I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly through my nose, aware that I was gritting my teeth. He waited.
“Then what do you want, Edward?” I asked, keeping my eyes closed; it was easier to talk to him coherently that way.
“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere. “I’m being very rude, I know. But it’s better this way, really.”
I opened my eyes. His face was very serious.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, my voice guarded.
“It’s better if we’re not friends,” he explained. “Trust me.”
My eyes narrowed. I’d heard that before.
“It’s too bad you didn’t figure that out earlier,” I hissed through my teeth. “You could have saved yourself all this regret.”
“Regret?” The word, and my tone, obviously caught him off guard. “Regret for what?”
“For not just letting that stupid van squish me.”
He was astonished. He stared at me in disbelief.
When he finally spoke, he almost sounded mad. “You think I regret saving your life?”
“I know you do,” I snapped.
“You don’t know anything.” He was definitely mad.
I turned my head sharply away from him, clenching my jaw against all the wild accusations I wanted to hurl at him. I gathered my books together, then stood and walked to the door. I meant to sweep dramatically out of the room, but of course I caught the toe of my boot on the doorjamb and dropped my books. I stood there for a moment, thinking about leaving them. Then I sighed and bent to pick them up. He was there; he’d already stacked them into a pile. He handed them to me, his face hard.
“Thank you,” I said icily.
His eyes narrowed.
“You’re welcome,” he retorted.
I straightened up swiftly, turned away from him again, and stalked off to Gym without looking back.
Gym was brutal. We’d moved on to basketball. My team never passed me the ball, so that was good, but I fell down a lot. Sometimes I took people with me. Today I was worse than usual because my head was so filled with Edward. I tried to concentrate on my feet, but he kept creeping back into my thoughts just when I really needed my balance.
It was a relief, as always, to leave. I almost ran to the truck; there were just so many people I wanted to avoid. The truck had suffered only minimal damage in the accident. I’d had to replace the taillights, and if I’d had a real paint job, I would have touched that up. Tyler’s parents had to sell their van for parts.
I almost had a stroke when I rounded the corner and saw a tall, dark figure leaning against the side of my truck. Then I realized it was just Eric. I started walking again.
“Hey, Eric,” I called.
“Hi, Bella.”
“What’s up?” I said as I was unlocking the door. I wasn’t paying attention to the uncomfortable edge in his voice, so his next words took me by surprise.
“Uh, I was just wondering . . . if you would go to the spring dance with me?” His voice broke on the last word.
“I thought it was girls’ choice,” I said, too startled to be diplomatic.
“Well, yeah,” he admitted, shamefaced.
I recovered my composure and tried to make my smile warm. “Thank you for asking me, but I’m going to be in Seattle that day.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, maybe next time.”
“Sure,” I agreed, and then bit my lip. I wouldn’t want him to take that too literally.
He slouched off, back toward the school. I heard a low chuckle.
Edward was walking past the front of my truck, looking straight forward, his lips pressed together. I yanked the door open and jumped inside, slamming it loudly behind me. I revved the engine deafeningly and reversed out into the aisle. Edward was in his car already, two spaces down, sliding out smoothly in front of me, cutting me off. He stopped there — to wait for his family; I could see the four of them walking this way, but still by the cafeteria. I considered taking out the rear of his shiny Volvo, but there were too many witnesses. I looked in my rearview mirror. A line was beginning to form. Directly behind me, Tyler Crowley was in his recently acquired used Sentra, waving. I was too aggravated to acknowledge him.
While I was sitting there, looking everywhere but at the car in front of me, I heard a knock on my passenger side window. I looked over; it was Tyler. I glanced back in my rearview mirror, confused. His car was still running, the door left open. I leaned across the cab to crank the window down. It was stiff. I got it halfway down, then gave up.
“I’m sorry, Tyler, I’m stuck behind Cullen.” I was annoyed — obviously the holdup wasn’t my fault.
“Oh, I know — I just wanted to ask you something while we’re trapped here.” He grinned.