hunt in France almost a few centuries ago. Thoreaux was a name she couldn’t really give up. And my father wanted nothing more than to bend to my mothers wishes...the family names where combined and I was born Andrea Saxony Thoreaux-Johnson.”

“Saxony...is your middle name?” he smiled a bit and I did too.

“Yeah unfortunately...it scares me. I don’t really know why.” I admitted.

“Just a little scary.”

“And what would your definition of scary be; multiple facial piercing and extensive tattoos?”

“That’s one definition, I suppose.”

“What’s your definition then?”

But he ignored my question and asked me another. “Do you think that I could be scary?” he raised one eyebrow, and the faint trace of a smile lightened his face.

I thought for a moment, wondering wether the truth or a lie would go over better. I decided to go with the truth.

“Hmm...I think you could be if you wanted to.”

“Are you frightened of me now?” the smile then vanished and his heavenly face was suddenly serious.

“No,” but I answered too quickly to be convincing. The smile returned. “So, now are you going to tell me about your family?” I asked to distract him. “It’s got to be a much more interesting story than mine.”

He was instantly cautious. “What do you want to know?”

“The Cullens adopted you?” I verified.

“Yes.”

I hesitated for a moment. “What happened to your parents?”

“They died many years ago.” his tone was a matter-of-fact.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled. Now I felt bad. But it was something him and I shared in common.

“I don’t really remember them that clearly. Carlisle and Esme have been my parents for a long time now.”

“And you love them.” It wasn’t a question. It was obvious by the way he spoke of them.

“Yes.” he smiled. “I couldn’t imagine two better people.”

“You’re lucky you have that.” I fiddled with the sleeve of my jacket in anxiety.

“I know I am.”

“And your brothers and sisters?”

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

“My brother and sister, and Jasper and Rosalie for that matter, are going to be quite upset if the have to stand in the rain waiting for me.”

“Oh, sorry, I guess you have to go.” I didn’t want to get out of the car now. Irony had just then bit me in the butt.

“And you probably want your car back before your brother gets home, so you don’t have to tell him about the Biology incident.” he grinned at me.

“I’m sure he’s already heard. There’s no secrets here in Forks is there?” I sighed.

He laughed, and there was an edge to his laughter.

“Have fun at the beach...good weather for sunbathing.” he glanced out at the sheeting rain.

“Won’t I see you tomorrow?”

“No. Emmet and I are starting the weekend early.”

“What are you going to do?” A friend could ask that, right? I hoped the disappointment wasn’t to exposed in my soft voice.

“We’re going hiking in the Goat Rocks Wilderness, just south of Rainier.”

I remembered Adam saying that the Cullens took camping trips every other weekend.

“Oh, well, have fun.” I tried to sound a bit enthusiastic. I don’t think I fooled him though. A smile was playing around the edge of his lips.

“Will you do, something for me this weekend?” he turned to look me straight in the face, utilizing the full power of his golden eyes.

I nodded helplessly.

“Don’t be offended, but you just seem to be one of those people who just attract accidents like a magnet. So...please…try not to fall into the ocean or get run over or anything, all right?” he smiled crookedly.

I was now glaring at him.

“I’ll see what I can do, can’t really make promises on that you know.” I snapped as I jumped out into the rain. I slammed the door behind me with excessive force, even adding a sarcastic wave.
I could tell though he was still smiling as he drove away.