Title: The Day The Earth Stood Still
Author: Sare Liz,
Beta: Colleen P. Because she rocks.
Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer, and I am grateful that she allows us all to play in the sandbox of her construction. Thank you, ma'am.
Continuity: Midnight Sun, EPOV, Canon pairings, Canon ontology, AU.
Rating: Teen, for now. It strikes me that the way Ms. Meyer writes Edward's perspective is not necessarily nor exclusively for a teen audience, as Edward himself is inwardly about as far from a teen as one can get. But my rating is teen, for now, subject to change.

Author's Notes: Due to the nature of this story, much of it comes from Midnight Sun and Twilight, starting on the middle of page 4 of Midnight Sun, but quickly you will notice it diverge. I hope, however, that my characterizations will remain spot on.

Chapter One: First Sight, part one

Edward Cullen.

Reflex reaction. I turned to the sound of my name being called, though it wasn't being called, just thought. That's what happened when people sharpened their thoughts – sometimes thoughts were foggy and nebulous, a mix of audio-visual colors, shapes, and tones, mental manifestations of their angers and anxieties, but other times, more or less often, depending on the person in question, the thoughts were as clearly enunciated as a stage actor's dialogue, and just as loud.

My eyes locked for a small portion of a second with a pair of wide, chocolate-brown human eyes set in a pale, heart-shaped face. I knew the face, though I'd never seen it myself before this moment. It had been the foremost in every human head today. The new student, Isabella Swan. Daughter of the town's chief of police, brought here to live by some new custody situation. Bella. She'd corrected everyone who'd used her full name…

I looked away, bored. It took me a moment to realize that she was not the one to think my name.

Of course she's already crushing on the Cullens, I heard the first thought continue, before I recognized the voice: Jessica Stanley. Not the most interesting or original of minds, nor one of the kindest or compassionate of people. Vipers had a kinder and gentler personality than Jessica Stanley. What a relief it had been when she'd gotten over her misplaced infatuation. It used to be nearly impossible to escape her constant, ridiculous daydreams. I'd wished, at the time, that I could explain to her exactly what would have happened if my lips, and the teeth behind them, had gotten anywhere near her. That would have silenced those annoying fantasies. The thought of her reaction almost made me smile.

Edward and Emmett Cullen, a new mental voice gently whispered. If it hadn't been my own name she'd mentioned, I would never have picked up the barely perceptible, yet sweetly melodic tone of it. It was a sharp, clear thought, and for the moment there was very little background shading to it at all, save a sliver of fascination and awe. Normal, almost. By all rights there ought to be some trepidation in there as well, though there wasn't.

I had to listen hard for the rest, which was always difficult. Listening harder meant having to sort through the rest of the distracting thoughts around her which then seemed all the louder for my efforts. Most of these minds were centered on her. I stared at the bagel before me as I listened.

Rosalie and Jasper Hale, she thought. She must be the stunningly beautiful one. I wonder if the tall, lanky one is Jasper. They look like they could be related. He does look like he's in pain. Alice Cullen, the one who left. Got it. And they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife. I wonder if he's a medical doctor. Are the Hale's adopted, I wonder? She thought it was strange that we should all be so beautiful, but tired looking. It was a thought that was less clearly formed, a background thought; an impression, even.

I wonder which one is the beautiful boyish one. I saw an image of myself in her mind, and the mental fog of confusion – was I Edward or Emmett? But I could see myself, my untidy bronze hair, pale skin, dark eyes complete with the deep purple rings I tend to get when I haven't fed in two or three weeks. The only difference from what I'd normally see in the mirror was the ineffable sense of adoration that colored the vision. It was shocking, because it was so familiar.

It wasn't the way Jessica Stanley had daydreamed about me when we'd first moved here, or the way Tanya thought of me, or any other person who'd looked at me with any softer emotion shading their thoughts. No, that wasn't it at all.

It was the way that Carlisle and Esme saw each other in their thoughts. It was the way that Rosalie and Emmett saw each other in their thoughts. It was the way that Alice and Jasper saw each other in their thoughts.

I was stunned, and wanted to take another glance, but didn't dare just yet. I knew she was still looking at me. I stayed tuned to her, listening, even as I spoke softly and quickly to Emmett, as if to negate the enormity of what seemed to be occurring.

"New girl seems harmless. Jessica Stanley's giving her the lowdown on the Cullen Clan." I started to pick apart my bagel. Little human gestures, always keeping up the façade.

He chuckled under his breath. I hope she's making it good, he thought.

"Rather unimaginative, actually. But so is she. I'll keep you posted," I said, leaving it there and shifting my focus back entirely to Bella. If Emmett thought anything in response, I missed it.

Strange, unpopular names, she thought. The kinds of names grandparents have. But maybe that is in vogue here – small town names? Jessica, she thought of her neighbor. No, that's a perfectly common name. There were two girls named Jessica in my History class back home.

"They are… very nice-looking," I heard her say, and it was true that her voice was a very appealing complement to her thoughts. She was trying to be kind, trying to maintain the conversation, and it seemed difficult for her.

They're all together? There was a sudden flash of unspoken horror in her thoughts, and I could see that same picture of me, adored. She thought I was taken, whoever I was.

In that moment I had a totally irrational desire to permanently wire Jessica Stanley's mouth shut, but I squelched it with great success.

Emmett and Rosalie, Jasper and Alice, and they live together. Jessica is so small town in her condemnation… and yet even in Phoenix that would cause gossip, Bella thought.

"Which ones are the Cullens? They don't look related…" she trailed off.

Not related. Okay, well, that's not so bad, then. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, though, twins. They're the blond ones. Right, I guessed that. They're foster children?

"They look a little old for foster children," she commented dubiously.

They don't look 18, either, but I guess we're all getting older faster these days. They've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight, wow. She's their aunt. I wonder what happened to their parents? How kind of for her to take them in, especially how young she was. I bet she's a more with-it mom than Renee. And it looks like they turned out pretty well, for experiencing something so tragic, so young.

"That's really kind of nice – for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything." I could hear the truth in her thoughts behind her words. She wasn't just saying it.

I officially liked Bella Swan. As a point of fact, Carlisle and Esme were incredibly nice, and it was good that others recognized it.

Jessica doesn't like the doctor and his wife? I bet she's jealous. Not everyone has a good family. Not all of us have the benefit of even both parents at once. Then I heard her thoughts take a turn for the sharp, as she listened to Jessica's increasingly negative commentary about Esme. Should the fact that she's unable to have one child lessen her kindness for taking on such a huge responsibility as to adopt five of them?

I liked Bella Swan even more.

She was looking at us again, furtively, her eyes darting over, and then back again.

Strange family, she thought. Staring at the walls, not eating. I wonder why I've never seen them before. I wonder if they've always lived here.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" Surely, she thought, I would have noticed them on one of my summers here.

They just moved down from Alaska, two years ago? You mean I'm not the only new person here? Oh, thank God! I wonder if they had to go through the horrors I'm having to deal with. At least they had each other, though that might not necessarily make it easier, I guess. The amount of underlying compassion in her tone was almost overwhelming. Well, at least I'm not the only newcomer here, and certainly I'm not the most interesting by any standard. That's some relief, anyway.

The vision of me was back in her thoughts, me as I sat at the table half turned away, fiddling with my bagel, which she'd noticed I wasn't eating. Bronze hair, check. Pale skin, check. Slight build – well, at least compared to Emmett – check. Youngest looking, check. Inhumanly beautiful, check. And yet, there it was, the unmistakable foundation of her thoughts, that same mental aftertaste of adoration that was so common among my family when one of us looked at our mates.

One of us, I say, but exclude myself.

How could it be? How could she be so different from every other human I'd ever come into contact with? There had been thousands – tens of thousands – that had interacted with me, thoughts in which I had seen myself. Why would she be any different?

I couldn't help myself. I had to look.

Well, she was beautiful, but many humans are. Her eyes were a deeper sort of brown than the usually flat and depthless variety I'd noticed on people before. She dressed as if she didn't care what she wore, so long as it served its purpose, which had nothing to do with fashion. She wore no makeup, but then, she didn't need to. She was still young, and her skin was flawless and nearly as pale as mine. She was… appealing, and it bothered me that she had to sit next to Jessica the Viper. She shouldn't have to be exposed to someone as spiteful and self-centered as that. She was appealing to me and I wanted to know more, and even as I realized that, it confused the hell out of me. Why should I want to know more about a human? I'd never wanted it before so why should I start now? But that was it – there had never been one like Bella Swan before.

Another thought that confused me.

My analysis of her had taken only a fraction of a second, during which I held her gaze, but quickly by human standards she looked away.

She was embarrassed to be caught staring at me. She thought I was beautiful, but had no wish to be rude, or to make me feel uncomfortable. The beautiful boy seems frustrated. Who is he? Which one is he, already? Edward or Emmett? she mentally demanded of the girl next to her, who seemed to be drawing it out with all the gossip she knew, making the unveiling that much more savory and dramatic.

"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" She peeked over at me, and yes, now I did feel frustrated, Bella, thank you for noticing. Why do you matter, dear sweet human? Why are you so interesting?

Oh, yes, I thought with a strange surge of satisfaction when her eyes slid slowly back to mine. Something curled in my stomach as we held each other's gaze, and it was decidedly pleasant.

Still staring, she thought.

Yes, yes I am. You are a mystery wrapped in an enigma, Bella Swan, worth of gazing upon.

But not gawking.

I do not gawk. That goes without saying. I'm glad you noticed. But why? Why do you notice? Why do I notice? Why does this matter? Why are you so damnedably fascinating?

Still frustrated.

Of course I'm frustrated! You'd be frustrated, too, Bella.

Still beautiful.

Likewise, my dear, I thought, only realizing a moment later that my own underlying thoughts were edging toward the same adoration. They weren't there yet, but they were coming close. The possibility was terrifying and exciting all at once, and I refused to consider what it might mean. I refused to name it.

And then she looked down, and the brief, but intense connection lessened.

Edward, she thought, and the deliciousness of her tone slid down my spine. His name is Edward Cullen. He doesn't date? He's not taken! No one is good-looking enough for him? Wow, that sounds like a clear case of sour grapes. I wonder when he turned you down, Jessica.

That's my girl, I thought smugly. Very perceptive, Bella. I was so relieved that she was able to see through Jessica Stanley's vituperous commentary that I had to look away and smile.

Wow, she's really bitter, Bella thought and I could hear the amusement in her tone. Looks like he's smiling, too.

Her thoughts were quiet, unusually quiet then, and when I listened harder, I heard nothing at all. It was very strange. Few people in this world had thoughts that were quiet for any length of time, and it was usually the spiritual masters and gurus who'd been able to master the art of taming their thoughts. Could it be that she had this knack, or was there something wrong with me? Strange, but certainly not the most strange occurrence of the day.

"Shall we?" Rosalie murmured, and as we all rose to leave, picking up our props as we went, I could hear her again.

So graceful. Wow, even the big brawny one, Emmett, is incredibly graceful. It's almost unnerving. The boy named Edward – not even a glance. I heard her mental sigh, and it was all I could do to stare straight ahead and not look over and smile at her. That would never do. I really ought to keep my distance. Yes, I will keep my distance, of course. As I always do. Situation normal.

But even though we left the room, even though I returned to my locker to retrieve my biology props, my attention was with Bella, still in the cafeteria.

What's the time? Should I linger a bit longer? I suppose I ought to. Charlie would be so proud; look at me, attempting to make friends. What are these people's names, again? Jessica. I remember Jessica. And the rest… is a blur. But I really don't want to be late for class on my first day. Not a good impression, or a good trend.

Oh, good. Time to go, everyone's going. Next class, next class, biology. Angela. So glad she reminded me of her name. She has Biology II, too?

Biology II? My Biology II? Biology II with only one open seat, conveniently located at my lab table? I sat down at said lab table and per usual allowed my props to carelessly flood over the table. See? Edward Cullen: not a meticulous vampire, a sloppy teenager.

Great – she seems really nice. Wow, silence. That's a first, and welcome, too. I guess she's shy, like me. Oh, I really like her.

Okay, this is Biology II. Mr. Banner. I wonder if I'll be able to sit with Angela. That would be so great. I hope, I hope, aw, shucks. She's already got a lab partner. Oh, no, does everyone have a lab partner? Welcome to my purgatory. One more strike against Forks. Every table is—Oh, God. Beautiful, messy, bronze hair. Edward Cullen, and the one open seat, next to him. Oh, okay. Breathe, Bella. Teacher, first.

The door to the room was at the back, and so was my lab table. She walked right by me, and dear God, she smelled good. Her blood smelled as good as always, but she smelled good, like lavender and freesia. Without even thinking, I took a sudden, deep breath, and looked at Bella. She was looking at me. I saw my face in her mind – she found me deliciously handsome up close, and I have to admit that the feeling was mutual. She blushed, though, and my throat began to burn… and at this point Bella proceeded to trip over nothing. I had to keep myself in my seat, and it was difficult. My instinct was to reach out and catch her, but she caught herself.

The girl across the aisle from me giggled at Bella's clumsiness, and my gaze shifted sharply to glare at the stupid twit and her rudeness. She saw me and her face quickly shifted to one of fear before she looked back down to her notebook.

His eyes are black, Bella thought. Coal black.

Bella continued on to the teacher's desk without incident. "Hi, I'm Bella Swan," she murmured to the teacher, handing over the same familiar sheet of paper that all new transfers had to have signed by each teacher.

Biology textbook. Signed sheet. And? Yes! No nonsense about introductions. I can tell we are going to get along just fine, Mr. Banner. Oh, and hm, he has no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room back there. Eyes down. Don't stare. He looks at me like he's curious, like he's frustrated, like he's somehow interested in me, which makes no sense whatsoever. Beautiful, perfect, fascinating boys like him just aren't interested in plain, boring girls like me.

Plain? Boring? What? Where? Surely she couldn't be so unaware of herself as to think that she was plain? She was a very beautiful young woman. Clear, lovely features in a well-balanced heart-shaped face. Deep, wide, chocolate-brown eyes. Beautiful thick brown hair. Captivating smell. Alluring figure. A gentle, husky voice. Small, delicate hands. A kind, compassionate, unassuming way about her. The most interesting human mind I'd ever heard. If Rosalie was a shallow pool, and Emmett a clear lake, the Bella was certainly the patch of ocean with the Great Barrier Reef – endlessly fascinating and entrancing. I knew I did not yet know her well, her likes and dislikes, her talents and dreams, but still I would never call her boring. She was the most interesting thing I'd come across in the last fifty years. Possibly the most interesting thing I'd come across in the entirety of my existence.

Bella Swan was anything but plain and boring. She was as beautiful and startling as the sun at midnight.

She set her textbook down on the table and took her seat without looking at me. That would not do. I had somehow forgotten about my decision to ignore her. It was a silly decision anyway, I'd later conclude; I had based it on an absence of quality information and experience.

I shifted my body ever so slightly, angling it toward her as I leaned my weight on my elbow opposite her as it rested on the table. I was staring at her intently when she looked up. The smile that slowly curved up the corner of my lip was completely involuntary. She was lovely. I couldn't help it.

Her eyes went wide and I could hear her heart rate increase, but the smell of her blood was almost negligible. Well, no, that was Carlisle's level and I was not yet there. If her blood spilt in front of me, I would still be hard pressed to maintain my seat, much less my countenance, but it was like experiencing the Siren's call with ears full of wax. I knew it was delicious, for it smelled very good and I suppose if I focused on it, I wouldn't have to take much time to work myself up into a state. But rather, with the wax in my ears I was finally able to admire my siren for her beauty, instead of letting her voice lead me to my doom. For the first time ever, the smell of human blood held no fascination for me.

Oh! Edward! The tenor of her thoughts was so savory. I smiled a little wider.

"Hello," I said softly to her, as if I was afraid of scaring her off, as if I was afraid that if I spoke too loudly the delicious unfamiliar curling in the pit of my stomach would somehow disappear. "I'm Edward Cullen," I said, introducing myself. It was a necessary conversation opener, as she didn't know what I knew.

Uh… Oh… Uh… Wow. He's… Uh… Gosh.

"Bella Swan," she said just as softly, breathing it out.

I smiled even wider. I was feeling giddy. "It's very nice to meet you, Bella Swan. Welcome to Washington," I said, my voice getting softer and softer. I only wanted her to hear.

Oh my god. Want. Want. Want. I've never wanted a boy like I want this one. I wasn't aware you could want a boy as bad as I want this one. What am I saying? He's not a boy, he's a Greek god.

I looked down at the table before me, fully smiling yet bashful, a soft snort of laughter escaping.

Oh my god, he's beautiful. It's not fair for one person to be this breathtakingly beautiful. He's so beautiful it hurts. I don't think I'm breathing… Breathe, breathe, breathe.

True to form, she did start breathing again, and I looked back at her, up from under my lashes. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face, though.

"So, Bella, are you enjoying your stay in Forks so far?" I'd gotten the distinct impression that this town wasn't her favorite, but I wanted to keep her talking. I didn't want this to end, and if I couldn't address her views on my beauty, then small talk would suffice. Besides, I wanted to know more about her impressions of this little rainy town.

Oh… It's going to be much better than I anticipated, if you keep talking to me, Edward Cullen.

I have no intentions of stopping, Bella Swan.

"Um, it's looking up," she said earnestly and finally, finally, she smiled at me. O, blessed, wonderful Universe! If Bella Swan could smile at me, it might just be possible that God hadn't forsaken me after all.

"Well, that's something."

"Yea," she said. "I heard that you were new, too. I mean, your family. Your family… was new."

Oh, excellent Bella. Admit your obsession. Shoot!

I couldn't stop smiling. It just wasn't possible. "Not as new as you are," I responded in a sing-song voice.

His eyes dance when he smiles like that. He's being so nice to me. Wow, I never imagined that this was waiting for me in Forks. Not that I think Edward Cullen was just sitting around, bored with life until I showed up.

Oh, Bella, how you've hit the nail on the head, I thought.

I mean, what am I saying? He's just being nice. Everyone is trying to be nice to me today; he's no different. It's not like he's flirting with me, or something. It's not like he's interested in me.

Her thoughts shifted as Mr. Banner brought our class to its beginning, and I turned my head back toward my props, but I never shifted my body away from the lovely Bella. I knew what we were studying and paid little attention except to the fact that it was a lecture day, so we would not be working with our partners. Sad news, indeed.

Oh, cellular anatomy. Been there, done that. Better take good notes, anyway, though.

And she did. She took excellent notes. I did not. I already had two medical degrees, and so far Mr. Banner's mind hadn't impressed me as being particularly creative or interesting. If I were able to sleep, I'd be able to take his exams while doing so. Instead, I was idly sketching while I listened to her concentrate on the lesson. She seemed to have excellent recall of what she'd learned previously on the subject, and she was constantly comparing the two, analyzing what she might have missed the first time around, wondering at little inconsistencies. It seemed that Bella was quite bright, though I wasn't surprised. That anyone as wonderful as she could be anything other than brilliant didn't seem to be in the natural order of things.

Part way through the lesson a line of melody came to me, and I didn't stop to wonder that it had been a few decades since I'd last composed. It seemed to complement her inner thought tone more than her actual voice. It was soft and gentle, but fascinating with a complex twist in the middle. It could be a lullaby, I mused, or a nocturne. Yes, a nocturne. I let the melody twist and twirl around her ongoing commentary on cellular anatomy. The complexities flourished each time she darted a little glance at me, at my sketch, which I realized belatedly was a study of her eyes, her hands, the fall of her hair, and the graceful lines of a swan.

Wow, he didn't take any notes at all. Maybe he doesn't need to. I suppose I didn't really have to, not this time, but oh well. He draws beautifully, though.

"You draw very well," she said at the end of class, as everyone around us began to pack up their things. I could tell that Mike Newton had his eyes on us, but I didn't pay his mind any attention.

"You think so?" I asked, quickly glancing up at her with a little half smile, before looking back down to title my page of sketches. "Well, I had suitably inspiring subject."

'the beautiful Bella Swan' is what I wrote at the bottom, before efficiently tearing the page out of my journal and laying it on top of her still open notebook.

The beautiful Bella Swan…? I could hear her heartbeat race. He thinks I'm beautiful? The beautiful boy thinks I'm beautiful?

"May I walk you to your next class, Bella?"

He wants to walk me to my –oh, no. Gym. Please, God, please, don't let the perfect, graceful boy who maybe likes me be in my gym class. Please don't do that to me, God. She really sounded panicked.

I couldn't let her wonder. "I'm on my way to Spanish, but I'd still like to walk you to your next class, if you'll allow it."

"Oh, you don't have to," she started, shifting out of her chair and grabbing her book bag. She started to stuff it full of her things, but had to edge closer to me after she got pushed out of the aisle by our classmates wanting to leave. I slid off my lab stool and scooped up my props in one motion, leaving me standing very, very close to her. She was still babbling on. "I mean, I don't want you to go to any trouble-"

"It is no trouble, Bella," I said, interrupting her stream of words. "Quite the opposite. It would be my pleasure."

She paused in the midst of zipping up her bag to look up at me, and there it was again; the wordless vision of me standing before her, graceful and beautiful, wrapped in a haze of adoration.

It would be his pleasure. He speaks so beautifully, so eloquently. No one else speaks like that. It's… it's so clear that… he means it. He's so wonderful, she concluded.

"Okay," she breathed.

I smiled. "Thank you." I shifted slightly closer to her, and it sent her mind into a delightful turmoil before she stepped away and into the aisle to leave.

Holy Crow, he smells good! Oh, wow. Oh my gosh, my mouth is watering.

We walked in silence out of the classroom. My name was on everyone's mind as they noticed my attention to Bella. It was like the little world of Forks High had ground to a halt. This was sure to spread like wildfire. Edward Cullen had woken up. The untouchable Edward Cullen had a crush.

"My next class gym," she offered.

"Do you need to stop at your locker, first?"

Gym clothes! Shoot. Knew I forgot something. Well, first day and all. Hopefully the teacher will be merciful. "Um, no. I'm fine. So, are there gym uniforms here, or is it just, you know, sport casual?"

"Uniforms," I replied. "And charming they are, too."

She laughed.

I said nothing else, but instead listened to the pleasant hum of her nebulous, wordless, impressionistic thoughts. They wrapped around me like a soft cashmere scarf. They were mostly centered on me, my proximity to her, her fervent desire to hold my hand, and her increasing confidence that I might have some smidgeon of interest in her.

It's so nice to just be with him, she thought on a sigh.

I feel the same way, I thought.

We arrived at the gymnasium far too quickly for my liking. I could have strolled along with her for hours, wrapped in her thoughts.

Oh. The gym. We're here. "Thank you for showing me to the gym," she said, stopping and turning to face me. Her fingers were tangling themselves and untangling themselves in a loose strap that dangled from her shoulder. She was adorable. I wonder when I'll see him again. I suppose I'll have to wait 'til lunch, tomorrow. Why does that seem so far away? But oh my gosh, it must be getting late.

"You should go – I mean," she corrected herself, "I don't want you to be late for your class."

"La senora is very forgiving," I pointed out, and mentioned nothing about the fact that we both knew which one of us could pass as a native Castilian, Argentinean, Cuban, or Peruvian, and it wasn't the one at the front of the class. I was still working on my Chilean accent and idiom, but it was next. I had forty-five more seconds until the bell rang, however, and I was going to make the most of it. I leaned against the side of the building and smiled at Bella.

"It was very nice to meet you, Bella Swan. I hope we'll have an opportunity for further conversation. I would really like to know you better."

"I'd like that," she responded. I'd really, really like that.

"Would you like to go for a walk this evening? After dinner?"

Oh, my god, yes! "Sure, that'd be really nice. Um, when…" she trailed off, but I already had my journal open and was writing down my cell phone number for her. I tore out that page, too.

"Call me when you get done with dinner. I don't think I live very far from you."

And then the bell rang. Beautiful timing, really.

She looked up and around, startled out of her pleasant, wordless thoughts. "Oh! Oh my gosh, you're going to be late. Okay." She smiled again at me. "Thank you. I'll… see you this evening, then."

"This evening." I resisted the urge to take her hand and bow over it, or better yet, kiss it. Instead I turned around and walked slowly away from her, listening to her thoughts.

Ho-ly Crow! I have a date with the most beautiful, wonderful, charming guy in the whole world.

I walked all the way to Spanish quite quickly with the lack of witnesses, but not so quickly as to seem unusual. I slid into my seat next to Emmett, still focused on her thoughts. It was harder – her thoughts really did seem to be softer and more occluded than everyone else's, and from this distance it was much more difficult to hear hers than it ought to be, but I managed to get the gist of her clearest thoughts. She was relieved that she wouldn't have to participate today, and only had to sit on the sidelines. She was thinking of me.

EDWARD! I heard Emmett shout quite loudly in his thoughts. Had he been speaking? I raised one eyebrow and tilted my head toward him slightly, turning a page in the useless textbook in front of me.

What's the dish on you and the new girl, huh? What's his face up there was saying that you've got a crush on her!

I looked down at the text book and smiled broadly.

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