Mike, I have something to ask you…No, that wouldn't work. It implied I had something to ask him, when in fact he was supposed to think that nobody had anything to ask him… or something?
Mike, do you like Jessica? I don't actually want to know but neither does Jessica, or anyone? This was so not going to work. I leaned forward in my seat and held my head in my hands. The only way I could see of getting the information from him as per Jessica's instructions was to a) Make him believe that God was talking to him, or b) somehow enter his mind, convince him he was a schizophrenic, and then get him to talk to himself- out loud.
'Hey, Edward, would you get your head out of palms and watch the road?'
My car, my rules, I thought but didn't say. Jasper was sitting in the seat next to me, doing his calculus homework- it was Rosalie who had spoken. I considered kicking her out and making her walk to school, but seeing as we were only about five minutes away I saw no point in it. Besides, she would almost certainly tell Carlisle that I had done so, and I didn't want any reason for him to notice me- I still hadn't asked Bella to the dance.
Jasper nudged me with his elbow.
'Hey, Edward, this circle, in the middle, what does it mean?'
I glanced over at the book in his lap. It was a maze of shapes with numbers intricately placed in the centre of each. I shrugged.
'How the hell would-'
She smacked me with her handbag from the backseat.
'Would you watch the road?'
I pulled into a parking space and killed the gas.
'I'd love to stare at the asphalt with you, Rosalie, but right now, I have to get to school.'
She scowled at me.
'I am so driving home.'
We all exited the car, and I had an idea.
'Hey Rosalie, you know this kind of thing. How do you ask someone something, without them knowing who asked it?'
Rosalie tilted her head to the side and opened the boot for Emmett.
'Ah… I don't know, you could send them a note?'
I raised my eyebrows at her.
'And how, then, would I get an answer?'
She looked confused.
'An answer? I don't know. But you didn't ask me that,'
She pointed out, 'you asked me how to ask someone a question anonymously.'
As I entered the school I made my own plan. It was perfect. Alright, not perfect, but the best I could come up with on such short notice. I would set up a new email account during Media Studies (I never did any work then anyway, we were doing a photography project, supposed to take five weeks, but I had gotten an obscure photo of a dog with a choker chain round it's neck bowing to it's owner- at sunrise- and titled it 'enslavement, of mans best friend'. I was soo going to get full marks.). After setting up this email account I would print out a note saying;
'Mike, this is Anonymous,
Do you like Jessica Stanley?
Email the answer to blah blah blah
That is all.'
I know for a fact that Mike likes thinking of himself as someone who is special, the kind of person who gets secret missions. Although he would probably think that Anonymous was an exchange student, but that's his problem...
In media studies
Mr. Reefs stood at the front of the class, waving his arms wildly.
'Passion.' He said. 'There must be Passsion.'
He clicked his fingers and threw his hands up into the air.
'What do I want?' He asked the question as if imploring God.
The class answered, tiredly. Mr. Reefs clapped once.
'That's right! Your photos, they must show what humanity is. What it is!!'
He spun on his heels (his very spiffy, purple alligator heels) and pointed at me.
'Edward.' He hissed.
I sighed and lowered the web page I had been on.
'Edward, what are you going to do for your photography project?'
He smiled manically at me. I'm not an idiot, though. I was hardly going to tell him I was finished.
'I was thinking about showing the darker side of humanity, in my photo, Mr. Reefs.'
His eyes widened and his voice lowered dramatically.
'The darker side. Ooh.'
And he moved on. I always find it odd, that teachers in such subjects as art and music and drama and media, always seem quite insane. Or perhaps it isn't that odd. I decided not to get a career in the arts or the media when I grew up, as I printed out the note for Mike.
I was going to ask Edward about his car lifting abilities in science, I decided. I pictured the conversation in my head:
I would set my books down on the desk, and when Edward breezed into class I would accidentally knock one of my books off the desk, where it would fall at Edwards sexily shoe-clad feet.
'Oh, dear.' My hand would fly to my mouth and his eyes would follow. He would pick up the book and hand it to me- eyes smoldering at the intimacy of passing 'Biology For Beginners' from his hand to mine.
'I'm so stupidly clumsy.' I would whisper.
His face would soften and he hand would brush a previously unnoticed tear from my cheek.
'You're perfect,' he would say. 'Beautiful.'
'Edward, you, you lifted the car off…'
He would sigh.
'Yes, Bella. I have never told you before, but, you're special, I think. I am superhuman Bella. I was not allowed to do it but…I love you Bella.'
And we would embrace, and the rest of the class would break out in Bollywood dancing, and all would be perfect.
'Move aside, slag.'
I stepped into Biology and some nerd pushed past me. Some foul mouthed nerd that I might just decide to spill acid on later in the year. I tripped over to my desk, forever the damsel in distress, and dumped my books onto the table, a bit pissed that Edward was already there, fiddling with a piece of A4 and staring at Mike Newton.
I followed Edwards eyes, and it felt odd to look at the same thing as him, rather than just at him. Mike was talking to the teacher, and trying to hand him a note.
'Later, later! Class has started'
Mike huffed and started walking back to his desk, a few rows behind ours, crumpling the note angrily. As he passed, Edward took his own note and started groping insanely at Mike with it, possibly trying to get it into his pocket. Which was odd, but on the plus side, as he leaned out of his chair I got a good view of his arse.
Edward sat back in his seat and huffed annoyedly, still clutching the note in his hand. He turned his head and glared at me briefly, but I think he was just sharing his emotions towards Mike with me, not actually being angry with me. I mean he couldn't be annoyed at me, I mean, we were soul mates.
Edwards POV (halfway through science, or biology, whatever)
I glowered at my desk, and felt like a mild failure. I had already had a chance to get the note to Mike, and had failed. I glared at Bella, who seemed to be writing poetry instead of taking notes. God I could picture the dance now. She would be dressed in black, trip over to me,and then annoy the hell out me the whole time with angsty poetry.
I shook my head. Bella couldn't write poetry. I bet she didn't even know what poetry was. I heard a chair pull back, looked behind me, and snatched my note out of my hoodie pocket. Mike was walking past. Possibly to go to the toilet. Except... he had his bag with him. He was leaving?
That wasn't good. That was taking away my chances, or limiting them at least. That was totally, like, unfair. Sucky. Craptastic. Bella started to say something,
'Shut it!' I said.
Mike was passing, but the back pocket of his bag was open. I flung myself, discreetly, at it, and tried to stuff the paper in. I was almost here, so close... Bella pulled my shoulder back just in time to stop me. I screamed.
Which was not a good idea. Because screaming in a previously boring and quiet biology class is embarassing and noticable. Everyone turned to stare at me and Bella tried to pat my shoulder reassuringly.
'DON'T TOUCH ME. You, you ruiner!'
I looked up, and was grateful that Mr. Banner had left the room with Mike. DOdgy, yes, but also convenient.
Bella narrowed her eyes at me.
'Yes, aren't you intelligent!'
'You just regret that you ever lifted that car off of me!'
'I want to go home! I want to talk to my dad!'
Talk to her dad? No, then he would talk to Carlisle, and I would be, like, automobile impaired. I looked down and tried to control my breathing.
'I do not regret lifting, not that I ever did lift, that car off of you Bella.'
'You hate that I lived!'
I didn't like her, but I'm not a death wisher... much.
'No, I'm glad, really. I'm glad that you lived.'
She crossed her arms and squinted menacingly at me.
Oh, come on! I racked my brains for what I could do... and all that came through my head was asking her to the dance. But I was not going to do that. Not yet, if I could avoid it.
I hit my head to start the ideas flowing.
'would you like to... ah, come to my house, ah, for, like, some time?'
Her eyes lit up, and I hated her.
Damn it damn it damn it damn it. The bell rang and I raced away from the room, looking for Mikes locker, and smashing my fist into it with hopelessness when I found it.
At least Carlisle would get to find out how hard it was to endure her presence too.