She stared for a second, and when she answered, her voice was cold. “Beau, you are utterly absurd.”
I must be right about the torture thing. I was just a way for her to pass time in this boring town. An easy mark.
I was past her in one long stride.
“Wait,” she said, but I forced myself to keep moving, not to look back.
“I’m sorry, that was rude,” she said, somehow right next to me, keeping pace though my legs were probably twice as long as hers. “I’m not saying it wasn’t true, but it was rude to say it out loud.”
“Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me.”
I sighed and slowed, though she didn’t seem like she was having a hard time keeping up. “Fine.” I was such a sucker. “What do you want?”
“I was wondering if, a week from Saturday—you know, the day of the spring dance—”
I stopped, wheeling to look down at her. “Is this funny to you?”
She stared up at me, seeming oblivious to the drizzling rain that was falling. She was apparently wearing no makeup at all—nothing smudged or ran. Of course, her face was just that perfect naturally. For a second, I was actually angry—angry that she had to be so beautiful. Angry that her beauty had made her cruel. Angry that I was the object of her cruelty, and even though I knew it, I still couldn’t successfully walk away from her.
Her amused expression was back, the hint of dimples threatening on her cheeks.
“Will you please allow me to finish?” she asked.
Walk away, I told myself.
I didn’t move.
“I heard that you were going to Seattle that day, and I wondered if you wanted a ride.”
That was not what I was expecting.
“Huh?”
“Do you want a ride to Seattle?”
I wasn’t sure where her joke was heading now. “With who?”
“Myself, obviously.” She enunciated every syllable, like she thought maybe English wasn’t my first language.
“Why?” Where was the punch line?
“Well, I was planning to go to Seattle in the next few weeks, and to be honest, I’m not sure if your truck can make it.”
Finally, I was able to start walking again, goaded by the insult to my truck.
“Make fun of me all you want, but leave the truck out of it,” I said.
Again, she kept up easily. “Why would you think that I’m making fun of you?” she asked. “The invitation is genuine.”
“My truck is great, thanks.”
“Can your truck make it to Seattle on one tank of gas?”
Before the truck, I’d never cared one way or another about any car, but I could feel a prejudice against Volvos forming.
“I don’t see how that’s your problem.”
“The wasting of finite resources is everyone’s problem,” she said primly.
“Seriously, Edythe.” I felt a charge go through me as I said her name aloud, and I didn’t like it. “I can’t keep up with you. I thought you didn’t want to be my friend.”
“I said it would be better if we weren’t friends, not that I didn’t want to be.”
“Oh, wow, great, so that’s all cleared up.” Thick sarcasm. I realized I had stopped walking again. I looked down at her rain-washed face, clean and perfect, and my thoughts stuttered to a halt.
“It would be more… prudent for you not to be my friend,” she explained. “But I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, Beau.”
There was no humor in her face now. Her eyes were intense, narrowed, the long lines of her lashes stark black against her skin. Her voice had a strange heat to it. I couldn’t remember how to breathe.
“Will you accept a ride with me to Seattle?” she demanded, voice still burning.
I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded.
A quick smile reshaped her face, and then she was serious again.
“You really should stay away from me,” she warned. “I’ll see you in class.”
She spun on her heel and then walked quickly back the way we’d come.
5. BLOOD TYPE
I WALKED TO ENGLISH IN A KIND OF DAZE. I DIDN’T REALIZE WHEN I first came through the door that class had already started.
Ms. Mason’s irritated voice was my first clue. “Thank you for joining us, Mr. Swan.”
Patches of red formed on my face as I hurried to my seat.
It wasn’t until class was over that I noticed McKayla wasn’t sitting next to me like she usually did, and I remembered that I had hurt her feelings. But she and Erica waited at the door for me, so I hoped that meant I would be forgiven eventually. As we walked, McKayla seemed to become herself again, getting more enthusiastic as she talked about the weather report for the weekend. The rain was supposed to take a short break, so her beach trip would be possible. I tried to match her enthusiasm to make up for disappointing her yesterday, but I could tell I wasn’t fooling either of them. Rain or no rain, we would be lucky if the temperature even got close to fifty degrees. Not my idea of a beach day.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. It was hard to believe I wasn’t imagining things again—that Edythe really had said those words, and that her eyes had looked that way when she was saying them. Something about her confused my reality. First I’d thought I’d seen her stop a van barehanded, and now this. The original delusion seemed more likely than the second—that I appealed to her on any level. But here I was, walking into this one with eyes wide open, and I didn’t even care that the punch line was coming. At the moment, it seemed like a decent trade—her laughter later for that look in her eyes now.
I was both eager and nervous when I finally got to the cafeteria at lunchtime. Would she ignore me like usual? Would there be any sign from her that the conversation this morning had, in fact, happened? With a small percentage of my brain I listened to Jeremy. McKayla had asked him to the dance, and they were going to go with a few others—Allen and Erica, Logan and Taylor. I think I grunted in the right places, because he didn’t seem to notice how little of my attention I was giving him.
My eyes went straight to her table as soon as I was through the door, and then disappointment hit like a punch to the gut. There were only four people there, and Edythe wasn’t one of them. Was she going to disappear every time something significant happened?
Of course, the conversation this morning was only significant to me, I was sure.
I lost my appetite. I grabbed a bottle of lemonade for something to carry and followed Jeremy robotically through the line, wishing I were the kind of person who could just go home early, the kind who didn’t worry about unexcused absences and detention and disappointed parental figures.
“Edythe Cullen is staring at you again,” Jeremy said. I was one hundred percent paying attention as soon as he said her name. “I wonder why she’s sitting alone today.”
My head snapped up and I quickly followed his line of sight. Edythe was sitting at an empty table across the cafeteria from where she usually sat. Her dimples flashed as soon as she knew I’d seen her. She raised one hand and motioned with her index finger for me to join her. As I stared, not entirely believing my own eyes, she winked.
“Does she mean you?” Jeremy asked. There was an insult in his astonishment, but I was past caring.
“Um, maybe she needs help with her Biology homework,” I muttered. “I guess I should go see what she wants.”
I could feel Jeremy staring after me as I walked away. I could also feel those ugly splotches of red start up my neck, and tried to calm myself.
When I got to her table I just stood there behind the chair across from her, awkward.