8.PORTANGELES JessdrovefasterthantheChief,sowemadeittoPortAngelesbyfour.IthadbeenawhilesinceI'dhadagirls'nightout,andtheestrogenrushwasinvigorating.WelistenedtowhinyrocksongswhileJessicajabberedonabouttheboyswehungoutwith.Jessica'sdinnerwithMikehadgoneverywell,andshewashopingthatbySaturdaynighttheywouldhaveprogressedtothefirst-kissstage.Ismiledtomyself,pleased.Angelawaspassivelyhappytobegoingtothedance,butnotreallyinterestedinEric.Jesstriedtogethertoconfesswhohertypewas,butIinterruptedwithaquestionaboutdressesafterabit,tospareher.Angelathrewagratefulglancemyway. PortAngeleswasabeautifullittletouristtrap,muchmorepolishedandquaintthanForks.ButJessicaandAngelaknewitwell,sotheydidn'tplantowastetimeonthepicturesqueboardwalkbythebay.Jessdrovestraighttotheonebigdepartmentstoreintown,whichwasafewstreetsinfromthebayarea'svisitor-friendlyface. Thedancewasbilledassemiformal,andweweren'texactlysurewhatthatmeant.BothJessicaandAngelaseemedsurprisedandalmostdisbelievingwhenItoldthemI'dneverbeentoadanceinPhoenix. "Didn'tyouevergowithaboyfriendorsomething?"Jessaskeddubiouslyaswewalkedthroughthefrontdoorsofthestore. "Really,"Itriedtoconvinceher,notwantingtoconfessmydancingproblems. "I'veneverhadaboyfriendoranythingclose.Ididn'tgooutmuch." "Whynot?"Jessicademanded. "Nooneaskedme,"Iansweredhonestly. Shelookedskeptical. "Peopleaskyououthere,"sheremindedme, "andyoutellthemno."Wewereinthejuniors'sectionnow,scanningtheracksfordress-upclothes. "Well,exceptforTyler,"Angelaamendedquietly. "Excuseme?"Igasped. "Whatdidyousay?" "Tylertoldeveryonehe'stakingyoutoprom,"Jessicainformedmewithsuspiciouseyes. "Hesaidwhat?"IsoundedlikeIwaschoking. "Itoldyouitwasn'ttrue,"AngelamurmuredtoJessica. Iwassilent,stilllostinshockthatwasquicklyturningtoirritation.Butwehadfoundthedressracks,andnowwehadworktodo. "That'swhyLaurendoesn'tlikeyou,"Jessicagiggledwhilewepawedthroughtheclothes. Igroundmyteeth. "DoyouthinkthatifIranhimoverwithmytruckhewouldstopfeelingguiltyabouttheaccident?Thathemightgiveuponmakingamendsandcalliteven?" "Maybe,"Jesssnickered. '"Ifthat'swhyhe'sdoingthis." Thedressselectionwasn'tlarge,butbothofthemfoundafewthingstotryon.Isatonalowchairjustinsidethedressingroom,bythethree-waymirror,tryingtocontrolmyfuming. Jesswastornbetweentwo—onealong,strapless,basicblacknumber,theotheraknee-lengthelectricbluewithspaghettistraps.Iencouragedhertogowiththeblue;whynotplayuptheeyes?Angelachoseapalepinkdressthatdrapedaroundhertallframenicelyandbroughtouthoneytintsinherlightbrownhair.Icomplimentedthembothgenerouslyandhelpedbyreturningtherejectstotheirracks.ThewholeprocesswasmuchshorterandeasierthansimilartripsI'dtakenwithRenéeathome.Iguesstherewassomethingtobesaidforlimitedchoices. Weheadedovertoshoesandaccessories.WhiletheytriedthingsonImerelywatchedandcritiqued,notinthemoodtoshopformyself,thoughIdidneednewshoes.Thegirls'-nighthighwaswearingoffinthewakeofmyannoyanceatTyler,leavingroomforthegloomtomovebackin. "Angela?"Ibegan,hesitant,whileshewastryingonapairofpinkstrappyheels—shewasoverjoyedtohaveadatetallenoughthatshecouldwearhighheelsatall. Jessicahaddriftedtothejewelrycounterandwewerealone. "Yes?"Sheheldherlegout,twistingherankletogetabetterviewoftheshoe. Ichickenedout. "Ilikethose." "IthinkI'llgetthem—thoughthey'llnevermatchanythingbuttheonedress,"shemused. "Oh,goahead—they'reonsale,"Iencouraged.Shesmiled,puttingthelidbackonaboxthatcontainedmorepractical-lookingoff-whiteshoes. Itriedagain. "Um,Angela…"Shelookedupcuriously. "Isitnormalforthe…Cullens" —Ikeptmyeyesontheshoes— "tobeoutofschoolalot?"Ifailedmiserablyinmyattempttosoundnonchalant. "Yes,whentheweatherisgoodtheygobackpackingallthetime—eventhedoctor.They'reallrealoutdoorsy,"shetoldmequietly,examininghershoes,too.Shedidn'taskonequestion,letalonethehundredsthatJessicawouldhaveunleashed.IwasbeginningtoreallylikeAngela. "Oh."IletthesubjectdropasJessicareturnedtoshowustherhinestonejewelryshe'dfoundtomatchhersilvershoes. WeplannedtogotodinneratalittleItalianrestaurantontheboardwalk,butthedressshoppinghadn'ttakenaslongaswe'dexpected.JessandAngelaweregoingtotaketheirclothesbacktothecarandthenwalkdowntothebay.ItoldthemIwouldmeetthemattherestaurantinanhour—Iwantedtolookforabookstore.Theywerebothwillingtocomewithme,butIencouragedthemtogohavefun—theydidn'tknowhowpreoccupiedIcouldgetwhensurroundedbybooks;itwassomethingIpreferredtodoalone.Theywalkedofftothecarchatteringhappily,andIheadedinthedirectionJesspointedout. Ihadnotroublefindingthebookstore,butitwasn'twhatIwaslookingfor.Thewindowswerefullofcrystals,dream-catchers,andbooksaboutspiritualhealing.Ididn'tevengoinside.ThroughtheglassIcouldseeafifty-year-oldwomanwithlong,grayhairwornstraightdownherback,cladinadressrightoutofthesixties,smilingwelcominglyfrombehindthecounter.IdecidedthatwasoneconversationIcouldskip.Therehadtobeanormalbookstoreintown. Imeanderedthroughthestreets,whichwerefillingupwithend-of-the-workdaytraffic,andhopedIwasheadedtowarddowntown.Iwasn'tpayingasmuchattentionasIshouldtowhereIwasgoing;Iwaswrestlingwithdespair.Iwastryingsohardnottothinkabouthim,andwhatAngelahadsaid…andmorethananythingtryingtobeatdownmyhopesforSaturday,fearingadisappointmentmorepainfulthantherest,whenIlookeduptoseesomeone'ssilverVolvoparkedalongthestreetanditallcamecrashingdownonme.Stupid,unreliablevampire,Ithoughttomyself. Istompedalonginasoutherlydirection,towardsomeglass-frontedshopsthatlookedpromising.ButwhenIgottothem,theywerejustarepairshopandavacantspace.IstillhadtoomuchtimetogolookingforJessandAngelayet,andIdefinitelyneededtogetmymoodinhandbeforeImetbackupwiththem.IranmyfingersthroughmyhairacoupleoftimesandtooksomedeepbreathsbeforeIcontinuedaroundthecorner. Istartedtorealize,asIcrossedanotherroad,thatIwasgoingthewrongdirection.ThelittlefoottrafficIhadseenwasgoingnorth,anditlookedlikethebuildingshereweremostlywarehouses.Idecidedtoturneastatthenextcorner,andthenlooparoundafterafewblocksandtrymyluckonadifferentstreetonmywaybacktotheboardwalk.