Bella started awake, jerking up to a sitting position when the tires of her father's car hit the brick driveway. She stared around herself, seeming confused by the unexpected darkness. For one brief moment, her eyes touched the shadows where I hid, but they flickered quickly away.
"Charlie?" she asked in a low voice, still peering into the trees surrounding the small yard.
The door of his car slammed shut, and she looked to the sound. She got to her feet quickly and gathered her things, casting one more look back toward the woods. I moved into a tree closer to the back window near the small kitchen, and listened to their evening. It was interesting to compare Charlie's words to his muffled thoughts. His love and concern for his only daughter were nearly overwhelming, and yet his words were always terse and casual. Most of the time, they sat in companionable silence.
I heard her discuss her plans for the following evening in Port Angeles, and I refined my own plans as I listened. Jasper had not warned Peter and Charlotte to stay clear of Port Angeles. Though I knew that they had fed recently and had no intention of hunting any where in the vicinity of our home, I would watch her, just in case. After all, there were always others of my kind out there. And then, all those human dangers that I had never much considered before now.
I heard her worry aloud about leaving her father to prepare dinner alone, and smiled at this proof to my theory - yes, she was a care-taker.
And then I left, knowing I would return when she was asleep.
I would not trespass on her privacy the way the peeping tom would have. I was here for her protection, not to leer at her in the way Mike Newton no doubt would, were he agile enough to move through the treetops the way I could. I would not treat her so crassly.
My house was empty when I returned, which was fine by me. I didn't miss the confused or disparaging thoughts, questioning my sanity. Emmett had left a note stuck to the newel post.
Football at the Rainier field - c'mon! Please?
I found a pen and scrawled the word sorry beneath his plea. The teams were even without me, in any case.
I went for the shortest of hunting trips, contenting myself with the smaller, gentler creatures that did not taste as good as the hunters, and then changed into fresh clothes before I ran back to Forks.
Bella did not sleep as well tonight. She thrashed in her blankets, her face sometimes worried, sometimes sad. I wondered what nightmare haunted her...and then realized that perhaps I really didn't want to know.
When she spoke, she mostly muttered derogatory things about Forks in a glum voice. Only once, when she sighed out the words "Come back" and her hand twitched open - a wordless plea - did I have a chance to hope she might be dreaming of me. The next day of school, the last day the sun would hold me prisoner, was much the same as the day before. Bella seemed even gloomier than yesterday, and I wondered if she would bow out of her plans - she didn't seem in the mood.
But, being Bella, she would probably put her friends' enjoyment above that of her own.
She wore a deep blue blouse today, and the color set her skin off perfectly, making it look like fresh cream.
School ended, and Jessica agreed to pick the other girls up - Angela was going, too, for which I was grateful.
I went home to get my car. When I found that Peter and Charlotte were there, I decided could afford to give the girls an hour or so for a head start. I would never be able to bear following behind them, driving at the speed limit - hideous thought.
I came in through the kitchen, nodding vaguely at Emmett's and Esme's greetings as I passed by everyone in the front room and went straight to the piano. Ugh, he's back. Rosalie, of course.
Ah, Edward. I hate to see him suffering so. Esme's joy was becoming marred by concern. She should be concerned. This love story she envisioned for me was careening toward a tragedy more perceptibly every moment.
Have fun in Port Angeles tonight, Alice thought cheerfully. Let me know when I'm allowed to talk to Bella.
You're pathetic. I can't believe you missed the game last night just to watch somebody sleep, Emmett grumbled.
Jasper paid me no mind, even when the song I played came out a little more stormily than I'd intended. It was an old song, with a familiar theme: impatience. Jasper was saying goodbye to his friends, who eyed me curiously.
What a strange creature, the Alice-sized, white-blond Charlotte was thinking.
And he was so normal and pleasant the last time we met.
Peter's thoughts were in sync with hers, as was usually the case.
It must be the animals. The lack of human blood drives them mad eventually, he was concluding. His hair was just as fair as hers, and almost as long. They were very similar - except for size, as he was almost as tall as Jasper - in both look and thought. A well matched pair, I'd always thought.
Everyone but Esme stopped thinking about me after a moment, and I played in more subdued tones so that I would not attract notice.
I did not pay attention to them for a long while, just letting the music distract me from my unease. It was hard to have the girl out of sight and mind. I only returned my attention to their conversation when the goodbyes grew more final.
"If you see Maria again," Jasper was saying, a little warily, "tell her I wish her well."
Maria was the vampire who had created both Jasper and Peter - Jasper in the latter half of the nineteenth century, Peter more recently, in the nineteen forties. She'd looked Jasper up once when we were in Calgary. It had been an eventful visit - we'd had to move immediately. Jasper had politely asked her to keep her distance in the future.
"I don't imagine that will happen soon," Peter said with a laugh - Maria was undeniable dangerous and there was not much love lost between her and Peter. Peter had, after all, been instrumental in Jasper's defection. Jasper had always been Maria's favorite; she considered it a minor detail that she had once planned to kill him. "But, should it happen, I certainly will."