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usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.
Mike, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class.
It looked like I was going to have to do something about Mike, and it wouldn’t be easy.
would have to make a date to visit Olympia or Seattle soon and find a good bookstore.
I felt excited to go to school, and that scared me. I knew it wasn’t the stimulating learning environment I was anticipating, or seeing my new set of friends. If I was being honest with myself, I knew I was eager to get to school because I would see Edward Cullen. And that was very, very stupid.
“It matters to me,” I insisted. “I don’t like to lie—so there’d better be a good reason why I’m doing it.” “Can’t you just thank me and get over it?” “Thank you.” I waited, fuming and expectant. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?” “No.” “In that case . . . I hope you enjoy disappointment.”
With chagrin, I realized the probable cause—no one else was as aware of Edward as I always was. No one else watched him the way I did. How pitiful.
“You really shouldn’t do that to people,” I criticized. “It’s hardly fair.” “Do what?” “Dazzle them like that—she’s probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right now.” He seemed confused. “Oh, come on,” I said dubiously. “You have to know the effect you have on people.” He tilted his head to one side, and his eyes were curious. “I dazzle people?” “You haven’t noticed? Do you think everybody gets their way so easily?” He ignored my questions. “Do I dazzle you?” “Frequently,” I admitted.
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn’t work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I’m only getting FM.” He grinned at me, suddenly amused. “My mind doesn’t work right? I’m a freak?” The words bothered me more than they should—probably because his speculation hit home. I’d always suspected as much, and it embarrassed me to have it confirmed. “I hear voices in my mind and you’re worried that you’re the freak,” he laughed.
“I can’t be sure—I don’t know how to read minds—but sometimes it seems like you’re trying to say goodbye when you’re saying something else.”
“Just because I’m resisting the wine doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the bouquet,”
