Author’s Note: Thank you so much for all of your reviews! Since Blue Moon has hit the one-hundred-and-fifty reviews mark, I'm rewarding all of you by posting a new, exciting chapter, while trying to adhere to some of the advice you, readers, have suggested or so thoughtfully given to me to help me improve. I'm currently limited on time, so I'll try to reply to each of your review in a PM rather than posting it in this next chapter.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga and all related literary characters are © 2003 – 2009 to Stephanie Meyer, etc. This is an unauthorized work of fiction, and should not be regarded as canon or real in any way. All unrelated characters are © 2009 to me and are not be used in any other works of fanfiction not authorized or written by me without my permission.

~ Blue Moon ~

"That I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life." - Rabindranath Tagore

2. Strange Encounters

Part III

Raina’s P.O.V.

I didn’t know exactly when I was woken up – I assume it was around four in the morning, give or take ten minutes past or so – but I was aroused from my deep sleep by some force gently shaking my shoulder.

“Raina, sweetie, wake up,” came the booming voice cutting through my bleary mind, the deep tenor belonging to my father. He gently shook me again, and I cracked my eyelids open as a low groan slid through my teeth.

“What is it?” I asked groggily, my vision hazy for a few minutes before, after several blinks, clearing up to reveal my father’s figure; he was already dressed for work.

“I apologize for this,” my father said, “But your mother and I got home after you were already asleep, and we both wanted to know how your day went at school, since we didn’t have the opportunity yesterday.” He looked at me with a half-smile on his face, his eyes bright and eager, expectant for my response – which took me at least several moments to speak aloud.

“Um…sure, I guess. What do you want to know?” I asked, uncertain about what he wanted me to talk about first.

“How did you like it? Did you make any friends?” my father asked, trying to be nonchalant and cool, but his voice betrayed the hopefulness in it, and I sighed. Of course he would want to know all about whether or not I had made any friends; I had been friendless for quite some time before arriving with my parents in Forks, mainly because I couldn’t relate to people well, and because all of the other kids my age all thought I was some sort of freak of nature.

Up until recently it didn’t bother me very much, as I tried to tune out all of their gossip and chatter about me in the years before Forks High; but after a while, especially after seeing the other girls in class gets boyfriends that they toted around everywhere to show off, my self-chosen solitude began to grow quite lonely, and I attempted to reach out a few times to the others to try and befriend one of them, only to be promptly rejected. Luckily I was pretty enough not to be ridiculed too much, but after attempt after failed attempt to try and connect with my fellow peers, I walled myself in even more, cutting myself off completely from the social realm of school; no longer did I speak during class, or during the entire day, for that matter, silently flitting from class to class and devoting all my time to my studies. It almost felt as though with every passing day, the invisible but solid barriers of my social confinement pressed upon me, as I peered through the hidden glass at the other students as they laughed and conversed with one another – unseen, as though I didn’t even exist to them – with the few notable examples of the boys, who snuck furtive, shy glances my way every now and then.

That is, until I moved to Forks, and met Bella Swan.

“Well…a lot of the other students have multiple classes with one another, so I got to meet a few people. There’s this one girl in my calculus class, Jessica, who seems quite amicable…and the boys, of course, are all too kind.” I paused for a moment to take a breath, and then added, my voice and expression brightening, “And there’s one girl, Bella Swan, who I met. She’s shy like me, quieter than talkative, but very nice and thoughtful. She even looks very similar to me. If her hair were just a shade darker, one could probably mistake us for twins.” I let out a low, pleasant laugh; just remembering Bella, and her kind smile and deep, chocolate eyes, caused me to feel just a bit happier and positive, despite our friendship being in its infancy stages.

“Is that so?” my father inquired, rubbing his chin, “That’s interesting. I’m so glad that you’ve finally found someone your own age that you can talk to.” His smile widened, revealing perfect, angular white teeth identical to mine glinting in the darkness, and his eyes reflected the warmth and joy he must be feeling, now that he had learned that his well-gifted, but socially inept, only daughter had at last made a friend. “Is she the daughter of Police Chief Charlie Swan, by any chance?” my father added.

“I believe so,” I replied, slightly uncertain; after all, in a small town like Forks, who else could possibly have the last name Swan and be Bella’s father? Intrigued, I made a mental note to myself to inquire more about her family and her life before coming to Forks in the future. “Do you know him?” I asked, my curiosity pricked.

“Not personally,” my father replied, “But your mother mentioned meeting the police chief at a PTA meeting that she went to. She says he’s a very nice man. I hear he comes from an old family here in Forks, dating back all the way back to one of the original explorers of this area and founders of the town, a man called James Gilchrist Swan. According to some of the folk around here, when the settlers first started coming to the area, he worked with the Makahs on their reservation, forty-two miles from here, and occasionally with the Quileutes down at La Push. He helped them to preserve their language and culture, and to get them proper representation in the Washington state government. Heck, I think even helped ‘em when a cholera outbreak struck Forks and La Push back in eighteen-ninety-eight, helped to get ‘em aid and medicine and such - saved a lot of their children and people from dyin’. To most of the people here, especially the older folks who remember the stories passed down by their parents, he’s a town hero, a legend of sorts. But from what I heard, Charlie and his daughter are his last remaining descendants. The Native Americans around here especially have a deep respect for their family.”

After processing this new information for a minute, my thoughts inadvertently wandered to the Cullens, and in particular a certain bronze-haired, pale-skinned boy. When I recalled their unusually large family, and their oddities, I felt reproach for the question I wanted to ask my father next; I felt as though I were somehow trespassing on someone else’s domain, where I was not wanted, nor welcomed. Despite feeling uncomfortable, I swallowed the lump in my throat, and asked in a low voice, “Do you know about the Cullen family?”

My father looked confused and perplexed for a moment, and then replied, “No, I believe I don’t. But I have heard some of the folks around town talking about them. I heard they’re newcomers – only came down here from Alaska around two years ago, and settled down in the old, abandoned Walker house on the outskirts of town. The father is a well-respected doctor at the local hospital, or so I heard.”

“Yes, they’re the ones,” I affirmed, “I didn’t know that their dad was a doctor.” Maybe he gave them all plastic surgery or did experiments on them to make them look like models, I thought humorously to myself; but, now that I thought about it, the thought did seem sort of morbid – a doctor who adopted numerous children just so he could perform experiments on them. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the gruesome mental image that had popped into my head; from what my father had said, Dr. Cullen was an honorable man, not an insane physician - but, then again, it could just be a cover-up, and many mad people seemed quite normal at first. “Well…his kids seem a little…um…different,” I added hesitantly, “They…seem…well, kind of like me. I mean, they don’t seem to fit in with everyone else.” And Alice is a bit weird, I added in my head, but refrained from saying the thought aloud.

This caught my father’s attention, and his expression changed ever so slightly, becoming more attuned to my words and attentive, his dark gray eyes widening a fraction of a centimeter. “Different?” he repeated, his brow furrowing, “Exactly how?” His voice seemed nonchalant, but there was something in it beneath the outer exterior that bothered me – concern and worry, perhaps? Or was it merely curiosity and interest?

“Well,” I began, turning over the all too clear memories of the adopted siblings in my head, “They look very pale – paler than all of the other students. Except for me, of course.” I gave my father a thin, staid smile, and continued, “There are five of them in all: Alice, Emmett, and Edward Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. I heard from Jessica that they’re all supposedly adopted siblings, and that Jasper and Rosalie are the niece and nephew of Dr. Cullen’s wife. I was also told that the two are supposedly twins.” I paused, hesitating, and then finally added with shiver, “They all have dark eyes, and don’t seem to like to eat very much…”

No sooner than I had said that, I saw my father’s face visibly blanch; or way it merely a trick of the light? It was hard to tell, as his skin was almost as tanned as my mother’s; but, in any case, his smile disappeared, replaced by a tight, thin, worried line. He didn’t speak or reply right away when I had trailed off, but rather sat there in silence for several seconds, growing paler and paler, and his countenance more shocked and…almost fearful?

“Dad?” I asked uncomfortably, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

My dad paused, shook his head, and then replied in a slightly shaky voice, “No, sweetie. I’m perfectly dandy.” He hesitated again, and then added, his voice dull and hollow-sounding, “Well, then. If they’re not eating anything at school, then someone should inform Dr. Cullen. Who knows, his kids may have picked up anorexia or bulimia recently.” My father had never spoken in such a tone of voice before – not even as far back as I can remember, and what I can recall of my childhood and preteen years - and it sounded more like a zombie, and not my dad, speaking, the enunciated words viscous and dreary.

We lapsed back into an awkward, long silence, before my father finally checked his watch, and said, “Well, sweetie, it’s almost time for your mother and I to head out. I wish you luck today at school. Bye, sweetie…and be safe.” Dad leaned over to give me a quick peck on the forehead before getting off the edge of my bed and heading out the door, his last phrase echoing in my mind as I frowned, perplexed.

Be safe. He’d never said that to me before, either.

But, suspicious as I was, I felt my eyelids drooping as I stifled a yawn, and crawling back into bed; I drifted back off to sleep as I heard the sound of car tires out front as my parents and the Spider left the house for Port Angeles.

The rest of the school week, thank the Lord, was, for the most part, uneventful – with the notable exception of Mike cracking an oral sex joke at the table when Bella got a banana for lunch one day, and I nearly slapped him upside the head for it. I soon became accustomed to my regular routine of classes and my assigned seats in each of them, the same routine day in and day out soon turning from embarrassing and cringe-worthy to uninteresting and monotonous as the students soon tired of trying to invent new gossip to spread around the campus about Bella and me.

By Friday, I was able to recognize several more faces, and had memorized the full names of each of the friends that Bella and I hung out every day with at lunch, as well as a little about their respective families, personalities, and otherwise: Mike Newton, who loved to fool around and whose dad owned a camping supply store; Jessica Stanley, who was one of the biggest gossips in school and notorious for rooting out and spilling the beans on several others’ personal secrets – although how in the world she was able to figure out such things, I had no idea; some rumors stated that she used a mix of seduction and fabrication, or else just concocted a story based merely on rumor. I also soon learned that Jessica was hopelessly crushing on Edward Cullen despite his prior refusal of her advances, along with dozens of other girls – apparently Edward was the school’s foremost heart-throb, and it was as plain as day to see why – but had recently turned her hopes to Mike, who was still doggedly trying to pursue Bella.

In addition to Mike and Jessica, I also memorized the names and such of the others: Lauren Mallory, who was nearly identical to Jessica in everything, save for looks, and was the most cynical and pessimistic of the bunch; Tyler Crowley, who was on both the basketball and football team, a major athlete who loved to exercise and was into several different sports, and a infamous ladies’ man; Eric Yorkie, the total all-around techno geek and expert with a case of bad acne that never seemed to lessen, as well as always toting some form of the latest gadget or what-not; Ben Johnson, a quieter, meeker fellow, more scholar than athlete, who was also on the football team and who could be termed as a geek/jock hybrid - as he was muscular enough not be a geek, but not enough to be a jock; and Angela Weber, the daughter of the local Lutheran pastor and who was just about as shy as Bella, Ben, and I were, a definite bookish type who could always be seen studying or with a book in her hand, her reading glasses (for she was near-sighted) in the other.

And, of course, who could forget Devon Bradford, the senior geek with a case of acne even worse than Eric’s, but with less courage and more shyness than the other geek? Devon, despite my obvious disinterest in him as a potential suitor, still asked to walk me to my gym class with Bella every day after my senior English class had ended – and, as always, to be polite, I had obliged, but kept my distance from him to make sure he didn’t get the wrong message from me.

Speaking of my senior English class, I was more than slightly disappointed when Alice Cullen ignored me entirely for the rest of the week; whenever I entered class, she would look up with a small smile and give me a curt nod of acknowledgment before returning her gaze to stare at the board. Every day she repeated the notion in the same manner, always slightly shifting to the furthest edge of her seat away from me as I passed by her to seat myself, her arms and jaw visibly tightening. Her behavior confused me to no end; why would she greet me so excitedly on my first day of class with her, only to ignore me as though I were a passerby for the rest of the week? In any case, Devon had been right about one thing: Alice acted as queerly as she looked, and I oddly felt both crestfallen and thankful for her sudden and radical change in behavior.

Meanwhile, Bella and I seemed to grow closer each day; although we didn’t speak to each other much aside from small talk every now and then on frivolous topics, we soon became inseparable in between classes, walking beside one another as though we had been best of friends for long before we had met. While the feeble bonds of friendship I had formed with the other students at lunch were based purely on loose conversation, Bella and I seemed to form a deeper bond, something that bound us together in an invisible way; it was as though we conversed on a different frequency than the other students, and, oddly, in silence.

In a way, you could compare it to the bond between twins, or two pieces of the same half: we could sense what one other was thinking or feeling without even so much as uttering one word to the other; and, akin to two magnets, we seemed to always find the other in the short time in between periods and stick together until we had to separate. More specifically, I felt drawn to Bella in an inexplicable way, driven by some deep, instinctual need to not only protect her, but also to comfort her, and to do whatever it took to appease her until she regained some semblance of happiness. For, with each passing day, I sensed her growing more upset and anxious, and that in turn made me so tense by the end of each day that, after eating dinner and finishing my homework, I went straight to my bed, crawled under the covers and curled up, falling into the dark oblivion of sleep…and relief.

I dreamt no more of the giant seal who had spoken to me in my dream; in fact, I dreamt dreams that, although serene and peaceful at first, soon morphed into bloody, grisly nightmares. The lion and the lamb dream recurred every night, sometimes several times; and I, despite my best efforts to save the lamb, my attempts were always in vain, and each night I felt devastated…like everything had shut down, and I could no longer breathe. Fortunately, I no longer woke up screaming; instead, I awoke to the sound of my own whimpers and moans, my sweat-soaked body shuddering involuntarily under the drenched covers. But every time, I soon fell back into the black abyss of unconsciousness, my need for rest slowly but steadily forcing my body to adjust to the horrific, violent nightmares that I endured.

Edward Cullen didn’t come back to school.

Every day at lunch, it was the same routine: the Cullens would enter through the glass doors, each respective couple side by side as they seated themselves at their usual table by themselves, and without their elusive bronze-haired sibling. And every time, when I sat next to Bella, I could feel her body tense as the six adopted, beautiful siblings passed the table, her chocolate eyes never once leaving their frames except to glance once or twice at the entrance, before relaxing and engaging in a trifle conversation.

Most of the talk during lunch nowadays centered on one topic – that is, the trip to La Push Ocean Park for all of us that Mike was planning, where we could hang out one afternoon or weekend and hang out, and surf. Both Bella and I were invited, and I eagerly agreed to go; although I preferred warm beaches that you could bask on and curl your toes up in the sand, I had never been to La Push before – much less any northern beach – and was curious to find out what it would be like. I had heard from someone else back in San Diego that when she went to Lake Michigan over the holidays that the beaches there had been made up of mostly pebbles, and the landscape had been dotted with a few Canadian geese, and I wondered if the La Push beach would be similar. Besides, I absolutely loved to swim and water in general, and though, despite living in California, I had never learned to surf, I would probably don a wet suit like Mike and the others who were surfing and dive right in.

My second weekend in Forks was mostly just as monotonous as the school days, consisting of my parents calling to announce an extended stay in Port Angeles, a few calls from Mike and other guys asking me if I wanted to go out (which I politely turned down, using the excuse that I had prearranged plans; in truth, I had no expertise at all in dating, and not the faintest idea what to do, and the fear of committing a first date faux pas held me back – not to mention was sick and tired of the boys’ lavish attentions). Jessica called, asking me if I wanted to go shopping with her, which I reluctantly agreed to; however, she said she needed to postpone it, as another guy that she knew had also asked her out on a date, and she’d promised him she’d meet up with him.

Angela also called, asking me if I could study with her for an upcoming test and help her out with a few Calculus problems, as she was having some difficulty; so, instead, I went over to Angela’s for a few hours to work on homework jointly on Saturday and Sunday. Other than that, I called Bella to see what she was up to; she said she was going to the library, so I agreed that I would accompany her, as I needed to find a new, good book to sink myself into in my spare time.

Much to our disappointment, however, the library was so pitiful in terms of its selection of books that Bella didn’t bother to even get a card; I, on the other hand, purchased a card, just in case – after all, it was only one dollar. Bella ended up talking about how she’d have to drive all the way to Seattle and Portland; seeing as her old truck was in questionable health, I offered to drive her in the Granturismo, but she declined, using the excuse that she didn’t want me to add unnecessary wear and mileage on my family’s new car just because she couldn’t find a good book to read. I told her that I would keep my offer open; again, just in case. Sometimes Bella was just too darn stubborn and unselfish for her own good.

But still, even over the weekend, I had my nightmares; the rain persisted, and I wondered if it were some sort of dreary omen.

On Monday morning, while I was walking with Bella to class, people greeted us in the parking lot – I recognized several of their faces, but couldn’t remember many of their names, and Bella smiled and waved to a majority of them as we passed; I merely gave them a thin, tired smile, too exhausted to remember to lift my hand to wave. For once, it actually wasn’t raining – a rare occasion for Forks; I wondered if God had finally chose to smile down on me and send this omen, and perhaps it might mean things were going to turn around. I couldn’t imagine how right, in both a figurative and literal sense, I was.

In my first English class, I sat by Bella, who sat next to Mike, as usual; we had an easy, short pop quiz on Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights, which Bella and I both scored perfectly on. After this I was starting to feel very happy – happier than I ever thought I would be by this point in time at this school, and happier than I had ever expected to be in Forks. Things seemed to be going well, after all; perhaps I had been wrong all along about how dismal my required tenure here was going to be.

When Bella, Mike, Eric and I stepped outside when the bell had rung, the air was full of swirling, cotton-like bits of white that floated on the breeze, and landed on my clothes and hair. People began to shout excitedly at one another, as I stared in fascination at the falling bits, which quickly melted into little water droplets after gently landing upon my pale hands.

“Wow,” Mike commented, breathing out a smoke-like fog, “It’s snowing.”

Bella looked up at the little snowflakes that ere swiftly building up on the sidewalk and swirling erratically past us, and made a disgusted face; I, however, tilted my head up and back, staring in enthrallment as the little cotton bits fell down from the sky. I had never before seen snow in real-life; I last recalled seeing it on the television many years ago, when I had been a little girl, and I had almost forgotten what it looked like.

“Ew,” Bella replied in repulsion, brushing off a few snowflakes from her sweater.

“Don’t you like snow?” Mike asked, surprised.

“No,” Bella said flatly, “That means it’s too cold for rain.” She paused, and then added, “Besides, I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes – you know, each one unique and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips.”

“Haven’t you ever seen snow fall before?” Mike asked incredulously.

“Sure I have,” Bella said, and then paused, adding, “On TV.”

“What about you, Raina?” Mike asked suddenly, and I abruptly snapped out of my little reverie to glance at him, meeting his blue eyes.

“Likewise here, I’m afraid,” I replied demurely, holding out one hand to catch one of the falling snowflakes, “But I must say, it is fascinating.” I turned my hand over as the snowflake immediately melted, watching as I let the drop of water flow and drip off of my pallid skin.

Mike let out a laugh, and suddenly a big, soggy mass of dripping snow smacked him in the back of his head; all of us turned around to see where it had come from, only to see Eric walking away, his back towards us – and in the wrong direction for his next class. Mike abruptly bent over and began scraping a pile of mush together into a crude snowball as I smiled, biting back a laugh, and Bella’s face twisted in repugnance as she turned on her heel and began to walk off.

“I’ll see you guys at lunch, okay?” Bella called out, walking as she spoke, “Once people start throwing wet stuff, I go inside.”

Mike merely nodded, his eyes focused on Eric as he retreated to class, and I mimicked Mike’s action. “Good luck!” I called, smiling as I turned off in the direction for my next class, quickening my pace to make it before the next bell rang.

Throughout the morning, everyone seemed to chat and talk excitedly about nothing but the recent snowfall; from what I overheard in Spanish, it was the first snowfall of the year. For the most part, I kept my mouth shut, instead opting to listen quietly and attentively while others exchanged ecstatic banter about the snow, while at the same time absorbing as much information as I could from Mrs. Goff’s lesson. Luckily, the teacher chose to pick on the more garrulous students in her class, sparing me for one class to let my eyelids droop and not be called out on my sleepiness.

After Calculus, I joined Jessica and Bella as they walked towards the cafeteria, stifling a large yawn; for once, Bella and I seemed to be complete opposites in terms of personality and body language, with she being alert and vigilant, and I being lethargic and drowsy. Mushy snowballs were flying everywhere, and one of them hit Jessica’s bushy hair and broke into pieces, some of it falling down the back of her shirt as she let out a surprised yelp. Bella fended off a few of the flying snowballs by wielding a binder in her hand as a shield – which Jessica had found utterly hilarious until she’d been hit by a wet, cold, squishy snowball herself – and I, too, let out a musical laugh, until I felt something wet hit me in my throat. The snowball that had been chucked at me melted immediately, drenching my sweater, and I stared down at it in surprise and aversion as the water leaked through my clothes.

“Great,” I said with a sigh. My favorite blue Aeropostale sweater had just been ruined, and by a ball of loosely compacted dirty ice, no less. The soggy fabric, now wet and heavy against my skin, was uncomfortable, so I shrugged my arms out of the sleeves and began to take it off.

“What are you doing?” Jessica asked suddenly, taken aback, “Are you crazy? It’s twenty-eight degrees outside!”

I ignored Jessica for a few minutes as I removed my sweater, which was wet all the way down the front, before turning to look at her with a shrug. “So? I don’t mind the cold,” I replied nonchalantly. Although I preferred the all-encompassing warmth of San Diego to the damp, humid, and frigid environment of Forks, the cold didn’t seem to affect or bother me in the way it did all the other kids – yet another feature that distinguished me as a so-called weirdo.

“So?” Jessica repeated, staring at me dubiously, “It’s freezing outside!”

“And your point is…?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“But…it’s just…never mind,” Jessica said, turning her back towards me with a huff. I could’ve sworn I heard her mutter “Freak,” under her breath, but it could’ve been just a trick of the mind. It didn’t bother me too much; I’d heard it many, many times before, especially at my old school back in San Diego, so I just shrugged it off and moved in next to Bella, and dodging a few more snowballs chucked at us.

Mike caught up with us just as Bella and I reached the glass doors of the cafeteria, laughing hysterically and with globs of ice melting the carefully gelled spikes in his dirty blond hair. He and Jessica chatted vivaciously about the snow fight as we got in line to buy food, my eyes idly eyeing the menu items for the day until I saw Bella glance over at the far side of the cafeteria and abruptly freeze. I heard her inhale sharply, and I involuntarily followed suit, and went rigid as I breathed in the familiar awful saccharine odor – only it was stronger than I had remembered it.

I followed her gaze to where the Cullens usually sat at their table, and saw five people sitting there.

Edward Cullen was back.

“Hello? Bella? What do you want?” I heard Jessica say, and snapped my gaze in her direction to see her tugging on Bella’s arm.

Bella looked down, her face going as red as a cherry tomato. I sensed she was in distress, and I glanced back up at the Cullens, my eyes narrowing, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary; as usual, they were sitting there, not eating, and staring off into space.

“What’s with Bella?” Mike asked Jessica.

“Nothing,” Bella answered quickly, “I’ll just get a soda today.” She hurried off to catch the end of the line, and, sensing her distress, followed her without a word.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Jessica asked.

“Actually, I feel a little sick,” Bella replied a bit hesitantly, her eyes still lingering on the floor.

As Mike and Jessica got their food and we passed the soda rack, I opened the door and plucked out a Seven-Up, offering it to Bella with a genial smile. “Here, Bella,” I said, “Take this. It’ll help your stomach.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Bella replied, holding up her hands, “That’s very nice of you, though.”

“Go ahead,” I insisted as we reached the woman who was the cashier, and I placed the Seven-Up on the counter and paid for it before Bella could even utter a word of objection. I turned and smiled at her, and added, “My treat.”

“Thanks,” Bella murmured, finally accepting the can when I offered it to her again, and we proceeded in silence to our usual table; all the while, Bella never once looked up, her eyes focused on her feet.

When we seated ourselves, Bella sipped the soda slowly; from the tense look on her face, I could almost feel her sickness as her stomach churned, and I tried to think of a way to help her feel better. Mike, too, seemed to be concerned for Bella’s health, and twice he asked how she was feeling; Bella insisted that it was nothing, but when she said this, I saw indecision and nervousness flicker across her strained face.

“Bella, what are you staring at?” Jessica said rudely, her eyes following Bella’s gaze.

At that precise moment, his eyes flashed over in a heartbeat to meet Bella’s, and she flushed a dark crimson, dropping her head in embarrassment and letting her mahogany hair conceal her face.

The sudden anger I felt was indescribable. I wanted nothing more than to march over to the Cullens’ table and rip Edward’s head clean off of his shoulders. I realized suddenly that something had happened in between Bella and Edward – something that embarrassed her, and something that I obviously didn’t know about. I clenched my teeth and jaw, biting back a vicious snarl.

In an instant, Edward’s eyes flickered to mine.

I was surprised to see that his gaze, while guarded, was full of confusion and questions, as well as curiosity – like he was unsatisfied in some way. I was also shocked to see that his irises were now golden butterscotch, like the color of liquid topaz or honey – a far cry from his gaping black eyes from the week prior. My anger, replaced by surprise, abated a little, and I waited for several moments for him to look away; but when a few seconds went by, and he didn’t, I frowned, my brow furrowing.

What the heck does he want? I thought to myself, squinting as I tried to get a better look at his expression.

I saw him burst into laughter, his eyes now full of amusement. The next thing I knew, I saw his lips moving, and my eyes automatically darted to them.

Meet me after school, he seemed to say.

Wait. Did Edward Cullen just mouth something to me?

Edward chuckled, and tilted his head ever so slightly upwards, and then downwards.

Wait a minute. Did he just…nod at me?

Edward repeated his motion to indicate, without a doubt, his answer.

Holy shit. Did he just…read my mind?

Edward didn’t nod a third time, but instead focused on my eyes again, his gaze flickering with an odd intensity that unnerved me.

The parking lot. Four o’ clock, he mouthed again to me.

But before I could respond, he turned his back towards me, back to look at some infinitesimal crack in the corner of the back wall.

All I could do was sit there, shell-shocked, my mouth agape.

“Edward Cullen was staring at you,” Jessica giggled in Bella’s ear, trying to exploit her sudden embarrassment. I was so shocked out of my wits that I didn’t even turn to look her Jessica, my eyes wholly focused on the back of Edward Cullen’s shirt in disbelief.

“He doesn’t look angry, does he?” Bella asked Jessica worriedly, looking down at her lap as she fidgeted with her hands.

“No,” Jessica responded confusedly, “Should he be?”

“I…I don’t think he likes me,” Bella confessed, and I turned my head around just in time to see her lay her head on her arm, looking positively sick to her stomach.

“The Cullens don’t like anybody…well, they don’t notice anybody enough to like them. But he’s staring at you again,” Jessica said. My eyes instantly flashed over to where Edward was, and he was, indeed, staring at Bella again with curiosity, before noticing my gaze and adverting his eyes.

“Stop looking at him!” Bella hissed.

Jessica snickered, but looked away, and Bella raised her head, eyeing Jessica with a sour look on her face.

Mike interrupted and seized the conversation then – he informed us he was planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join, and my stomach tightened when I recalled Edward’s words. The parking lot. Four o’clock. That was right after school, when Mike planned on having his battle of the blizzard. Meanwhile, Jessica agreed enthusiastically to Mike’s proposal, and the look on her face attested that she would obviously agree to any other group activity that Mike suggested, while Bella remained silent for the rest of the lunch hour. From the way she had used her binder as a shield from snowballs earlier, I knew without a doubt that she would probably hide in the gym once the final bell rang and wait the massive snowball fight out.

When the bell rang, ending the lunch period, I got up with the rest of the group and went to the door; everyone except for Bella and I groaned in unison when they saw the rain had returned, washing away all traces of the snow away in clear rivulets down the sidewalk. Bella pulled her hood up to shield herself from the rain – I suspected she was pleased that she had gotten a pardon from God concerning the so-called battle of the blizzard – and Mike complained bitterly. Instead of walking with Bella to her Biology class, however, I fled in the other direction towards my senior English class, my mind confused and disorganized.

The parking lot. Four o’ clock, Edward’s voice rang in my head.

I felt another wave of bewilderment, shaking my head in disbelief.

There was no way he could have read my mind, I’d decided – even if he looked like some sort of god of some sorts, that didn’t necessarily mean that he had superpowers…right? Besides, people – no matter how they were depicted as superheroes or super-villains in the movies – just couldn’t read people’s minds. These things just didn’t exist in the real world.

As I walked over to my next class, there was only one thought in my mind: what in the world could Edward Cullen want with me?

Author’s Note: Like it? Dislike it? Have any advice or ideas to offer? If you feel so, then please, don’t hesitate to review. Again, please keep in mind that I tried to remain faithful to the book, so don’t say anything snide or derogatory about similarities, please. Also remember I don’t allow flames, but I do allow anonymous reviews – if you have an account, please login before you review. Thank you!