I waited until she was gone, and then I put the lid in my pocket - a souvenir of this most consequential conversation - and walked through the rain to my car.
I put on my favorite calming CD - the same one I'd listened to that first day - but I wasn't hearing Debussy's notes for long. Other notes were running through my head, a fragment of a tune that pleased and intrigued me. I turned down the stereo and listened to the music in my head, playing with the fragment until it evolved into a fuller harmony. Instinctively, my fingers moved in the air over imaginary piano keys.
The new composition was really coming along when my attention was caught by a wave of mental anguish.
I looked toward the distress.
Is she going to pass out? What do I do? Mike panicked.
A hundred yards away, Mike Newton was lowering Bella's limp body to the sidewalk. She slumped unresponsively against the wet concrete, her eyes closed, her skin chalky as a corpse.
I almost took the door off the car.
"Bella?" I shouted.
There was no change in her lifeless face when I yelled her name.
My whole body went colder than ice.
I was aware of Mike's aggravated surprise as I sifted furiously through his thoughts. He was only thinking of his anger toward me, so I didn't know what was wrong with Bella. If he'd done something to harm her, I would annihilate him. "What's wrong - is she hurt?" I demanded, trying to focus his thoughts. It was maddening to have to walk at a human pace. I should not have called attention to my approach.
Then I could hear her heart beating and her even breath. As I watched, she squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. That eased some of my panic.
I saw a flicker of memories in Mike's head, a splash of images from the Biology room. Bella's head on our table, her fair skin turning green. Drops of red against the white cards...
Blood typing.
I stopped where I was, holding my breath. Her scent was one thing, her flowing blood was another altogether.
"I think she's fainted," Mike said, anxious and resentful at the same time. "I don't know what happened, she didn't even stick her finger."
Relief washed through me, and I breathed again, tasting the air. Ah, I could smell the tiny flow of Mike Newton's puncture wound. Once, that might have appealed to me. I knelt beside her while Mike hovered next to me, furious at my intervention. "Bella. Can you hear me?"
"No," she moaned. "Go away."
The relief was so exquisite that I laughed. She was fine.
"I was taking her to the nurse," Mike said. "But she wouldn't go any farther." "I'll take her. You can go back to class," I said dismissively.
Mike's teeth clenched together. "No. I'm supposed to do it."
I wasn't going to stand around arguing with the wretch.
Thrilled and terrified, half-grateful to and half-aggrieved by the predicament which made touching her a necessity, I gently lifted Bella from the sidewalk and held her in my arms, touching only her clothes, keeping as much distance between our bodies as possible. I was striding forward in the same movement, in a hurry to have her safe - farther away from me, in other words.
Her eyes popped open, astonished.
"Put me down," she ordered in a weak voice - embarrassed again, I guessed from her expression. She didn't like to show weakness.
I barely heard Mike's shouted protest behind us.
"You look awful," I told her, grinning because there was nothing wrong with her but a light head and a weak stomach.
"Put me back on the sidewalk," she said. Her lips were white.
"So you faint at the sight of blood?" Could it get any more ironic?
She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
"And not even your own blood," I added, my grin widening.
We were to the front office. The door was propped an inch open, and I kicked it out of my way.
Ms. Cope jumped, startled. "Oh, my," she gasped as she examined the ashen girl in my arms.
"She fainted in Biology," I explained, before her imagination could get too out of hand.
Ms. Cope hurried to open the door to the nurse's office. Bella's eyes were open again, watching her. I heard the elderly nurse's internal astonishment as I laid the girl carefully on the one shabby bed. As soon as Bella was out of my arms, I put the width of the room between us. My body was too excited, too eager, my muscles tense and the venom flowing. She was so warm and fragrant.
"She's just a little faint," I reassured Mrs. Hammond. "They're blood typing in biology."
She nodded, understanding now. "There's always one."
I stifled a laugh. Trust Bella to be that one.
"Just lie down for a minute, honey," Mrs. Hammond said. "It'll pass."
"I know," Bella said.
"Does this happen often?" the nurse asked.
"Sometimes," Bella admitted.
I tried to disguise my laughter as coughing.
This brought me to the nurse's attention. "You can go back to class now," she said.
I looked her straight in the eye and lied with perfect confidence. "I'm supposed to stay with her."
Hmm. I wonder... oh well. Mrs. Hammond nodded.
It worked just fine on her. Why did Bella have to be so difficult? "I'll go get you some ice for your forehead, dear," the nurse said, slightly uncomfortable from looking into my eyes - the way a human should be - and left the room.
"You were right," Bella moaned, closing her eyes.
What did she mean? I jumped to the worst conclusion: she'd accepted my warnings.
"I usually am," I said, trying to keep the amusement in my voice; it sounded sour now. "But about what in particular this time?"