My stomach twisted as I realized what he must have meant. He must see how absorbed

I was by him; he must not want to lead me on… so we couldn't even be friends…

because he wasn't interested in me at all.

Of course he wasn't interested in me, I thought angrily, my eyes stinging — a delayed

reaction to the onions. I wasn't interesting. And he was. Interesting… and brilliant… and

mysterious… and perfect… and beautiful… and possibly able to lift full-sized vans with

one hand.

Well, that was fine. I could leave him alone. I would leave him alone. I would get

through my self-imposed sentence here in purgatory, and then hopefully some school in

the Southwest, or possibly Hawaii, would offer me a scholarship. I focused my thoughts

on sunny beaches and palm trees as I finished the enchiladas and put them in the oven.

Charlie seemed suspicious when he came home and smelled the green peppers. I

couldn't blame him — the closest edible Mexican food was probably in southern

California. But he was a cop, even if just a small-town cop, so he was brave enough to

take the first bite. He seemed to like it. It was fun to watch as he slowly began trusting

me in the kitchen.

"Dad?" I asked when he was almost done.

"Yeah, Bella?"

"Um, I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to Seattle for the day a week from

Saturday … if that's okay?" I didn't want to ask permission — it set a bad precedent —

but I felt rude, so I tacked it on at the end.

"Why?" He sounded surprised, as if he were unable to imagine something thatorks

couldn't offer.

"Well, I wanted to get few books — the library here is pretty limited — and maybe look

at some clothes." I had more money than I was used to having, since, thanks to Charlie, I

hadn't had to pay for a car. Not that the truck didn't cost me quite a bit in the gas

department.

"That truck probably doesn't get very good gas mileage," he said, echoing my thoughts.

"I know, I'll stop in Montesano and Olympia — and Tacoma if I have to."

"Are you going all by yourself?" he asked, and I couldn't tell if he was suspicious I had

a secret boyfriend or just worried about car trouble.

"Yes."

"Seattle is a big city — you could get lost," he fretted.

"Dad, Phoenix is five times the size of Seattle — and I can read a map, don't worry

about it."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

I tried to be crafty as I hid my horror.

"That's all right, Dad, I'll probably just be in dressing rooms all day — very boring."

"Oh, okay." The thought of sitting in women's clothing stores for any period of time

immediately put him off.

"Thanks." I smiled at him.

"Will you be back in time for the dance?"

Grrr. Only in a town this small would a fath er know when the high school dances were.

"No — I don't dance, Dad." He, of all people, should understand that — I didn't get my

balance problems from my mother.

He did understand. "Oh, that's right," he realized.

The next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot, I deliberately parked as far as

possible from the silver Volvo. I didn't want to put myself in the path of too much

temptation and end up owing him a new car. Getting out of the cab, I fumbled with my

key and it fell into a puddle at my feet. As I bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and

grabbed it before I could. I jerked upright. Edward Cullen was right next to me, leaning

casually against my truck.

"How do you do that?" I asked in amazed irritation.

"Do what?" He held my key out as he spoke. As I reached for it, he dropped it into my

palm.

"Appear out of thin air."

"Bella, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant." His voice was quiet as

usual — velvet, muted.

I scowled at his perfect face. His eyes were light again today, a deep, golden honey

color. Then I had to look down, to reassemble my now-tangled thoughts.

"Why the traffic jam last night?" I demanded, still looking away. "I thought you were

supposed to be pretending I don't exist, not irritating me to death."

"That was for Tyler 's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." He snickered.

"You…" I gasped. I couldn't think of a bad enough word. It felt like the heat of my

anger should physically burn him, but he only seemed more amused.

"And I'm not pretending you don't exist," he continued.

"So you are trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler 's van didn't do the job?"

Anger flashed in his tawny eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, all signs of humor

gone.

"Bella, you are utterly absurd," he said, his low voice cold.

My palms tingled — I wanted so badly to hit something. I was surprised at myself. I

was usually a nonviolent person. I turned my back and started to walk away.

"Wait," he called. I kept walking, sloshing angrily through the rain. But he was next to

me, easily keeping pace.

"I'm sorry, that was rude," he said as we walked. I ignored him. "I'm not saying it isn't

true," he continued, "but it was rude to say it, anyway."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," he chuckled. He seemed to

have recovered his good humor.

"Do you have a multiple personality disorder?" I asked severely.

"You're doing it again."

I sighed." Fine then. What do you want to ask?"

"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday — you know, the day of the spring dance

—"

"Are you trying to be funny ?" I interrupted him, wheeling toward him. My face got

drenched as I looked up at his expression.

His eyes were wickedly amused. "Will you please allow me to finish?"

I bit my lip and clasped my hands together, interlocking my fingers, so I couldn't do

anything rash.

"I heard you say you were going to Seattle that day, and I was wondering if you wanted

a ride."

That was unexpected.

"What?" I wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"Do you want a ride to Seattle ?"

"With who?" I asked, mystified.

"Myself, obviously." He enunciated every syllable, as if he were talking to someone

mentally handicapped.

I was still stunned. " Why ?"

"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."

"My truck works just fine, thank you very much for your concern." I started to walk

again, but I was too surprised to maintain the same level of anger.

"But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?" He matched my pace again.

"I don't see how that is any of your business." Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business."

"Honestly, Edward." I felt a thrill go through me as I said his name, and I hated 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, thanks, now that's all cleared up. "Heavy sarcasm. I realized I had stopped

walking again. We were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof now, so I could more easily

look at is face. Which certainly didn't help my clarity of thought.

"It would be more…prudentfor you not to be my friend," he explained. "But I'm tired

of trying to stay away from you, Bella."

His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence, his voice smoldering. I

couldn't remember how to breathe.