Chapter 3: the van
Something was different when I opened my eyes the next morning. The light pouring in through my bedroom windows was still the greenish-gray color of a cloudy day in the forest; but, it was clearer somehow. It took me a moment to realize that there was no fog veiling my window. It seemed warmer, in feeling if not in temperature, and excitement filled me.
Jumping out of bed to look out the window, my excitement waned immediately; a groan escaped me in horror.
The yard was covered in a fine layer of snow, dusting the top of my truck; whitening the road. Had that been the only touch of bad news, I might not have sighed to myself, but all the rain from yesterday had frozen solid. Coating the needles of the trees in fantastic, gorgeous, patterns, my appreciation of such beauty was dampened by the driveway having become a deadly slick of ice.
I had enough trouble walking without tripping when the ground was dry – much less when it was slippery by design. My mouth curled; it might be safer to just crawl back into bed and pretend to be sick.
The idea of being seen as a coward suddenly bothered me, and I left the window to face the day. Meticulously looking over what clothes I had for what would be the safest and warmest things I could wear against the ice. A dark green sweater and jeans would have to do.
Charlie must have left for work before I finished getting ready, as the house was eerily dark and quiet. In many ways, living with Charlie was like having my own place. He was gone before I left for school, gone when I returned, and I found myself reveling in the solitude instead of feeling lonely. My mom was like a gnat, she was always there, and while I loved my mom very much – she didn't understand the concept of personal space.
The idea of going to school excited me, even as it scared me. Barely eating a bowl of Raisin Bran and a glass of orange juice without feeling my mouth creep into a smile, I knew my excitement had nothing to do with the stimulating learning environment. Even the thought that I had school-friends didn't bring that burst of life I felt. If I was being wholly honest with myself, I knew I was eager to get to school because I might see Edward Cullen. Which was very, very, stupid – we were barely friends! It didn't make sense that his name made me happy when it crossed my mind.
His eyes, shifting between black and antagonistic to gold and intrigued, flooded my chest with a strange burst of life. Each nuance of his expressions, the way his eyebrows furrowed when he asked me questions, was a fluttery stone in my stomach. Why was he suddenly so interested in me, when a week ago he seemed to hate me?
Cleaning up my dishes and grabbing my bag, I tried not to think about him. His eyes kept reappearing in my head. Bronze locks of barely tamed hair overshadowing his pale skin and defined cheekbones. Really, I should be avoiding him entirely after my brainless and embarrassing babbling yesterday. I still felt suspicious of him, too. Why would he lie about his eyes? The difference was too obvious for me to ignore, did he want me to pretend I was stupid?
Fear still clutched inside me when I remembered the hostility in his eyes, the vehemence that I still felt emanating from him. But that didn't stop me from feeling my tongue swell when I thought about his perfect face.
Edward was a perfect person to me, his family was wealthy, had the nicest cars and clothes, his father a talented surgeon who had chosen him on purpose to adopt as far as I knew. He was in a league I couldn't touch, with a loud and blaring old truck that made everyone in the parking lot dread when I pulled out.
His face, raised in laughter at me, haunted me. It wasn't cruel, a laugh to hurt me on purpose; but, still it stung inside my chest.
Why did he even want to be my friend? Maybe it was a fluke, and he was just being kind to me because I'm his lab partner. The thought hurt me more than I was comfortable admitting to myself. There wasn't a reason to be anxious about seeing him if he was just being nice to me.
It took every ounce of concentration to make it down the icy brick driveway without slipping and knocking my head into the ice. Very nearly falling three times before I finally got to the Beast and held onto my truck's side mirror to save myself.
Great, if all the ground was a giant ice cube, today was going to be hell.
Driving to school with the radio on, to try and distract myself from my terror of falling and embarrassing myself, my mind slipped to Erica and McKayla. I couldn't deny it anymore, girls treated me a lot different here than in Phoenix. Surely I was the same as I was back in Phoenix, and no one had been impressed by me there. Maybe it was just that the girls back home had watched me pass slowly through all those awkward phases of adolescence and they still saw me that way? Perhaps it was because I was a novelty here, where novelties were few and far between. Maybe my crippling clumsiness was seen as endearing rather than pathetic; casting me as a cute nerdy guy or something?
Whatever the reason, Mckayla's puppy dog behavior and Erica's apparent rivalry with her were disconcerting. I wasn't sure if I didn't prefer being ignored. As nice as it was to have friends, it didn't seem like Erica or McKayla wanted to be 'just friends' with me. Maybe I was reading too much into them. While I drove, the Beast seemed to have no problem with the black ice covering the roads. Even so, I drove very slowly, not wanting to carve a path of destruction through main street.
When I got out of my truck at school, something silver caught my eye, and I saw why I'd had such little trouble with the ice. Carefully holding the side of the Beast for support, I walked to the back of my truck to examine my tires. There were thin chains crisscrossed in diamond shapes wrapped around them. Charlie must have gotten up God knew how early to put snow chains on my truck. My throat suddenly felt tight. I wasn't used to being so well taken care of, and Charlie's unspoken concern caught me by surprise.
Struggling to fight back the sudden wave of emotion that the snow chains had brought on, I was still standing by the back corner of the truck when I heard a really strange sound…
It was a high-pitched scream, and it was fast becoming painfully loud. I looked up, startled.
Several things simultaneously happened. Nothing was moving in slow motion, the way it does in the movies. Instead, the adrenaline rush seemed to make my brain work much faster, and I was able to absorb in clear detail several things at once.
Edward Cullen had been standing four cars from me, in absolute horror. His face stood out from the sea of faces staring at me, all frozen in the same mask of shock. Of more immediate importance, however, was the dark blue van that was skidding – tires locked and squealing against the breaks – spinning rapidly across the ice covering the parking lot. The blue van was going to hit the back corner of my truck, and I was standing directly between them.
I didn't even have time to close my eyes.
Just before I heard the shattering crunch of the van folding around the truck bed, something hit me – hard. Just, not from the direction I was expecting. My head cracked against the icy blacktop, and I felt something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I was lying on the pavement behind the tan car I'd parked next to; but, I didn't have a chance to notice anything else, because the van was still coming for me. It had curled gratingly around the end of my truck, and, still spinning and sliding – was about to collapse with me again.
A low oath made me aware that someone was with me, and the voice was impossible not to recognize. Two long, white, hands shot out protectively in front of me. Two perfectly shaped hands fitting providentially into a deep dent in the side of the dark blue van's body, and the van shuddered to a stop a foot from my face.
Edward's hands moved so fast that they blurred – one was suddenly gripping under the body of the van, and something was dragging me – swinging my legs around like a rag doll, til they hit the tire of the tan car. A groaning, metallic, thud hurt my ears and the van settled – glass popping – onto the asphalt.
Exactly where, a second ago, my legs had been. It was absolutely silent for one long second before the screaming began. In an abrupt bedlam, I could hear more than one person shouting my name. But more clearly than all the yelling, I could hear Edward Cullen's low, frantic, voice in my ear.
"Beau? Are you alright?" He asked over and over, and I just drank in the sound of his velvet voice before I realized this wasn't a horrible dream – I had narrowly escaped death.
"I'm fine," my voice sounded so strange. Trying to sit up, I realized Edward was holding me against the side of his body with an iron grasp.
Everything felt warm, even though he was so cold. Edward was protecting me, he wanted me safe, he wanted to be close to me; nothing else mattered to me for that little moment.
"Please be more careful," he warned as I weakly struggled against his grasp to get more comfortable. "I think you've hit your head pretty hard."
At his words, I became aware of a throbbing ache centered above my left ear. As if his voice had turned my nerves back on, and I could feel the pain of where I had hit the ground.
"Ouch," I whispered, surprised as I tried to touch behind my ear.
"That's what I thought," he said, his voice warm and bemused, as though he was trying not to laugh at me.
"How..." I trailed off, trying to clear my head and process all I saw. "How did you get over here so fast?"
Suddenly Edward's voice was serious. "What do you mean? I was standing right next to you, Beau."
Trying to sit up again, this time Edward let me, and with some sadness in my chest he released his hold around my waist and slid as far from me as he could in the limited space between me and the tan car. I looked at him, concern in my naive expression, and I found myself disoriented by the force of his golden-colored eyes. What was I even asking him?
"No...I saw you...over there..." I weakly pointed, but it didn't matter then.
That was when they found us, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other – shouting at us.
"Don't move," someone instructed, their voice sounding much older than myself.
"Get Taylor out of the van!" Someone else shouted.
There was a flurry of activity around us. I tried to get up; but, Edward's cold, slender, hand pushed my shoulder down so I stayed on the asphalt.
"Please stay down," Edward beckoned, and I let my body rest there.
"But, it's cold," the comment left me before I could think about it, and it surprised me when I saw Edward chuckle under his breath. There was an edge to the sound, like electricity rushed through me when I heard it.
My mind hadn't lied to me, though, I knew Edward had been four cars away when Taylor's van came toward me. Even though my head hurt too much to demand answers from him right now, his face looked, like he was hoping I wouldn't notice how fast he moved; how his hands had blurred to move me and stop the van.
I felt like if I asked him more, with all these people nearby, he would just deny the truth again. Or he might get mad and leave me here alone on the icy ground. Reaching out for his hand, he moved his away, and I knew something was wrong. I wanted him to keep holding my hand too much, and maybe he saw that and felt disgusted with me. Some pathetic deer that needed to be held and coddled in stressful situations – which was never me before...I don't know why I wanted it so badly.
I could hear the sirens now.
It took six EMTs and two teachers – Mr. Varner and Coach Clapp – to shift the van far enough away from us to bring the stretchers in. Edward vehemently refused to lay on a stretcher, and I tried to do the same, but Edward told them I'd hit my head and probably had a concussion. I almost died of humiliation when they put me in a neck brace.
It looked like the entire school was there – watching soberly as they loaded me and Taylor into the back of an ambulance. For some reason Edward got to ride in the front, and it was maddening. To make matters worse, the school must have called Charlie, as Chief Swan arrived before they could get me safely into the ambulance.
"Beau!" Charlie yelled in panic as soon as he recognized me on the stretcher.
For some reason, this made it so much worse, and I wished I could really have died right then than to have had to see that worry on his face. His eyes were so hurt and frazzled; it crushed me to see him so worried about me. I'd never seen him more worried in my life.
"Beau, I'm here, what happened?!"
"Dad, I'm okay," I weakly began to say, but the closest EMT recognized him as my father and they began to talk. My father demanded to know what had happened while they closed me in the ambulance, and as I couldn't defend myself right now, I just focused on the inexplicable images churning chaotically in my head.
When I had been lifted up in the stretcher, I saw the deep dent in the tan car's bumper – a very distinct dent that fit the contours of Edward's shoulders...as if he had braced himself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame of the tan car…
And then there was his family, looking on from the distance, with expressions that ranged from disapproval to fury. Their eyes held no hint of concern for their brother's safety, the only thing close to worry was what I saw in Alice's face as Edward followed my stretcher toward the Ambulance. She seemed concerned, but not about him, like for some reason she was upset with her brother.
During the ride, I tried desperately to think of a logical solution that could explain what I had just seen – a solution that excluded the assumption that I had a concussion and this was all in my head. Naturally, the ambulance got a police escort to the county hospital, and I felt embarrassed and ridiculous the whole time they were unloading me. What made it worse is that Edward simply glided through the hospital doors with his normal gracefulness without anyone making him wear a neck-brace of shame or ride in a humiliating stretcher. My teeth ground together, it must be the perks of being so strangely ethereal, which didn't seem fair in the slightest.
They brought me into one of the emergency rooms, a long room with a line of beds separated by pastel-patterned curtains. A nurse put a pressure cuff on my arm, and a thermometer under my tongue. Since no one bothered pulling the curtain around to give me some privacy, the shame of wearing the neck brace grew to be too overwhelming. As soon as the nurse walked away, I quickly unfastened the Velcro holding the brace around my neck and tossed it under the bed.
There was another flurry of hospital personnel, another stretcher brought to the bed next to me, and I recognized Taylor Crowley from my Government class beneath the bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around her head. Taylor looked a hundred times worse than I felt; but, she was staring wide eyed and anxious at me.
"Beau, I'm so sorry!"
She was so genuine, so remorseful, and for some reason I felt guilt at her worry over me. "I'm okay, Taylor – you look awful though, are you alright?"
Waiting for an answer, nurses began unwinding her soiled bandages, exposing a myriad of shallow slices all over her forehead and left cheek.
She ignored me. "I – I thought I was g-going to kill you, Beau! I was g-going so fast, and I hit the ice wrong…" She winced as one of the nurses started dabbing at her face.
"Don't worry about it – you missed me, and I'm okay."
"H-How did you get out of the way? You were right there – the car came right for you..."
Her shock at how I was okay shattered any illusions I had that I had made up what I saw. "Edward pulled me out of the way."
She looked so confused. "Who?"
"Edward, Edward Cullen? He was standing right next to me," I'd never been a very good liar, but she seemed to have been convinced.
"Really? Wow, I didn't see him...It was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay?"
"I think so," I paused to try and give a reassuring smile. "He's here somewhere – they didn't make him use a stretcher."
Deep down, I knew I hadn't been crazy – I hadn't gotten a concussion. What had happened then? There was no logical way to explain away what I'd seen.
While they tended to Taylor, nurses came and wheeled me away to X-ray my head. I insisted that I'd probably only gotten a bruise; but, they said it was protocol. When the test was over, I sighed inwardly, because I was right. There wasn't a concussion, and I asked the nurse if I could leave.
"You have to talk with the Doctor before we can release you," she said, and realizing I was trapped in the ER, harassed by Taylor's incessant apologies and promises to make it up to me, I laid down on the bed and tried to sleep. No sleep came, and no matter how many times I tried to convince Taylor that I was fine, she continued to torment herself.
Finally, I just closed my eyes and ignored her remorseful mumbling. Pretending to sleep, even as my mind was too restless to sleep. Edward had somehow saved me, I know he did. He had, for a short time, held me and worried about me. Why? How? He had been too far to run and stop the van, and yet...he had.
"Is he sleeping?" A musical voice asked, and my eyes flew open. Edward was standing at the foot of my bed, worry in his eyes, a playful smirk on his face.
I wasn't sure if I was glaring or ogling at him – it was hard to be angry at Edward for escaping being humiliated on a stretcher. He did look to be okay, as perfect as he always seemed to be.
"Hey, Edward, I'm really sorry-" Taylor began, but Edward lifted a hand to stop her.
"No blood, no foul," he said, flashing his brilliant teeth. "I think the cars got dented more than we did," he said with such playful sincerity that Taylor seemed to finally stop apologizing.
Edward approached me, closing the curtain between my bed and Taylor's, and feeling somewhat alone with him, I both relaxed and tensed. He must have sensed the way my stomach curled, because he stayed at the foot of the bed, out of arms length.
"So, what's the verdict?" He asked me, concern in his gaze, the humor almost gone from his lips.
"There's nothing wrong with my head, but I have to talk to the Doctor before they'll let me go..." I confessed, not able to lie to him, for whatever reason. "How come you aren't strapped to a gurney, too?"
"My father's rather important here," Edward said with playful amusement. "But don't worry about me, I'm quite alright. Besides, I came to free you."
As if on queue, a doctor walked around the corner, and my mouth fell open. The man was young, blond, and more handsome than any movie star I'd ever seen. He was pale, tired-looking, with circles under his eyes. Assuming from Charlie's description – this had to be Edward's father! He couldn't have been older than his early thirties, and that was being kind to add years to his face.
Edward moved, to let his father look at me.
"So, Mr. Swan," Dr. Cullen said in a remarkably angelic voice. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," I said, hopefully for the last time today. He walked to the light-board on the wall over my head and turned it on, considering the image with a quiet hum.
"Hmm, your X-rays look good," he mentioned. "Does your head hurt? Edward mentioned that you hit your head rather hard earlier."
Worry contorted my face, and I felt my mouth curl into a mild scowl. Why would Edward keep insisting I hurt my head so much? Was he trying to hide something?
"It's alright," I added with a soft sigh.
Not convinced, Dr. Cullen moved his cool doctor's hand close to my head, moving his fingers to lightly probe behind my ear. He noticed when I winced.
"Tender?" He asked.
"A little," I replied. I'd had a lot worse than this in my life, this kind of stinging didn't really bother me.
"Well, that's normal, you have some bruising – it should clear up in a couple of days," Dr. Cullen mentioned, then flashed me an almost debonair smile that made me feel like I was in a soap opera Hospital show than in Forks, WA.
"Well, your father is in the waiting room, when you're ready, you can find him around the corner and down the hall on your left," he paused. "Get plenty of rest, and if you feel any unexpected dizziness or trouble with your eyesight, come back right away. Your father has my number."
Get plenty of rest? What did that mean?
"Oh, I thought I would just go back to school..."
My eyes darted to Edward, but he wasn't there anymore. Pain filled me, both at the idea of Charlie trying to take care of me when I was fine, and of missing out on an entire school-day where I might be near Edward more.
"Maybe you should take it easy today, Beau, just in case you develop more symptoms," Dr. Cullen insisted, and I felt my eyes well up.
"I'm fine, really, I don't want to miss school-" I insisted, and saw the curtain move ever so slightly.
Edward was standing at the far foot of the bed beside his father, his hand had moved the curtain to look at my face, probably because my voice was wavering and pathetic. I sounded like I was about to blubber, and if I was being honest with myself I probably looked like I was going to cry, too.
He seemed confused, pained even, and I didn't understand his expression. "My father is a very skilled Doctor, Mr. Swan, please listen to him."
He entreated with such concern that it felt like a hand squeezed my stomach, but I couldn't bring myself to promise I wouldn't go. I could only nod, and wince from the pain shooting through my skull.
"Are you going to school, though?"
I found myself unable to look away from his gold eyes as he watched me nervously nibble on my lip. He was almost smug as he cockily tilted his head at me. "Someone has to spread the news that we survived, right?"
Dr. Cullen cleared his throat, but I could swear it sounded like a chuckle. "Actually, I think the entire school seems to be out in the waiting room."
"Oh no..." I whispered as I got up – too fast. I staggered, and Dr. Cullen caught me with concern in his gaze.
I realized his concerned eyes were also Gold, which seemed strange to me. Weren't Edward and his siblings all – adopted – by him and his wife?
"I – I'm okay," I assured the doctor. No need to tell him my balance problems had nothing to do with hitting my head.
"Take some Tylenol for the pain," he insisted as he helped to steady me.
"It really doesn't hurt that bad, but I will," I tried to reassure.
Dr. Cullen smiled, signing my chart with an unearthly flourish as he looked to me. "It sounds like you were extremely lucky, Mr. Swan."
My eyes drifted to Edward, who had moved away from the foot of my bed, and was avoiding looking at me for some reason. Maybe because I was wearing a medical robe and it was rude to stare.
"Lucky Edward happened to be standing next to me," I amended, my eyes hardening as I studied Edward's face. He didn't look like how a hero would boast, he looked like he was hoping his father wouldn't have heard what I said.
"Oh," Dr. Cullen began, looking at his son. "Well, of course," he agreed, suddenly very occupied with my sheet as he turned away from me and shot a glance I couldn't see at Edward.
After that, Dr. Cullen moved to focus on Taylor, and Edward started to walk away. I knew he'd leave if I didn't say something, so I moved with one hand holding my hospital gown behind me for modesty to reach his side. "Wait..."
"Yes?" He asked, confused as to why I had stopped him from leaving.
"Can I...talk to you for a minute?"
Edward took a step away from me, and for some reason his jaw suddenly clenched as if he was irritated.
"Your father is waiting for you," he almost seemed to demand, as if he just wanted me gone from the hospital. I glanced at Dr. Cullen and Taylor, they both didn't seem to be listening to us.
"Please – just give me a minute…" I asked, and he almost glared at me. His change in demeanor struck me, like he'd stabbed something in my arm, and he gave me the faintest of nods before he walked out of the room.
After I dressed behind the curtain, grabbing my bag, I walked outside the emergency room – half afraid that he would have just ditched me in there – but he was waiting at the end of the corner into a shorter hallway.
Joining him, I followed him into the tiny hallway before he spun around to face me.
"What is it?" He asked, sounding annoyed. His eyes were so cold, his sudden lack of concern or care intimidated me.
Caught so off guard, my words fell out of me like a bumbling waterfall. "You weren't by the car, earlier."
His eyes were daggers for me. "Yes, I was," he seethed like a venomous viper.
Taylor's worry from earlier flooded into my mind, along with the images of his shoulders making a dent in the tan car. "No, you weren't. I saw you by your Volvo."
"I was walking -toward- you, Beau, I wasn't – that – far away," he insisted, but I could swear there was panic in his eyes. Panic he was trying to disguise as hatred, and to be honest I wasn't sure if I was imagining the panic and he really was finding me an annoying person.
"Why were you walking to me, then?"
Edward froze, stunned momentarily by my question. The hatred left his eyes, only for a moment, before he narrowed his eyes and looked utterly disgusted at me. "What does it matter? I saved your life – most people would be grateful for that."
"I didn't say I wasn't thankful-" I tried to combat, but he interrupted me, already starting to move around me.
"What do you -want- from me, Beau."
The loathing in his voice hurt me, tore me, and I froze. I didn't know what to say, how to even formulate something that even sounded rational to me.
When I couldn't answer, Edward shirked past me.
"Go home, rest your head," he said before walking down the hallway as fast and as gracefully as he always did.
Feeling like a complete idiot, I watched him go; but, I couldn't bring myself to leave the tiny hallway for another ten minutes at least.
He hated me, that's what his words felt like. He probably thought I was some kind of worm he had to be nice to, something that would break into a hundred pieces unless someone held me by the hand and made sure I didn't die. Given my track record of trips and breaking bones, that thought wouldn't have been entirely wrong.
I couldn't believe I had just frozen up like that! What kind of backbone did I have! He did – something – to be able to save me. Taylor hadn't seen him, so I hadn't been making it up. The van should have hit me, it could have even killed me if not for Edward going out of his way to save me.
I was so angry at myself that I could feel the anger tears well up inside me. I tried desperately to force them back by grinding my teeth together; but, with no one watching me and no one seeming to even use this hallway, I faced the end of the hallway and hid my face behind my hand. I wasn't stupid! He had lifted the van! Even if I didn't know how he did it, he'd done it!
What I thought barely mattered in that moment, everything in my head lashed out at me. All I could picture was Edward's spiteful, disgusted, snarl as he looked at me. The way he shirked past me and walked away like I was a thorn in his side.
Mostly, I hated that I had become one of those sensitive guys who cried when they were rejected. I'd never cried when I lost friends before – I couldn't really understand why it hurt so much right now.
It took me ten minutes of trying desperately not to wail like a dying animal until the hot tears stopped balling down my face. When the anguish left me enough that I thought I could fake that the tears had never happened.
When I could walk again, I made my way slowly to the exit at the end of the hallway – praying to myself that Edward wouldn't be there to glare at me in the waiting room when I entered. Unfortunately, the waiting room in question was more unpleasant than I'd feared, but not because Edward was there.
It seemed like every face I knew well in Forks was there – staring at me. All of them looking at my dry, puffy, eyes, messed up hair, and horrified expression.
Charlie rushed to my side, and I was both relieved and stressed out to see him.
I raised my hands up, fearful that he'd try and coddle me. "I'm okay, Dad," I answered him, trying not to speak with a sullen voice. Not in the mood for chit chat here, in front of all these people.
"What did the doctor say?"
"Dr. Cullen said I was fine, and I could go home," I said with a sigh, really wanting to go home now and hide my humiliated face from Edward for a while.
McKayla, Jeremy, Allen, and Erica were all there – beginning to converge on us, and I couldn't bear to answer any of their questions right now.
"Please, can we just go," I urged.
Charlie put one arm behind my back, not quite touching me, and led me to the glass doors of the exit. Waving with faked enthusiasm to not worry my friends, I followed Charlie out to the parking lot.
For the first time in my life, I was relieved to get into Charlie's police cruiser. We drove in blessed silence, and I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I hardly noticed Charlie was there.
When we got to the house, Charlie finally spoke.
"You...need to call Renee," he said, hanging his head from guilt.
"Y-You told mom!?"
"I'm sorry, Beau-"
Slamming the door of the police cruiser harder than I meant to from anger, I rushed inside to call her on the house phone. Mom was in hysterics when I called, of course. I had to tell her I felt fine at least thirty times before she would calm down. For twenty minutes she begged me to come home.
All while Charlie anxiously sat on the couch with a guilty expression.
Her pleas were easier to resist than I might have thought, even though I'd just been nearly crushed to death. Even when he wanted nothing to do with me, I couldn't bear the idea of leaving Forks. I wanted to know how he saved me, why he seemed to care about me, then hate me all over again. Any normal person would be desperate to escape Forks after what happened, but I wasn't normal – and I had to know the truth of what happened.
Reassuring Charlie I was okay was easy in comparison. He reluctantly went back to work, and I went upstairs to take some Tylenol and try to get some sleep.
For hours I lay in bed, replaying the pathetic conversation with Edward over and over again. The absolute clarity I had in how he had saved me from being crushed by Taylor's blue van. He had saved me, he had been too far away to shove me from danger so fast.
Why do it if he loathed me? If he didn't want to be my friend? When the pain finally eased, and I wasn't tearing up anymore, I drifted off to sleep…
That was the first night I dreamt...of Edward Cullen.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone