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I’D NEVER GIVEN MUCH THOUGHT TO HOW I WOULD DIE—THOUGH I’d had reason enough in the last few months—but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this.
Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something.
When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it’s not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds.
When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn’t see it as an omen—just unavoidable. I’d already said my goodbyes to the sun.
And I never looked a free truck in the mouth—or engine.
One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn’t hover.
Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain.
No one was going to bite me. I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck.
that I first saw them.
I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful.
I began to feel like I was treading water, instead of drowning in it.
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.
“How did you get over here so fast?” “I was standing right next to you, Bella,”
Edward vehemently refused his, and I tried to do the same, but the traitor told them I’d hit my head and probably had a concussion.
“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.”
That was the first night I dreamed of Edward Cullen.
“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
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“I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don’t exist, not irritating me to death.”
“So you are trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler’s van didn’t do the job?”
“Bella, you are utterly absurd,”
“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.”
“But I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella.”
“You really should stay away from me,” he warned. “I’ll see you in class.”
“I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly.”
“I think your friends are angry with me for stealing you.” “They’ll survive.” I could feel their stares boring into my back. “I may not give you back, though,”
“I told you—I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I’m giving up.” He was still smiling, but his ocher eyes were serious. “Giving up?” I repeated in confusion. “Yes—giving up trying to be good. I’m just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may.”
I had been vacillating during the last month between Bruce Wayne and Peter Parker. There was no way I was going to own up to that.
“That’s really frustrating, you know,” he complained. “No,” I disagreed quickly, my eyes narrowing, “I can’t imagine why that would be frustrating at all—just because someone refuses to tell you what they’re thinking, even if all the while they’re making cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering what they could possibly mean… now, why would that be frustrating?”
“Or better,” I continued, the pent-up annoyance flowing freely now, “say that person also did a wide range of bizarre things—from saving your life under impossible circumstances one day to treating you like a pariah the next, and he never explained any of that, either, even after he promised. That, also, would be very non-frustrating.”
just wondered… if you could warn me beforehand the next time you decide to ignore me for my own good. Just so I’m prepared.”
Uh huh sure you will Eddie
“What if I’m not a superhero? What if I’m the bad guy?” He smiled playfully, but his eyes were impenetrable.
“What’s wrong—is she hurt?” His voice was closer now, and he sounded upset. I wasn’t imagining it. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to die. Or, at the very least, not to throw up.
“So you faint at the sight of blood?”
“You were right,” I moaned, letting my eyes close. “I usually am—but about what in particular this time?” “Ditching is healthy.” I practiced breathing evenly. “You scared me for a minute there,”
thought Newton was dragging your dead body off to bury it in the woods.” “Ha ha.” I still had my eyes closed,
“Honestly—I’ve seen corpses with better color. I was concerned that I might have to avenge your murder.”
“You actually listened to me.” He was stunned. “I smelled the blood,” I said, wrinkling my nose. Lee wasn’t sick from watching other people, like me. “People can’t smell blood,” he contradicted. “Well, I can—that’s what makes me sick. It smells like rust… and salt.”
“My mom always says I was born thirty-five years old and that I get more middle-aged every year.” I laughed, and then sighed. “Well, someone has to be the adult.”
“Don’t be offended, but you seem to be one of those people who just attract accidents like a magnet. So… try not to fall into the ocean or get run over or anything, all right?”
Because when I thought of him, of his voice, his hypnotic eyes, the magnetic force of his personality, I wanted nothing more than to be with him right now.
“How old are you?” “Seventeen,” he answered promptly. “And how long have you been seventeen?” His lips twitched as he stared at the road. “A while,”
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was part of him—and I didn’t know how potent that part might be—that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.
“Do you truly believe that you care more for me than I do for you?” he murmured, leaning closer to me as he spoke, his dark golden eyes piercing. I tried to remember how to exhale. I had to look away before it came back to me.
plummeted around us in a sudden deluge. I tried to describe impossible things like the scent of creosote—bitter, slightly resinous, but still pleasant—the high, keening sound of the cicadas in July, the feathery barrenness of the trees, the very size of the sky, extending white-blue from horizon to horizon, barely interrupted by the low mountains covered with purple volcanic rock. The hardest thing to explain was why it was so beautiful to me—to justify a beauty that didn’t depend on the sparse, spiny vegetation that often looked half dead, a beauty that had more to do with the exposed shape
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“The easiest time. But also the saddest, in a way… the end of another day, the return of the night. Darkness is so predictable, don’t you think?” He smiled wistfully. “I like the night. Without the dark, we’d never see the stars.”
Rosalie turned her head, and I was relieved to be free. I looked back at Edward—and I knew he could see the confusion and fear that widened my eyes. His face was tight as he explained. “I’m sorry about that. She’s just worried. You see… it’s dangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly…” He looked down. “If?” “If this ends… badly.”
“I’m the world’s best predator, aren’t I? Everything about me invites you in—my voice, my face, even my smell. As if I need any of that!”
“So what you’re saying is, I’m your brand of heroin?”
“Yes, you are exactly my brand of heroin.”
