should have mentioned something to them earlier...
"You're always curious," I complained. Oh well. It wasn't like I hadn't had to eat before. It was part of the
charade. An unpleasant part. I reached for the closest thing, and held her eyes while I bite off a small
bite of whatever it was. Without looking, I couldn't tell. It was as slimy and chunky and repulsive as any
other human food. I chewed swiftly and swallowed, trying to keep the grimace off my face. The gob of
food moved slowly and uncomfortably down my throat.
I sighed as I thought of how I would have to choke it back up later. Disgusting. Bella's expression was
shocked. Impressed.
I wanted to roll my eyes. Of course we would have perfected such deceptions. "If someone dared you to
eat dirt, you could, couldn't you?"
Her nose wrinkled and she smiled. "I did once...on a dare. It wasn't so bad."
I laughed. "I suppose I'm not surprised."
They look cozy, don't they? Good body language. I'll give Bella my take later. He's leaning toward her
just the way he should, if he's interested. He looks interested. He looks...perfect. Jessica sighed. Yum.
I met Jessica's curious eyes, and she looked away nervously, giggling to the girl next to her.
Hmmm. Probably better to stick to Mike. Reality, not fantasy...
"Jessica's analyzing everything I do," I informed Bella. "She'll break it down for you later."
I pushed the plate of food back towards her-pizza, I realized-wondering how best to begin. My former
frustration flared as the words repeated in my head: More than he likes me. But I don't see how I can
help that.
She took a bite from the same slice of pizza. It amazed me how trusting she was. Of course, she didn't
know I was poisonous-not that sharing food would hurt her. Still, I expected her to treat me differently.
As something other. She never did-at least, not in a negative way...
I would start off gently.
"So the waitress was pretty, was she?"
She raised the eyebrow again. "You really didn't notice?"
As if any woman could hope to capture my attention from Bella. Absurd, again. "No. I wasn't paying
attention. I had a lot on my mind." Not the least of which had been the soft cling of her thin blouse...
Good thing she'd worn that ugly sweater today.
"Poor girl," Bella said, smiling.
She liked that I hadn't found the waitress interesting in any way. I could understand that. How many
times had I imagined crippling Mike Newton in the biology room?
She couldn't honestly believe that her human feelings, the fruition of seventeen short mortal years,
could be stronger than the immortal passions that had been building up in me for a century.
"Something you said to Jessica..." I couldn't keep my voice casual. "Well, it bothers me."
She was immediately on the defensive. "I'm not surprised you heard something you didn't like. You
know what they say about eavesdroppers."
Eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves, that was the saying. "I warned you I would be listening,"
I reminded her.
"And I warned you that you didn't want to know everything I was thinking."
Ah, she was thinking of when I'd made her cry. Remorse made my voice thicker.
"You did. You aren't precisely right, though. I do want to know what you're thinking-everything. I just
wish...that you wouldn't be thinking some things."
More half-lies. I knew I shouldn't want her to care about me. But I did. Of course I did.
"That's quite a distinction," she grumbled, scowling at me.
"But that's not really the point at the moment."
"Then what is?"
She leaned toward me, her hand cupped lightly around her throat. It drew my eye-distracted me. How
soft that skin must feel...
Focus, I commanded myself.
"Do you truly believe that you care more for me than I do for you?" I asked. The question sounded
ridiculous to me, like the words were scrambled.
Her eyes were wide, her breathing stopped. Then she looked away, blinking quickly. Her breath came in
a low gasp.
"You're doing it again," she murmured.
"What?"
"Dazzling me," she admitted, meeting my eyes warily.
"Oh." Hmm. I wasn't quite sure what to do about that. Nor was I sure that I didn't want to dazzle her. I
was still thrilled that I could. But it wasn't helping the progression of the conversation.
"It's not your fault." She sighed. "You can't help it."
"Are you going to answer my question?" I demanded.
She stared at the table. "Yes."
That was all she said.
"Yes, you are going to answer, or yes, you really think that?" I asked impatiently.
"Yes, I really think that," she said without looking up. There was a faint undertone of sadness in her
voice. She blushed again, and her teeth moved unconsciously to worry her lip.