It was very hard, in the morning, to argue with the part of me that wassure last night was a dream. Logic wasn't on my side, or common sense. Iclung to the parts I couldn't have imagined — like his smell. I was sureI could never have dreamed that up on my own.

　　It was foggy and dark outside my window, absolutely perfect. He had noreason not to be in school today. I dressed in my heavy clothes,remembering I didn't have a jacket. Further proof that my memory was real.

　　When I got downstairs, Charlie was gone again — I was running later thanI'd realized. I swallowed a granola bar in three bites, chased it downwith milk straight from the carton, and then hurried out the door.

　　Hopefully the rain would hold off until I could find Jessica.

　　It was unusually foggy; the air was almost smoky with it. The mist wasice cold where it clung to the exposed skin on my face and neck. Icouldn't wait to get the heat going in my truck. It was such a thick fogthat I was a few feet down the driveway before I realized there was a carin it: a silver car. My heart thudded, stuttered, and then picked upagain in double time.

　　I didn't see where he came from, but suddenly he was there, pulling thedoor open for me.

　　"Do you want to ride with me today?" he asked, amused by my expression ashe caught me by surprise yet again. There was uncertainty in his voice.

　　He was really giving me a choice — I was free to refuse, and part of himhoped for that. It was a vain hope.

　　"Yes, thank you," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. As I stepped intothe warm car, I noticed his tan jacket was slung over the headrest of thepassenger seat. The door closed behind me, and, sooner than should bepossible, he was sitting next to me, starting the car.

　　"I brought the jacket for you. I didn't want you to get sick orsomething." His voice was guarded. I noticed that he wore no jackethimself, just a light gray knit V-neck shirt with long sleeves. Again,the fabric clung to his perfectly muscled chest. It was a colossaltribute to his face that it kept my eyes away from his body.

　　"I'm not quite that delicate," I said, but I pulled the jacket onto mylap, pushing my arms through the too-long sleeves, curious to see if thescent could possibly be as good as I remembered. It was better.

　　"Aren't you?" he contradicted in a voice so low I wasn't sure if he meantfor me to hear.

　　We drove through the fog-shrouded streets, always too fast, feelingawkward. I was, at least. Last night all the walls were down… almost all.

　　I didn't know if we were still being as candid today. It left metongue-tied. I waited for him to speak.

　　He turned to smirk at me. "What, no twenty questions today?""Do my questions bother you?" I asked, relieved.

　　"Not as much as your reactions do." He looked like he was joking, but Icouldn't be sure.

　　I frowned. "Do I react badly?""No, that's the problem. You take everything so coolly — it's unnatural.

　　It makes me wonder what you're really thinking.""I always tell you what I'm really thinking.""You edit," he accused.

　　"Not very much.""Enough to drive me insane.""You don't want to hear it," I mumbled, almost whispered. As soon as thewords were out, I regretted them. The pain in my voice was very faint; Icould only hope he hadn't noticed it.

　　He didn't respond, and I wondered if I had ruined the mood. His face wasunreadable as we drove into the school parking lot. Something occurred tome belatedly.

　　"Where's the rest of your family?" I asked — more than glad to be alonewith him, but remembering that his car was usually full.

　　"They took Rosalie's car." He shrugged as he parked next to a glossy redconvertible with the top up. "Ostentatious, isn't it?""Um, wow," I breathed. "If she has that, why does she ride with you?""Like I said, it's ostentatious. We try to blend in.""You don't succeed." I laughed and shook my head as we got out of thecar. I wasn't late anymore; his lunatic driving had gotten me to schoolin plenty of time. "So why did Rosalie drive today if it's moreconspicuous?""Hadn't you noticed? I'm breaking all the rules now." He met me at thefront of the car, staying very close to my side as we walked onto campus.

　　I wanted to close that little distance, to reach out and touch him, but Iwas afraid he wouldn't like me to.

　　"Why do you have cars like that at all?" I wondered aloud. "If you'relooking for privacy?""An indulgence," he admitted with an impish smile. "We all like to drivefast.""Figures," I muttered under my breath.

　　Under the shelter of the cafeteria roof's overhang, Jessica was waiting,her eyes about to bug out of their sockets. Over her arm, bless her, wasmy jacket.

　　"Hey, Jessica," I said when we were a few feet away. "Thanks forremembering." She handed me my jacket without speaking.

　　"Good morning, Jessica," Edward said politely. It wasn't really his faultthat his voice was so irresistible. Or what his eyes were capable of.

　　"Er… hi." She shifted her wide eyes to me, trying to gather her jumbledthoughts. "I guess I'll see you in Trig." She gave me a meaningful look,and I suppressed a sigh. What on earth was I going to tell her?

　　"Yeah, I'll see you then."She walked away, pausing twice to peek back over her shoulder at us.

　　"What are you going to tell her?" Edward murmured.

　　"Hey, I thought you couldn't read my mind!" I hissed.

　　"I can't," he said, startled. Then understanding brightened his eyes.

　　"However, I can read hers — she'll be waiting to ambush you in class."I groaned as I pulled off his jacket and handed it to him, replacing itwith my own. He folded it over his arm.

　　"So what are you going to tell her?""A little help?" I pleaded. "What does she want to know?"He shook his head, grinning wickedly. "That's not fair.""No, you not sharing what you know — now that's not fair."He deliberated for a moment as we walked. We stopped outside the door tomy first class.

　　"She wants to know if we're secretly dating. And she wants to know howyou feel about me," he finally said.

　　"Yikes. What should I say?" I tried to keep my expression very innocent.

　　People were passing us on their way to class, probably staring, but I wasbarely aware of them.

　　"Hmmm." He paused to catch a stray lock of hair that was escaping thetwist on my neck and wound it back into place. My heart splutteredhyperactively. "I suppose you could say yes to the first… if you don'tmind — it's easier than any other explanation.""I don't mind," I said in a faint voice.

　　"And as for her other question… well, I'll be listening to hear theanswer to that one myself." One side of his mouth pulled up into myfavorite uneven smile. I couldn't catch my breath soon enough to respondto that remark. He turned and walked away.

　　"I'll see you at lunch," he called over his shoulder. Three peoplewalking in the door stopped to stare at me.

　　I hurried into class, flushed and irritated. He was such a cheater. Now Iwas even more worried about what I was going to say to Jessica. I sat inmy usual seat, slamming my bag down in aggravation.

　　"Morning, Bella," Mike said from the seat next to me. I looked up to seean odd, almost resigned look on his face. "How was Port Angeles?""It was…" There was no honest way to sum it up. "Great," I finishedlamely. "Jessica got a really cute dress.""Did she say anything about Monday night?" he asked, his eyesbrightening. I smiled at the turn the conversation had taken.

　　"She said she had a really good time," I assured him.

　　"She did?" he said eagerly.

　　"Most definitely."Mr. Mason called the class to order then, asking us to turn in ourpapers. English and then Government passed in a blur, while I worriedabout how to explain things to Jessica and agonized over whether Edwardwould really be listening to what I said through the medium of Jess'sthoughts. How very inconvenient his little talent could be — when itwasn't saving my life.

　　The fog had almost dissolved by the end of the second hour, but the daywas still dark with low, oppressing clouds. I smiled up at the sky.

　　Edward was right, of course. When I walked into Trig Jessica was sittingin the back row, nearly bouncing off her seat in agitation. I reluctantlywent to sit by her, trying to convince myself it would be better to getit over with as soon as possible.

　　"Tell me everything!" she commanded before I was in the seat.

　　"What do you want to know?" I hedged.

　　"What happened last night?""He bought me dinner, and then he drove me home."She glared at me, her expression stiff with skepticism. "How did you gethome so fast?""He drives like a maniac. It was terrifying." I hoped he heard that.

　　"Was it like a date — did you tell him to meet you there?"I hadn't thought of that. "No — I was very surprised to see him there."Her lips puckered in disappointment at the transparent honesty in myvoice.

　　"But he picked you up for school today?" she probed.

　　"Yes — that was a surprise, too. He noticed I didn't have a jacket lastnight," I explained.

　　"So are you going out again?""He offered to drive me to Seattle Saturday because he thinks toy truckisn't up to it — does that count?""Yes." She nodded.

　　"Well, then, yes.""W-o-w." She exaggerated the word into three syllables. "Edward Cullen.""I know," I agreed. "Wow" didn't even cover it.

　　"Wait!" Her hands flew up, palms toward me like she was stopping traffic.

　　"Has he kissed you?""No," I mumbled. "It's not like that."She looked disappointed. I'm sure I did, too.

　　"Do you think Saturday… ?" She raised her eyebrows.

　　"I really doubt it." The discontent in my voice was poorly disguised.

　　"What did you talk about?" She pushed for more information in a whisper.

　　Class had started but Mr. Varner wasn't paying close attention and weweren't the only ones still talking.

　　"I don't know, Jess, lots of stuff," I whispered back. "We talked aboutthe English essay a little." A very, very little. I think he mentioned itin passing.

　　"Please, Bella," she begged. "Give me some details.""Well… okay, I've got one. You should have seen the waitress flirtingwith him — it was over the top. But he didn't pay any attention to her atall." Let him make what he could of that.

　　"That's a good sign," she nodded. "Was she pretty?""Very — and probably nineteen or twenty.""Even better. He must like you.""I think so, but it's hard to tell. He's always so cryptic," I threw infor his benefit, sighing.

　　"I don't know how you're brave enough to be alone with him," she breathed.

　　"Why?" I was shocked, but she didn't understand my reaction.

　　"He's so… intimidating. I wouldn't know what to say to him." She made aface, probably remembering this morning or last night, when he'd turnedthe overwhelming force of his eyes on her.

　　"I do have some trouble with incoherency when I'm around him," I admitted.

　　"Oh well. He is unbelievably gorgeous." Jessica shrugged as if thisexcused any flaws. Which, in her book, it probably did.

　　"There's a lot more to him than that.""Really? Like what?"I wished I had let it go. Almost as much as I was hoping he'd beenkidding about listening in.

　　"I can't explain it right… but he's even more unbelievable behind theface." The vampire who wanted to be good — who ran around saving people'slives so he wouldn't be a monster… I stared toward the front of the room.

　　"Is that possible?" She giggled.

　　I ignored her, trying to look like I was paying attention to Mr. Varner.

　　"So you like him, then?" She wasn't about to give up.

　　"Yes," I said curtly.

　　"I mean, do you really like him?" she urged.

　　"Yes," I said again, blushing. I hoped that detail wouldn't register inher thoughts.

　　She'd had enough with the single syllable answers. "How much do you likehim?""Too much," I whispered back. "More than he likes me. But I don't see howI can help that." I sighed, one blush blending into the next.

　　Then, thankfully, Mr. Varner called on Jessica for an answer.

　　She didn't get a chance to start on the subject again during class, andas soon as the bell rang, I took evasive action.

　　"In English, Mike asked me if you said anything about Monday night," Itold her.

　　"You're kidding! What did you say?!" she gasped, completely sidetracked.

　　"I told him you said you had a lot of fun — he looked pleased.""Tell me exactly what he said, and your exact answer!"We spent the rest of the walk dissecting sentence structures and most ofSpanish on a minute description of Mike's facial expressions. I wouldn'thave helped draw it out for as long as I did if I wasn't worried aboutthe subject returning to me.

　　And then the bell rang for lunch. As I jumped up out of my seat, shovingmy books roughly in my bag, my uplifted expression must have tippedJessica off.

　　"You're not sitting with us today, are you?" she guessed.

　　"I don't think so." I couldn't be sure that he wouldn't disappearinconveniently again.

　　But outside the door to our Spanish class, leaning against the wall —looking more like a Greek god than anyone had a right to — Edward waswaiting for me. Jessica took one look, rolled her eyes, and departed.

　　"See you later, Bella." Her voice was thick with implications. I mighthave to turn off the ringer on the phone.

　　"Hello." His voice was amused and irritated at the same time. He had beenlistening, it was obvious.

　　"Hi."I couldn't think of anything else to say, and he didn't speak — bidinghis time, I presumed — so it was a quiet walk to the cafeteria. Walkingwith Edward through the crowded lunchtime rush was a lot like my firstday here; everyone stared.

　　He led the way into the line, still not speaking, though his eyesreturned to my face every few seconds, their expression speculative. Itseemed to me that irritation was winning out over amusement as thedominant emotion in his face. I fidgeted nervously with the zipper on myjacket.

　　He stepped up to the counter and filled a tray with food.

　　"What are you doing?" I objected. "You're not getting all that for me?"He shook his head, stepping forward to buy the food.

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