chapter 2

The next day the clouds were dense and opaque, but the lack of rain barely cheered me. It felt easier to go to school knowing what to expect, at least. Makayla took a shine to me as soon as I walked into English class – talking to me incessantly, walking me to my next class, with Chess Club Erica glaring at her the entire time.

It was obvious to me that, for some reason, both Erica and Makayla had some kind of crush on me. Why, I had no idea, but it made me feel like a shiny new toy. Sometimes I saw a few guys watching me with narrowed eyes, but it could have been my imagination. Surely Makayla had other friends to talk to, right?

It was a relief that people didn't look at me quite so wide-eyed as they had yesterday. Things even went rather smoothly, at least until lunch.

When the bell for lunch rang, it knotted a large hole in my stomach. Edward would probably be in the cafeteria, and the idea of seeing that pure burn of hatred rattled me to my core. Makayla, Erica, Jeremy, and several other people whose names and faces I vaguely remembered helped me feel more safe and hidden. Just another face in the crowd.

All morning I had dreaded lunch, fearing his bizarre glares, and Edward Cullen wasn't there. A part of me wanted to confront him, and demand to know what his problem is. Lying restless in bed last night, I had thought of a thousand different things I could say as I stared up at the ceiling. Even decided that if I had to, I would write a note and pass it to him in Biology whether he wanted to read it or not.

Edward wasn't in the cafeteria, and despite barely eating and expecting him to breeze through the door, he didn't. The four siblings were sitting together at the same table though, not eating, looking out the window, or reading some kind of book, talking amongst each other. Edward didn't show, and it bothered me. Bothered me too much – half my lunch was left untouched.

Makayla had led us to her favorite table, near the one from yesterday, which hid me better from where Edward could have seen me at the old one. Jeremy seemed to glow like a star by the attention, and it was altogether too obvious that Jeremy really liked Makayla. Makayla, Jeremy, and his friends were all chatting a mile a minute, but I could barely focus on what any of them said.

Edward wasn't here, which meant he probably wasn't going to be in Biology either. I hoped that he would show up, because if he just ignored me than it meant I wasn't the reason he was so repulsed and aggravated. I thought I could feel Makayla watching me, trying to look where I was glancing toward, but I pretended not to notice.

Far too tense by the time lunch ended, Makayla walked with me to Biology like I was a tennis ball and she was a golden retriever. She tried to talk about books or movies I liked, but the subject held no interest to me. Feeling safe, that he might not be in class today, confidence and fear filled me as I stopped by the door and looked into our Biology classroom.

Edward wasn't there, and for some reason anger filled me. He had to be a coward, if he was ditching school because of me. It was harder to deny that the reason was me, and I felt my hand knot up into a ball before I walked to my seat. Staring absentmindedly at the empty chair next to me as if I expected the guy to just magically appear when I turned my head for a moment. I knew it was ridiculous, even egotistical, to think that -I- was important enough to bother someone I had never met before that badly.

When the school day was over, and the horror of accidentally bopping a Volleyball into another student's head faded the flush of embarrassment from my face, I was relieved to make it back to my truck. Relieved still further because I had successfully managed to get out of the boy's locker room before Makayla had a chance to find me and swoop me in with conversation and attention.

Digging through my backpack once I was safely in my truck, my home away from home, my hands filed through the zipper compartments to make sure I had everything I needed. To my horror, I realized that Charlie didn't cook very many things besides eggs and bacon. Or wouldn't cook anything otherwise, if he could cook anything else.

If I was going to survive Forks, I'd need to do the cooking, and be consented to my request to be put on kitchen detail. One distraction from the disappointing school day to ease my mind. Even though I wasn't someone who ate very much, cooking was soothing to me. Since I was old enough to cook without burning things, I'd done the cooking for my mom, and not having anyone to cook for made me feel anxious.

As soon as my hand found the grocery store list and some I'd folded into it nestled into a hidden pocket, relief washed over my face.

Gunning the Beast's deafening engine to life, ignoring the many heads that turned to look at my truck's roar of life, I backed as carefully as I could into the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. While I waited, trying to pretend that the ear-splitting rumbled growl was coming from someone else's car, I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their own car.

Of course it was a shiny new Volvo, the fanciest car I'd seen in the lot. Too mesmerized by their faces thus far, I realized that everything they owned or wore was expensive-looking or exceptional in some way. To be honest, with their remarkably good looks, the style to which they carried themselves, they could have worn a t-shirt made of dish rags and still pulled it off. For some reason it seemed too excessive to me for them to have looks -and- money. Resentment filled me, maybe because I knew that Edward had that life of luxury as well.

Not that it mattered, it didn't look as though their finery or good looks bought them any acceptance here. If that was even what they wanted, I couldn't see a good reason why they would not be well liked if they wanted to be. The four of them turned their head when my truck came toting by their car, and I sharply moved my eyes to not be swamped in embarrassment.

Unable to resist, I peeked, and the short-haired fairy with inky black hair was watching me.

Keeping my eyes forward then, to not meet any of their direct gazes and piss them off like I had Edward, relief flooded through me when I could finally escape the parking lot.

The 'Thriftway' grocery store was not very far from school, just a few streets south, off the freeway. It felt safe, cozy, to be inside a supermarket again; it felt so blissfully normal. Since I did all the shopping back at home, it was easy to fall into the same pattern of completing familiar tasks. The store was large enough inside that I couldn't hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me I was still in Forks.

Sometimes I felt like someone was watching me, though, and while that was disconcerting I never actually saw anyone doing it to have a reason to be concerned.

When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries. Stuffing items wherever I could find an open space, with slightly more organization than the mess my father had left it. When most of the groceries were put away, I washed my hands and wrapped potatoes in tin foil, sticking the into the oven to bake. Covering a steak in marinade, I balanced that on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge to soak for a while.

Only when that relaxing project was finished did I take my book-bag upstairs. There was homework I had to focus on; but, first I needed to write an email to my mom. The whole situation yesterday had made me forget to do it, and I knew she'd probably have sent a bunch of emails from worry at my lack of quick responses.

after shaving the stubble on my face I went in my room to my computer, I clicked open my email to find three messages.

"Beau," my mom wrote…

Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you already. I'm almost finished packing for Florida; but, I can't find my pink blouse. Do you know where I put it? Phil says hi. - Mom'.

The next email was sent eight hours after the first one. I sighed, they were all named 'Beau' as a subject and I knew she was overreacting before I even opened the other messages.

"Beau," she wrote…

If I haven't heard back from you by 5:30 I'm calling Charlie."

Glancing at the clock, I knew I still had an hour; but, my mom was known for jumping the gun, so I clicked on 'reply' and started typing back to her.

"Mom," I began to write.

Calm down, I just got home from school. Don't do anything silly. - Beau."

Clicking 'Send', I typed 'reply' a second time to give a reply to all the details she had asked for in her first email.

"Mom,

Everything is going great. When -isnt- it raining? I was waiting to reply til I had something to talk about. School isn't bad, just repetitive. They're a year behind me in Biology so I'm pretending to learn. I met some nice kids who sit by me at lunch. Your blouse is at the dry cleaners – you were supposed to pick it up last Friday.

Charlie bought me a truck, can you believe that? I actually love it, though it's super old and loud and all the kids stare at me. Study and safe though, so don't worry about me. I miss you, too. I'll write you again soon, but don't expect me to check my email every five minutes either. Relax. Breathe. I love you."

Changing into loose pants and a more comfortable t-shirt, Wuthering Heights – a required reading book from my English Class – was tugged out of my book bag. Honestly, it wasn't the first time I had read it. I'd read it before for sheer enjoyment, so it was nice to have a reason to read it over a second time.

Which was what I was doing when Charlie came home. I'd lost track of time, and based on the smell filtering upstairs, I almost burned the potatoes…

"Beau?" My father called out when he heard me thump downstairs.

"Hey, Dad," my reply was short, I barely saw him hang up his gun belt and step out of his boots as I bustled into the kitchen. When I came here to visit as a child, he would always remove the bullets from his gun as soon as he walked in the door, and I imagined he would do so now.

Moving the steak into the broiler and taking the potatoes out before they were charred beyond repair. The smell was worse than it was, and the potatoes seemed to be okay once I used silverware to unwrap them from foil.

"What's for dinner?" he asked warily, and it made me feel a bit self-conscious to be put on the spot with burnt smell in the air.

"Steak and potatoes," my reply seemed to set him at ease, and I couldn't help but wonder if he had been worried my taste in food took after mom. She was always trying to cook exotic dishes creatively fashioned, that looked far better than they tasted. Sometimes we made even made orange curry together; but, these were things my dad didn't like. Which, if I was honest with myself, was one of the perks of being here.

"Do you need any help?" He asked tentatively, looking a bit awkward just standing there doing nothing.

"Uh, sure, Dad. Can you warm some butter from the fridge?"

He moved on autopilot to open the fridge door and blink at how full the fridge was. Not knowing where the butter was anymore, he glanced around for almost three minutes. Comical as it might be, mercy demanded I scoot past him to open the little butter drawer in the door and point at the box of butter sticks.

He took one of the sticks out of the box and went to find a plate, and I took that time to grab the bag of pre-made, pre-washed, salad and toss it into two soup-bowls.

Dad moved behind me in the kitchen, the microwave closed, and buttons were pressed. After that, I think Charlie realized there was nothing for him to do, and he sauntered off to the living room to go watch TV while I finished up.

The silence was relaxing, it never felt awkward when we both had things to do, only when the pressure of talking lingered in the room.

When dinner was ready, Charlie turned off the television and walked back into the kitchen.

"Smells good, Beau."

With an awkward smile, I went to sit and we ate in silence for a few minutes. Neither of us were bothered by the quiet, and I guess in some ways we were well suited for living together.

What I didn't expect was for Charlie to talk, so when he did, my mouth curled into a grimace.

"So, how do you like the high school? Have you made any friends?"

"Everybody seems pretty nice," I replied, but as he kept looking at me I fished for more details. "I have a few classes with a boy named Jeremy, um...there's this girl named Makayla who'se super friendly."

"Ah, that sounds like Makayla Newton?" I nodded, and he continued. "Her dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. They make good money living off of all the backpackers who come through here."

When I didn't say anything, just kept eating, he continued on. "She's a nice girl – nice family," he paused, and I could feel him watching me. "Do you 'like' Makayla Newton?"

My appetite died, was he really asking me about girls? "She's nice, been a good friend to me."

I could tell Charlie wanted to ask more; but, he didn't know how to formulate the words...so I spoke before he did, and tried to change the subject quickly.

"Um, do you know the Cullens? The Cullen family?" My voice rang out so hesitantly I felt like I floated above my body.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure, I know them," he said between bites of potatoes. "Why do you ask?"

"I...noticed the Cullens are a little...different. They don't seem to fit in very well."

My father surprised me, his face was reddened, and he sliced his slate with more gusto than it needed.

"It's a bit strange for a couple to adopt older teens, much less five of them, but they're all very mature and polite. I admit, I had my doubts when their family moved in, but they've never caused any trouble. Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon, who could probably make ten times the salary he gets here. We're lucky his wife wanted to live in a small town, they're an asset to the community. It's perfectly fine to be a...little peculiar," Charlie paused, to take another bite of potatoes.

I fumbled my fork through what was left of my food, surprised by the long speech my father had made. It was probably even the longest speech he'd ever made about something that I could remember hearing, and that in itself unsettled me. Clearly he felt strongly about the Cullens, and clearly he must be used to people saying negative things about them.

"I just noticed they tend to keep to themselves at school...and they're all very attractive."

Charlie laughed, heartily. "You should see their parents. It's a good thing they're happily married. I hear a lot of the nurses have trouble concentrating on their work when Dr. Cullen is on duty."

Whatever I had planned on asking about escaped me, so I just smiled as the small-talk faded back into silence. After we both did the dishes, by hand as we didn't have a dishwasher, I went upstairs to work on my math homework.

I could feel a tradition in the making, and it felt nice to have some semblance of normalcy back.

With no rain that night, I fell asleep almost instantly once I hit the bed.

The rest of the week helped me settle into the routine of my classes, and by Friday I was able to recognize – if not by name – almost all the students at school. In Gym, the kids on my team learned not to pass me the ball, and to step in front of me if the other team tried to take advantage of my lack of hand-eye coordination. Rather than make me feel unwanted, it relieved me.

Every day, I anxiously watched until the rest of the Cullens entered the cafeteria, and every day – Edward wasn't there.

Where did he go? Did he transfer to being home schooled? Was I really such a big problem for him? These questions haunted me, even after I ate. Maybe it was for the best he wasn't here, and I should really just stop wondering about him.

So by Friday, I was perfectly comfortable entering Biology class, no longer worried that Edward would be there. He wasn't, and it was nice having the two-person lab desk to myself. But I couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that he would be here if I wasn't...so repulsive to him.

My days were blending together, and here I was – still worrying about Edward Cullen.

My first weekend in Forks passed by without any incidents. Charlie wasn't used to spending time in an empty house, so he worked on the weekends. With the house to myself, I got ahead on my homework, wrote ridiculously cheerful emails to my mom, and even felt like doing some cleaning around the place. I did drive to the local library on Saturday; but, it was so poorly stocked that I left with an empty bag. Maybe Olympia or Seattle would have a good bookstore, I mused, but then I thought of how much gas The Beast would need to drive that sort of distance, and I cringed to myself.

Best of all, the rain stayed soft over the weekend. A quiet hum that soothed me to sleep, and I felt like I was finally able to sleep well here.

People greeted me in the parking lot when I arrived on Monday morning. I didn't know all their names; but, I waved back and smiled at everyone. It was colder than usual this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Makayla took her accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights that was very straightforward to me. Easy. Makayla may or may not have had some help from looking at my notes.

All in all, I was feeling more comfortable than I thought I would feel after a week in Forks. More cozy than I had ever expected to feel here.

Walking out of English, I froze. The air was swirling with bits of white, and I could hear other students shouting excitedly to each other.

"Wow," Makayla said. "It's snowing early this year."

The wind bit at my cheeks; my nose, and I held my bag close as I shivered against it. The snow looked like little balls of cotton fluffs that were steadily building along the sidewalk and swirling erratically past my face. White fluffy dust that bit.

Grimacing, as each snowflake melted against my face with tingling stings, the word came out of me before I put any thought into it. "Ugh."

Makayla looked at me with surprise. "You don't like snow?"

Blinking at her, as if it was a silly question, I just sighed and shook my head. "No."

Makayla tilted her head like a dog, walking faster to catch up with me, trying to out-walk the snow. "Why not?"

She was too curious for her own good. "Snow is just a colder, wetter, version of rain. Rain soaks you through enough, and snow just bunches on you, then melts and you're even more frozen," once the tyraidstarted, I couldn't stop myself. "Besides – I thought snow was supposed to come down in pretty flakes, you know? Each one unique and all that, and these just look like the ends of Q-tips."

"Haven't you ever seen snow fall before?" Makayla asked incredulously.

"Yeah, sure I have..." I paused. "On TV."

The snort that came out of Makayla's nose had a sweet charm to it, and I might have forgiven her love of this stupid white stuff – if not for a big squishy ball of fresh snow smacking into the back of her head!

Turning to see who threw the ball of white at Makayla, Erica was walking away with her back toward us – in the wrong direction for her next class. I'd had my suspicions that Erica and Makayla were competing for my attention, but whether that was true or not, they weren't getting along very well and it was obvious she was the one who threw the snowball.

"Oh, you're getting it nerd," Makayla said as she bent down to scoop up the white mush into a ball, and I knew that was my time to flee.

"Um, I'll see you at lunch, okay?" I said, already walking away from the snow battle.

Makayla nodded, her eyes on Erica's retreating figure. Watching Makayla walk fast after her, I walked almost the same rushed pace to get away from the snow before someone else had any fun ideas.

All morning – everyone chattered excitedly about the snow. The first snowfall of the new year was clearly a big deal in these parts. Not wanting to bring down the mood, I said nothing. Sure, snow was 'dryer' until it melted into your socks.

Walking behind Jeremy to the cafeteria after Spanish class, my eyes were as alert as an owl. Mush balls were flying everywhere – and I had no skill or talent to stop them if someone decided to throw one at me. Jeremy didn't seem to realize I was using him as a human shield until we were half-way to the cafeteria, and when he did he giggled.

"You know snow isn't toxic, right?" He teased, and I was just grateful he didn't torture me with picking up a snowball and throwing it at me himself.

Pursing my mouth into a grimace, we walked into the cafeteria – the safe zone – and I relaxed. Makayla immediately caught up to us as we walked in, laughing with ice melting in her blond hair.

While she and Jeremy were talking animatedly about the snow fights, I slipped ahead of them in the lunch line to buy food. Out of sheer habit, my eyes darted to the Cullen table, and I froze where I stood.

There were five people at the table.

Jeremy and Makayla bumped right into me, and he pulled on my arm.

"Ah! Don't stop!" Jeremy said with a laugh. "Silly goose!"

Makayla tried to look at what had stopped me, and whether she realized I was watching the Cullen table or not, I hastily looked away before she could comment on it.

"Sorry – I thought I saw a snowball..." Humor wasn't my best feature, but that didnt' stop Jeremy and Makayla from giggling.

Moving to let Jeremy and Makayla order food first, my eyes were on the floor. My ears were so hot I could feel my face burning down to my toes. What reason did I have to feel so self-conscious anyway! So what if Edward was here! I hadn't done a thing wrong!

"Um, Beau, what do you want?" Jeremy asked, and I could only presume I'd been spaced out long enough for people in line to get antsy and glare at me.

"Oh, um, I'm actually not hungry," I said as I started to ease out of the line. My stomach churned, and Makayla called out to me as I walked away.

"Hey – are you okay?"

Oh please don't bring extra attention to me…

"I just feel a little sick, I'll get a soda or something," I tried to reassure Makayla, and I could tell I hadn't convinced her not to worry as she turned back to the server in the cafeteria.

Rushing away from the line, the last thing I heard was Makayla talking to Jeremy. "What's with Beau?"

Rushing to the Vending machine, which charged a lot more than a soda was worth, I dug out a few bills from my pocket and shoved them into the machine. Which didn't take my money, they had been too bruised from an accidental trip through the wash.

My stomach truly felt unsettled, and a part of me wondered if it was a good idea to play it up and go to the nurses office for the next hour. Which was ridiculous! Why did -I- have to cower away like a mouse? I shouldn't have to, I didn't do anything wrong!

Poking my nose around the corner, I decided to permit myself just one glance at the Cullen's family table. If Edward was glaring at me, I would skip Biology – like the coward I was. Peering at them behind my lashes, one of them was missing. But only the guy with blond hair – Jasper – was looking in my direction. Not at – me – but something nearby.

Rosalie, Edward, and Emmett were smiling at each other, Rosalie leaning away toward her brother Jasper as Emmett shook his head like a dog to get snow all over her. They seemed to be enjoying the snowy day, like everyone else – though more like a scene from a hallmark movie than like the rest of the kids here. Edward looked happy, he could care less about me.

Jasper squinted away from getting snow on him and held up his hands like a shield; but, his eyes were still looking my way.

Before I could formulate why, the answer tapped my shoulder.

"Hello," the voice sounded like tiny bells, and I turned around to see the black-haired pixie Cullen looking at me.

Words escaped me, and if it were possible I'd have been paler than she was from shock. Why was she talking to me?

"Uh, hi," I finally spit out, because she just kept smiling at me and dancing on the balls of her feet like she was waiting for me to say something back.

"I'm Alice," she said warmly, too warmly.

I cleared my throat. "H-hey Alice," I said, pretending I didn't already know her name by heart now.

She just giggled, a sound like fairy dust escaping her lips as she reached into her ridiculously fancy-looking purse and took out a five dollar bill. One that looked like it has never seen the light of day before, from how smooth and crisp the paper was.

"Here, these machines can be so picky," Alice said, and I cautiously reached to take her crisp bill and hand her my ratty excuse for a bill back.

"Oh, thanks," I mumbled, feeling more eyes on me, and in fear I couldn't bear to turn around to see if Alice's siblings were looking at me. Why was she being so nice to me?

Alice waved away the money, either from wanting to do a nice thing, or not wanting to touch battered ugly bills, I couldn't tell. "Pfft, don't worry about it, welcome to Forks."

"Thank you..." I squeaked.

Alice seemed to glow as though she thought I was a cute beanie baby she wanted to scoop up at the toy store. Her grin was electric, and I found myself really enjoying her company.

"My Dad won't stop talking about how happy Chief Swan is since you came here," Alice said, and it caught me off guard to think of my dad being that happy. Did he really talk about me to people? It cheered me, and I almost forgot about my nausea.

"Oh?" I muttered, like a doofus.

Alice giggled like soft bells again. "Have a good day, Beau."

Just like that, the dancing fairy princess with short black hair was gone, hopping over to the Cullen table again with some kind of can in her hand. Was Edward watching me, now? My eyes turned to peek over my shoulder, and to my relief Edward was playfully batting his bulky weight-lifting brother for trying to shake more snow on him.

Jasper was watching Alice, and his eyes seemed to only see her as she swam through the room to sit next to him. When Alice saw me looking at them, she waved, and then all the Cullens looked my way!

Darting behind the wall, hiding behind the vending machine, I couldn't bring myself to use the pristine five dollar bill on a soda. It was weird, like the bill was some kind of souvenir. Sliding it into my pocket, like I'd been given something precious from a celebrity, when I was sure that the Cullens weren't watching me anymore, I whisked myself to the lunch table where Makayla and Jeremy were watching me with wide eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jeremy asked me, and I looked at the Cullen table as I sat down. Edward was gone, and for some reason that filled me with panic until I saw him outside, walking away from the cafeteria through the snow. Was he upset? Was he mad Alice had talked to me?

"Beau?" Makayla added, when I didn't say anything for a long moment.

"Oh, yeah, sorry – I just needed a few minutes."

Jeremy relaxed, but his face was more suspicious than Makayla's trusting smile. Makayla slid a tray in front of me, a full tray of chicken nuggets and broccoli. "You should eat something."

Staring down at the food, I looked up at Makayla nervously, because I thought Jeremy looked...jealous. "Oh, thanks, you didn't have to..."

My eyes slipped away from Jeremy and Makayla to look at the Cullen's table; but, they were all filtering out into the snow with smiles on their faces. Except for Jasper, who looked like he was in pain.

"Beau, what are you staring at?" Jeremy asked, and I realized he was trying to follow what I was looking at. Should I tell him about the Edward thing? I didn't think he would understand, and the last thing I wanted was more gossip about me to make people stare at me more.

"The snow," I lied, and Jeremy just started laughing. Losing all interest in his food as he playfully slapped Makayla's shoulder.

"See, I told you!" Jeremy said animatedly, and I laughed weakly.

Makayla snorted and cracked her fingers. "Well, don't you boys worry about the snow, I'll protect you."

Jeremy and Allen seemed to think that was even more hilarious, and they laughed heartily while I ate a chicken nugget or two to show I was grateful. Makayla might really like me, or she might just be a really kind girl, it was hard to tell – even if my gut seemed to know which one was the case. Not eating the chicken nuggets after she bought it for me would be rude, so I tried not to think about Alice's unexpected friendliness as I ate.

They spoke for a while of the Snow, and that maybe they should post-pone their trip to La Push Ocean Park, but I wasn't really listening. Edward had looked happy with his family. The dark bruise-like circles under his eyes had been less prominent, and his pale skin seemed to be flushed – from a snow fight maybe. There was something else that seemed different; but, I couldn't place what it was.

"Psst, Beau," Allen finally interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up from mostly eaten food to look at him. Allen adjusted his glasses as he leaned in closer to whisper to me. He wasn't watching me, he was watching something in the distance. "I think Edward Cullen is staring at you."

Eyes widening in panic, I looked where Allen was pointing, and sure enough Edward was standing on the outside of the window next to Alice. When our eyes met, he seemed to bristle with concern, and Alice pinched his arm with what looked like a bubbling laugh at her brother's expense.

Jeremy, hearing Allen, looked at the window too. Which meant Makayla and the whole table looked at the window, and I sank down in humiliation and covered my face with my hands. God, now Edward knew I was looking at him.

When the other kids didn't stop looking at Edward and Alice, I tried to lightly shake Allen's arm. "Guys, can you please stop looking at him."

Jeremy chuckled first. "Why? He's not looking at us anymore."

Too afraid to look up, fearing that meant he was just looking at me, I muttered with all the bravery of a field mouse. "Does he look mad?"

Allen furrowed his brow. "Should he be?"

All eyes were on me now, and I hated it. All appetite I had gained vanished and I gently pushed away my tray. "I just, don't think he likes me."

Sinking down to put my head on my arm, the queasiness was back and Jeremy shrugged. "I don't think the Cullens like anybody."

Peeking through my hand at the window, Alice and Edward were away from the window, like Alice was teasing her brother. She kept trying to pinch Edward and nod her head toward the Cafeteria. Was she trying to get Edward to talk to me? Edward's back was to me, so I didn't see what he looked like, but his shoulders seemed kind of tense.

Not wanting to be staring if Edward looked back around, I hastily looked back at Makayla when she started to change the subject. "It's their loss, cause we're awesome."

Jeremy and Allen seemed to snort at the same time, but that didn't deter Makayla. "Which reminds me – after school we're having an epic battle of the blizzard! Who'se in? I have a few more snowballs for the nerds, at least."

Allen rolled his eyes. "I resent that, Makayla," he said as he adjusted his reading glasses.

Jeremy looked at Makayla with such eagerness and glee that I felt like he'd be up for anything Makayla suggested. Staying silent, as I really didn't want to be anywhere near snowballs, I vowed to hide in the gym until the parking lot was cleared of snowy warfare.

For the rest of the lunch hour, I carefully kept my eyes on my own table. Deciding to honor the bargain I'd made with myself – even if the idea made me queasy. Edward didn't look angry, so I would go ahead to Biology as planned. My stomach did little frightened flips at the thought of sitting next to him again; but, I was not going to be a coward if there wasn't a good reason to be.

Makayla tried to segway me into the conversation several times, but I kept dodging any opinion on snow and snow fights. Not really talkative, when the bell rang I walked with Makayla in silence, and she playfully tried to poke my shoulder because of how anti-social I was. But, we didn't have much of a chance to talk anyway – as she seemed to be the most popular target of snowballs. She was constantly dodging and throwing snowballs at other students, and I found myself walking further and further away from her to avoid snowballs.

We were almost at the door for Biology when I realized it had begun to rain. The rain beginning to wash away the traces of snow on the ground – with relief, as now I didn't have to hide in the gym and could drive straight home after school.

Everyone else groaned, but I felt myself smile at the loss of snow. Rain was better than snow, even if it was by a tiny margin. Ignoring Makayla's string of complaints as we entered the class, to my relief my table was empty.

Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class wouldn't start for a few minutes; but, the room was abuzz with conversation. Keeping my eyes away from the door, to not be caught waiting for Edward to come in by the man himself, I feigned interest in doodling on a blank page in my notebook.

My entire body seemed to freeze when I heard the chair next to me move, but I struggled to pretend to re-shade a flower petal instead of turn my head to look at Edward. In fear that he would be glaring at me.

"Hello," said a quiet, musical, voice beside me. Was Edward talking to me? My chest felt suddenly out of breath.

He spoke again when I didn't answer him. "What are you drawing?"

Raising my eyes cautiously from my notebook, Edward's eyes were taking me in with a cautious curiosity. His chair was as far away from mine as it could possibly be; but, angled toward me as if to give me his full attention. His bronze-blond hair looked to be dripping wet, disheveled – and even so, it looked like he just finished shooting a commercial for shampoo. His dazzling face was friendly, open, with a slight smile on his flawless mouth. However, his eyes were concerned.

My mouth didn't move, I was too stunned that Edward wanted to talk to me, that I didn't know what to say until my brain could process that he -did- in fact -want- to talk to me. Not hiss at me.

Edward seemed to realize how stunned I was, so he kept talking softly to me. "My name is Edward Cullen," he continued in his velvet voice. "I...didn't have the chance to introduce myself last week. I have heard you prefer to be called, Beau?"

My mind was spinning with confusion – had I made up the whole hissing fit last week? He was so perfectly polite right now. I had to speak; he was waiting – but I couldn't think of something to say for the life of me.

"H-How did you know that?" I stammered.

He laughed, a soft enchanting laugh that made my feet feel weak and strange.

"At this point, I think the whole town knows you prefer to be called Beau."

My mouth curled into a wary grimace, of course I was the center of gossip in this small town, what a stupid question!

Unable to fathom anything to recover myself from how much of a dork I had become, Mr. Banner saved me by starting the class. Trying desperately to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today, I scooted into the desk and turned my notebook to an empty page to sprawl out notes. Working as lab partners, we would have 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, and in twenty minutes he would be coming around to see who had it right.

"The winning team of this assignment," Mr. Banner held up something that looked like a weird trophy. "Gets this year's Golden Onion."

My face sank – because Mr. Banner looked so happy and excited about his brilliance in trophy choices. Why would he think a bunch of kids would want a golden onion anyway? Who wanted to explain that trophy to people? The other students seemed excited about it, which made me wonder if Edward was excited about it; but, he didn't look any different.

He was still staring at me, chair angled my direction. My stomach lurched and I hastily looked away.

"Get started," Mr. Banner commanded.

"Would you care to go first?" Edward asked, and I peeked at him to see a strangely unnerving crooked smile on his face. It was so beautiful that I could only stare at him like an idiot. "Or I could start? If you wish?"

Edward's smile faded, as though he was wondering if I was mentally challenged.

"N-No," I began; feeling everywhere inside me flushing or boiling. "I'll go ahead." Maybe I was desperate to prove to Edward that I wasn't stupid, and as I had done this class before, this was a way I could show off just a little bit. It should be easy! I'd done this before. Snapping the first slide into place under the microscope, I adjusted it quickly to the 40x objective zoom and peeked through the microscope to study the sample.

My assessment was confident. "Prophase."

"Do you mind if I review your findings, scientist?" Edward teased, and I felt my stomach lurch again as he reached over toward me to turn the microscope his way. He had to lean forward to look through the microscope, and his wet bangs fell down in a waterfall of bronze hair cascading over his forehead.

Unfortunately, we had both been reaching for the microscope, as I had wanted to turn it for him to not be rude. So my hand touched his perfect fingers. His hand was ice cold, like he'd been holding onto a dry ice-cube before class started. But that wasn't why I jerked my hand away from his so quickly.

When I touched his hand, it stung, as if electric current had passed between us and shocked me.

"Forgive me," Edward muttered, pulling his hand behind his back immediately. However, he turned to keep looking through the microscope, and after a short moment he pulled back.

"Prophase," he agreed with another of those crooked smiles at me. He wrote with such perfect penmanship on our worksheet that I felt the desire to never write again so I could keep seeing his beautiful script. Saying nothing, like an idiot, Edward swapped the first slide for the second one and gazed at it curiously.

"Anaphase," he murmured softly, writing it down as he spoke, and I found myself needing to impress him and win this competition.

"May I double check?"

Edward smirked at me, and when I didn't reach forward to turn the microscope, he gently turned it for me and moved his hands away from it entirely. It seemed we were both being extra careful not to touch again.

"Of course," he hummed, and I leaned forward cautiously to peruse the slide with the most fleeting look I could manage before I leaned back again.

Disappointment filled me, he was right. "Anaphase."

"Like I said," he teased, and I both couldn't look at him in the eye, and couldn't look away.

"Slide three?" The words fell from me with slightly more ease than before; but, it was still very hard to speak around this man who was so much more handsome than myself. Edward slid the third slide to me, and I hastily slipped it into the microscope.

Why did I want to touch his hand again? I knew it might shock again, but that wasn't the reason I carefully avoided touching his fingers as we peeked at the slides back and forth.

"Interphase," he muttered the last slide, and at this point I just wrote down whatever he said, and he wrote down whatever I said.

The sheet looked so sad, to me. My writing resembled chicken scratch in comparison to how gorgeous his writing was, and it haunted me how badly I wanted to hide my flaws from Edward. Writing hadn't been a flaw for me before, but everything I could do seemed obsolete in comparison to Edward.

We were finished long before anyone else was close. I could see Makayla and her partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open underneath the table.

Which left me with no distractions, nothing to keep me from...staring at Edward.

Unable to resist, my eyes rose to watch his face, and I found him staring back at me with avid curiosity. He had the same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes, and all of a sudden I realized what was different about his face.

"Did you get contacts?" I blurted out unthinkingly, and he seemed puzzled at my unexpected question.

"No, why do you ask?"

My stomach did a flip flop as I tried to think of what to say that wasn't stupid. "Oh, I just...thought you had darker eyes..."

Edward seemed annoyed, as he shrugged and looked away from me.

But the more I thought about it, the more I was sure that his eyes truly were different. I vividly remembered the black color of his eyes when he had glared at me last week. The color was so striking against the background of his pale skin and bronze hair. Today, his eyes were a completely different color – a strange ocher, darker than butterscotch; but, with the same golden tone. I didn't understand how one could even have gold eyes, unless he was lying for some reason about the contacts. Maybe Forks was making me crazy, but his eyes weren't black and I couldn't ignore it.

Glancing down, Edward's hands were clenched into fists again, and worry filled me. Why had my question irritated him? Couldn't he just say he wore contacts? Was he afraid of not being seen as perfect, or something? Was I imagining things?

Mr. Banner came to our table, then, to see why we weren't working like the rest of the class. He glanced over our shoulders to peruse our completed lab, and then stared more intently to check our answers.

He gazed to Edward with a shrewd sort of look. "Now, Edward, don't you think that Beaufort should have been given a chance to look through the microscope?"

"Beau," Edward corrected on autopilot, and I felt a weird sort of gratitude for him as he looked back at me with soft eyes, then looked up at the teacher. "And, Beau identified three of the five slides, Mr. Banner."

As soft as his eyes were, Edward's hands were still fists under the table, and I couldn't understand why. Mr. Banner was looking at me now, though, so I turned my face to look up at him.

His expression was skeptical. "Have you done this lab before?"

A sheepish smile flushed my face. "Not with onion root."

He raised an eyebrow. "Whitefish blastula?"

I nodded at him. "Yeah."

Mr. Banner nodded, and then chuckled quietly to himself. "I take it you were in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?"

Biting down on my lip, worried of being 'too smart' to Edward, I avoided answering a moment. "Yeah."

"Well," Mr. Banner said after a pause. "I suppose it's good you two are lab partners, then." He murmured, mumbling something else as he walked away.

After he was gone, with no other distraction I could think of to keep from staring at Edward's too perfect face, I opened my notebook to doodle again.

"It's too bad about the snow melting, isn't it?" Edward asked, and I had a feeling he was trying to force himself to make small talk with me.

"Not really," I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else. It was hard to concentrate on any kind of doodle with his eyes on me, so I stopped looking at the paper and set my pencil down.

"So, you don't like snow," he commented, a fact more-so than a question.

"I don't like...cold, wet, things."

Edward laughed, too hard, and everyone stared when they heard his ethereal laugh. He stopped after a few seconds, but it looked like he was struggling not to get hooked with a case of the giggles. "Forks must be a difficult place for you to live in," he teased.

"You have no idea," I tried to mutter darkly; but, it was hard to be gloomy when Edward was so charmingly amused.

He looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn't grasp. His face had such a magnetism that I tried desperately not to stare too much at his eyes more than courtesy demanded. The window, with rain, was not in any way distracting but it was all I had to look at that.

"Why did you move here, then?"

No one had bothered to ask me that, before – not so straight-forward and precise. He caught me off guard, and I awkwardly tugged on my fingers in a fidget over my notebook.

"It's...complicated."

"Try me," Edward insisted, his voice so eager to know.

I paused for a long moment, and then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His dark gold eyes subdued me, and I found myself answering even though I didn't usually share intimate details about myself.

"My mother got remarried."

His face lit up with perplexity. "That doesn't sound so complex, to me," he disagreed; but, his tones were so kind and sympathetic. "Were they recently married?"

"Last September..." the words fell from my lips like raindrops; sad and wet.

"Do you not like your step-father?" He inquired, his voice still soft.

"No – Phil's great. Too young for my mom, maybe, but he's a nice guy."

Edward tapped his fingers gently against the table in thought, as though he was playing some imaginary tune to better concentrate on his thoughts. "Why couldn't you stay with them, then?"

Why was he so interested in me? I couldn't fathom his interest; and yet, he continued to stare at me with his gorgeous penetrating eyes. As if my dull life story was somehow vitally important to him.

"Phil travels a lot, he plays baseball for a living," I half smiled, half cringed, at the recollection. "Mom would stay home with me while he's gone, and I know it made her unhappy, so I thought I'd spend some time with my dad for a while."

He pursed his lips in thought. "Is Phil a famous baseball player?"

I shook my head. "No, he doesn't play -that- well, he's minor league."

He pursed his lips, and I found myself watching the way he thoughtfully touched his chin with his other hand. His fingernails were so clean and perfect but they looked like they had been painted on his hand from how beautiful they were to me.

"I don't understand," he finally whispered, smirking his crooked smile at me, making my knees melt and my heart-rate quicken unbeknownst to me. "You came here to make your mom happy? And now you're unhappy?"

His question struck me, and I bit down on my lip nervously. Sighing even, as I didn't know why I was so strangely open with him. His open, obvious, curiosity was like a drug to me. "Forks isn't all bad..."

He didn't believe me, probably because there was some truth or grimace on my face he could read with his dark gold irises. "Even so, you seem so morose. Tis hardly fair for you to be unhappy when she is happy."

Something of a weak laugh escaped me, genuine as it was. "Well, life is hardly fair. I know if our situation was reversed, she'd do it for me."

"And yet, I would be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

A grimace took over my mouth; why did he care? Why was he pointing this out? I didn't want anyone to know I was unhappy, then people would feel sorry for me – and the idea of Edward feeling sorry for me was a blow to me.

Glancing away in haste, to resist acting out like an angry five year old at him being so 'on the nose', I'd hoped the conversation was over. It wasn't.

"Am I wrong?" He asked, so serenely, with such sympathy and yearning, that I didn't know how to react.

When I didn't speak, and pretended to ignore him, he had his answer. When I peeked at him, he was smiling smugly at me.

"Why does it matter to you, if I'm unhappy here?" I asked, mild irritation sticking to my words like the snow of earlier today. Keeping my eyes away, I watched Mr. Banner making his rounds to the other tables.

Edward didn't answer me, he turned his head away and whispered something quietly under his breath. It sounded like he said 'that's a very good question', but to himself more than making a reply to me.

We both sat in mutual silence for the longest thirty seconds of my life up til that point. When I peeked to look at his hands, see if they were clenched into fists under the desk again, his hands were resting weakly on his thighs. Palms sitting over his pale skinny jeans non-threateningly, and perhaps he saw this as a moment to speak again.

"Am I annoying you, with my questions?" He asked, as though amused at the idea that he could bother me so strongly.

Glancing at his face without thinking, the truth fell out of me again. "Not exactly, I'm more annoyed with myself. I have a really easy to read face, I guess, my mom always says so."

"On the contrary" – Edward mentioned, pausing and tilting his head to gently scrutinize my expression – "I find you rather difficult to read."

Even though he had pinpointed everything about me so far, it really sounded like he meant what he said, and it surprised me.

"You must be a really good reader, then," I replied, more cheerfully than I felt.

"Usually," he beamed to me, flashing a set of perfect – ultra-white – teeth.

Before I could answer, Mr. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned to listen to him. Still in shock and disbelief that I had so easily shared my dreary life story to someone in the scope of five minutes. To a bizarre, handsome, boy who may or may not despise me. He'd seemed to engrossed in our conversation; but, from the corner of my eye I saw that he was leaning away from me again. His hands gripping the edge of the table with an unmistakable tension. Why be nice to me if he didn't like being around me? I couldn't honestly tell, if he liked me more or less.

Attempting to at least appear attentive as Mr. Banner illustrated on the board, I kept my eyes on the overhead projector. My thoughts, however, were unmanageable and nothing of science held any substance in my head.

When the bell finally rang, Edward rushed as swift-fully and as gracefully from the room as he had last Monday...and like last Monday, I gazed after his vanishing form in amazement.

Makayla skipped quickly to my side and picked up my books for me before I could stop her. If it was possible, I imagined her with a wagging tail, she was so happy as she watched me.

"Congrats for winning!" She said, and I totally spaced that Edward and I had won the stupid Golden Onion trophy. Looking at where it was on the lab desk, I took it in my hand; thinking about how Edward had carefully spun it in his fingers during Mr. Banner's lesson. He had touched it, I held it now, and some small sliver of electricity pooled into my palms from the shared touch of the stupid shiny onion.

"Oh, yeah, thanks," I replied, and she beamed as she tried to hold her hand out for me to take it.

Clearly Makayla was expectant, hoping I would take her hand, but that would look to others like we were dating – and discomfort filled me. I, as much as I liked Makayla, didn't feel for her that way. Guilt filled me as I stood without grabbing her hand and pushed the chair in with my foot.

"You're lucky you had Edward on your team, I hear he's real smart," she said, and I felt myself cringe. Of course he was. "That was awful, though, all the slides looked the same.."

"Well, I didn't have any trouble with it," I replied indignantly, not liking the idea that Makayla thought I only won because Edward was on my team. Regret filled me for the snub I made, unconsciously. "I mean, I've done this lab before, in Phoenix."

She seemed to not realize I had snubbed her, or she forgave it already. "Edward seemed friendly enough today..." she hinted at me as we shrugged into our raincoats. Her voice was warm and encouraging, like she was trying to reassure me that no one couldn't like me here.

"Yeah, he was. I wonder what was with him last Monday," I said, in as indifferent a voice as I could muster, and we continued on to Gym.

Makayla sure chattered a lot, especially on the trip to La Push, which she brought up again and looked at me expectantly. Feeling like she was just going to keep asking, I bit down on my lip and finally gave her an answer. "Well, since everyone else is going, I guess I'll go, too."

Makayla looked like she was going to snoopy dance out of her skin with the grin on her face. "Cool, we can plan more on it later."

Makayla was on my team today, and she chivalrously covered my position on the Volleyball team as well as her own, so my wool gathering was only interrupted when it was my turn to serve.

My team ducked warily out of the way every time I was up to serve; but, they did their best to not make me feel embarrassed about it. Makayla seemed to be going out of her way to protect me, which made Jeremy look at her with pain on his face, and I inwardly groaned.

Sooner or later, I had to nip this in the bud, I just didn't like Makayla, kind and sweet as she was.

The rain was settling into a mist as I walked out into the parking lot after Gym ended, but I was happier once I was in the dry cab of The Beast. Turning the ignition to run the heater, for once not caring of how loud the mind-numbing roar of his engine was, my brain was far from Makayla or the rain. I unzipped my jacket, put the hood down, and fluffed my damp hair so that the heater could dry it on the way home.

Glancing around to make sure the coast was clear, that's when I noticed the still, white, figure. Edward Cullen was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me, and staring intently in my direction.

We stared at each other until Alice joined him and gently touched Edward's arm, something playful on her pixie face at having caught Edward staring at me.

Swiftly looking away once eye-contact was broken, I threw the Beast into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste!

Luckily for the Toyota, I stomped on the break in time not to hit it. It was just the sort of car that my old truck would make scrap metal out of. Taking a deep, worried, breath as the owner of the Toyota loudly expressed his unease at me, I cautiously pulled out again with greater success.

Trying desperately to stare ahead of me as I passed their Volvo; but, from a peripheral peek, I could swear I saw Edward laughing at me.