Disclaimer-I do not own the books or any of the characters. If I did I would not be writing this, I would be writing the books!
Oh no. I thought. Please, anything but that.
Of course, my silent pleas did nothing. My teacher continued to explain our class assignment.
"You must each write a short poem about the most important thing in your life right now." Mr. Varner told us.
Mike raised his hand.
Mike sat up straighter and asked, "The most important thing?"
The teacher suppressed an impatient sigh. "Yes, Mike. The most important thing."
Mike nodded and slumped down, looking toward me. Oh, great. I rolled my eyes and glanced to my side. My heart began to beat faster as I came upon Edward. Our eyes met when he heard my heart accelerate, but the moment before he had been glaring at Mike.
"Finally, there are going to be presentations from students I select." Mr. Varner finished. I immediately began to panic. Edward noticed my stress and mouthed relax. I could tell he wanted to do more, but Mr. Varner would probably get mad if we held hands in class. I tried to do as he said, but to no success. Oh well. At least I knew what I was going to write about. I could tell from the look in Edward's eyes that he was having the same idea.
Mr. Varner approached our desks and I bent over my paper, writing a title so it would look like I was busy working. Edward already had half a page down and was pretending to ponder over what he had already written. I shook my head and focused more on my poem. What could I write about Edward that would be read to the class? I knew with my luck I would be picked to read.
I looked once more to Edward, and then inspiration came.
My hand flew across the page, my horrid handwriting even more illegible from the speed of which I wrote. It was short and sweet, and it expressed myself in a way I could be proud of.
I finished just as Mr. Varner cleared his throat and brought the class's attention back to him. I noticed Mike hastily cross off a couple words and wondered what kind of embarrassment I would be in for if he was picked to read. "Are you all finished?" Mr. Varner asked, looking at each of us in turn. He looked down to a paper in his hand, and then looked back up.
"Mike Newton, please come read your poem for us."
Mike jumped up eagerly and almost sprinted to the front of the room. I groaned quietly and I heard Edward's low growl from beside me. Obviously Mike's poem was not going to be pleasant.
Mike held his notebook in front of him, cleared his throat, and recited,
"Waves of brown hair
Eyes always bright
Your face, so fair
I think of at night
When he said my name I almost puked. It was one thing to write about me, quite another to include my name. And Mike wasn't finished.
"Hands so small
Mind so big
You're in my thoughts
Even in Trig
I hunched down in my seat, praying for the torture to be over. Edward's continuous growling, loud enough for only me to hear, was furious.
"You don't love me
For this I'm sad
I admit I want you
You just get mad
And then he lowered his notebook and looked directly at me. I averted my gaze, knowing my face was a deep red. Edward's growling had ceased, and when I dared to look in his direction, I saw his forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose, like he was trying to keep himself from killing Mike right then.
Mr. Varner cleared his throat; the class had begun talking and he needed their attention again.
"Thank you Mike. That was very, erm, nice. Edward Cullen, it's your turn." Edward opened his eyes and walked to the front.
When he got there he glanced at his paper (even though I knew he didn't need it) and began to chant his poem in his velvet voice. My heart melted at the sound.
"She comes and approaches me
Our hands fit like a glove
I'm amazed by her beauty
I don't know what she sees in me
Skin as white as a dove
Yet she's always beside me
I'll race in my car
To save her from harm
As he said the last two lines he looked directly at me, and I felt the blush creep up on my face. A smile spread from my lips and he returned a small one before returning to his seat.
Everyone watched him go in awed silence, and I was embarrassed by the sudden attention I received as he sat. To my surprise, he seemed just as embarrassed.
The talking began again, this time with much more enthusiasm. Mr. Varner was taking a couple moments to collect himself up front. As I watched him curiously, Edward leaned closer to me.
"Did you like it?" He asked, and I detected a touch of anxiety in his voice.
"Like it?" I repeated. "Of course! I loved it! I just hope mine's half as good."
"I'm sure it will be much better." Before I had time to deny it Mr. Varner cleared his throat again.
"Isabella Swan? Your poem, please" My face flushed and I grabbed my notebook, tripping twice and just managing to catch myself before I reached the front.
I held my notebook in front of me and took a shaky breath, preparing myself.
Slowly, I read,
"Your cool breath surrounds me
My heart picks up pace
Your strong arms secure me
I gaze at your face
I love you so dearly
I need you as mine
Stay right here beside me
I'll pay any fine
Our love is like fire
That will never burn out
We were made for each other
Let there never be doubt"
I had kept my head down the entire time, and when I raised my eyes I was surprised to see everyone clapping. Everyone except Mike, that is. He was fuming to himself, and I was glad he hadn't thought I was talking about him. Maybe he had finally accepted I was with Edward and that was never going to change. I returned to my seat and sat down, fidgeting nervously.
Mr. Varner stood and addressed the class.
"Everyone besides Mr. Newton, Mr. Cullen, and Ms. Swan will please leave their poems on my so they can receive a grade. You three," he continued, looking at Mike, Edward, and me. "may come to me after class to receive your grade." Just then the bell rang. Mr. Varner nodded his head and said, "You are dismissed."
I walked cautiously up to his desk with Edward, Mike trailing behind. Mr. Varner glanced at us and said,
"Ah yes. Let's see." He shuffled the papers in his hands and continued, "Ms. Swan, that was a lovely poem. You get an A . As do you, Mr. Cullen. Mow Mr. Newton," he turned to Mike. "Your poem was, um, interesting, but it lacked the sincerity. It's as if you meant it, but inside you weren't into it because you felt there was no point. I'm giving you a B ." Mr. Varner continued to give Mike tips on how to really improve his poem writing skills as Edward grabbed my hand and pulled me away from them.
We strolled to our next class and I looked nervously at Edward's face. He was gazing intently at me and I could feel my face heat up.
"Did you like it?" I finally asked, repeating the words he had asked me earlier.
"Like it?" He asked, and I could tell he remembered too. He chuckled. "I love it, you sill girl." He placed that hand that wasn't in mine on my cheek. "Not as much as I love you," he amended, eyes twinkling. "But it is definitely on my top 10 list." I smiled at his assurances and leaned into him as we walked to class. Before we entered he kissed me, his strong arms securing me.
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