till very angry. It was going to take some effort to make things right with her. I remembered my resolve to be truthful with her...

"That was for Tyler's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." And then I laughed. I couldn't help it, thinking of her expression yesterday.

"You - " she gasped, and then broke off, appearing to be too furious to finish.

There it was - that same expression. I choked back another laugh. She was mad enough already.

"And I'm not pretending you don't exist," I finished. It was right to keep this casual, teasing. She would not understand if I let her see how I really felt. I would frighten her. I had to keep my feelings in check, keep things light...

"So you are trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler's van didn't do the job?"

A quick flash of anger pulsed through me. Could she honestly believe that?

It was irrational for me to be so affronted - she didn't know of the transformation that had happened in the night. But I was angry all the same.

"Bella, you are utterly absurd," I snapped.

Her face flushed, and she turned her back on me. She began to walk away.

Remorse. I had no right to my anger.

"Wait," I pleaded.

She did not stop, so I followed after her.

"I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm not saying it isn't true" - it was absurd to imagine that I wanted her harmed in any way - "but it was rude to say it, anyway."

"Why won't you leave me alone?"

Believe me, I wanted to say. I've tried.

Oh, and also, I'm wretchedly in love with you.

Keep it light.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me." A course of action had just occurred to me, and I laughed.

"Do you have a multiple personality disorder?" she asked.

It must seem that way. My mood was erratic, so many new emotions coursing through me.

"You're doing it again," I pointed out.

She sighed. "Fine then. What do you want to ask?"

"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday..." I watched the shock cross her face, and choked back another laugh. "You know, the day of the spring dance - "

She cut me off, finally returning her eyes to mine. "Are you trying to be funny?" Yes. "Will you let me finish?"

She waited in silence, her teeth pressing into her soft lower lip.

That sight distracted me for a second. Strange, unfamiliar reactions stirred deep in my forgotten human core. I tried to shake them off so I could play my role.

"I heard you say that you were going to Seattle that day, and I was wondering if you wanted a ride?" I offered. I'd realized that, better than just questioning her about her plans, I might share them.

She stared at me blankly. "What?"

"Do you want a ride to Seattle?" Alone in a car with her - my throat burned at the thought. I took a deep breath. Get used to it.

"With who?" she asked, her eyes wide and bewildered again.

"Myself, obviously," I said slowly.

"Why?"

Was it really such as shock that I would want her company? She must have applied the worst possible meaning to my past behavior.

"Well," I said as casually as possible, "I was planning to go to Seattle in the next few weeks, and, to be honest, I'm not sure if your truck can make it." It seemed safer to tease her than to allow myself to be serious.

"My truck works just fine, thank you very much for your concern," she said in the same surprised voice. She started walking again. I kept pace with her.

She hadn't really said no, so I pressed that advantage.

Would she say no? What would I do if she did?

"But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?"

"I don't see how that is any of your business," she grumbled.

That still wasn't a no. And her heart was beating faster again, her breath coming more quickly.

"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business."

"Honestly, Edward, I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my friend."

A thrill shot through me when she spoke my name.

How to keep it light and yet be honest at the same time? Well, it was more important to be honest. Especially on this point.

"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be." "Oh, thanks, now that's all cleared up," she said sarcastically.

She paused, under the edge of the cafeteria's roof, and met my gaze again. Her heartbeats stuttered. Was she afraid?

I chose my words carefully. No, I could not leave her, but maybe she would be smart enough to leave me, before it was too late.

"It would be more...prudent for you not to be my friend." Staring into the melted chocolate depths of her eyes, I lost my hold on light. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella." The words burned with much too much fervor.

Her breathing stopped and, in the second it took for it to restart, that worried me.

How much had I scared her? Well, I would find out.

"Will you go to Seattle with me?" I demanded, point blank.

She nodded, her heart drumming loudly.

Yes. She'd said yes to me.

And then my conscious smote me. What would this cost her?

"You really should stay away from me," I warned her. Did she hear me? Would she escape the future I was threatening her with? Couldn't I do anything to save her from me?

Keep it light, I shouted at myself. "I'll see you in class."

I had to concentrate to stop myself from running as I fled.

6. Blood Type

I followed her all day through other people's eyes, barely aware of my own surroundings.

Not Mike Newton's eyes, because I couldn't stand any more of his offensive fantasies, and not Jessica Stanley's, because her resentment toward Bella made me angry in a way that was not safe for the petty girl. Angela Weber was a good choice when her eyes were available; she was kind - her head was an easy place to be. And then sometimes it was the teachers who provided the best view.

I was surprised, watching her stumble through the day - tripping over cracks in the sidewalk, stray books, and, most often, her own feet - that the people I eavesdropped on thought of Bella as clumsy.

I considered that. It was true that she often had trouble staying upright. I remembered her stumbling into the desk that first day, sliding around on the ice before the accident, falling over the low lip of the doorframe yesterday... How odd, they were right. She was clumsy.