WhileIwassittingthere,lookingeverywherebutatthecarinfrontofme,Iheardaknockonmypassengersidewindow.Ilookedover;itwasTyler.Iglancedbackinmyrearviewmirror,confused.Hiscarwasstillrunning,thedoorleftopen.Ileanedacrossthecabtocrankthewindowdown.Itwasstiff.Igotithalfwaydown,thengaveup. "I'msorry,Tyler,I'mstuckbehindCullen."Iwasannoyed—obviouslytheholdupwasn'tmyfault. "Oh,Iknow—Ijustwantedtoaskyousomethingwhilewe'retrappedhere."Hegrinned. Thiscouldnotbehappening. "Willyouaskmetothespringdance?"hecontinued. "I'mnotgoingtobeintown,Tyler."Myvoicesoundedalittlesharp.Ihadtorememberitwasn'thisfaultthatMikeandErichadalreadyusedupmyquotaofpatiencefortheday. "Yeah,Mikesaidthat,"headmitted. "Thenwhy—" Heshrugged. "Iwashopingyouwerejustlettinghimdowneasy." Okay,itwascompletelyhisfault. "Sorry,Tyler,"Isaid,workingtohidemyirritation. "Ireallyamgoingoutoftown." "That'scool.Westillhaveprom." AndbeforeIcouldrespond,hewaswalkingbacktohiscar.Icouldfeeltheshockonmyface.IlookedforwardtoseeAlice,Rosalie,Emmett,andJasperallslidingintotheVolvo.Inhisrearviewmirror,Edward'seyeswereonme.Hewasunquestionablyshakingwithlaughter,asifhe'dheardeverywordTylerhadsaid.Myfootitchedtowardthegaspedal…onelittlebumpwouldn'thurtanyofthem,justthatglossysilverpaintjob.Irevvedtheengine. Buttheywereallin,andEdwardwasspeedingaway.Idrovehomeslowly,carefully,mutteringtomyselfthewholeway. WhenIgothome,Idecidedtomakechickenenchiladasfordinner.Itwasalongprocess,anditwouldkeepmebusy.WhileIwassimmeringtheonionsandchilies,thephonerang.Iwasalmostafraidtoanswerit,butitmightbeCharlieormymom. ItwasJessica,andshewasjubilant;Mikehadcaughtherafterschooltoacceptherinvitation.IcelebratedwithherbrieflywhileIstirred.Shehadtogo,shewantedtocallAngelaandLaurentotellthem.Isuggested—withcasualinnocence—thatmaybeAngela,theshygirlwhohadBiologywithme,couldaskEric.AndLauren,astandoffishgirlwhohadalwaysignoredmeatthelunchtable,couldaskTyler;I'dheardhewasstillavailable.Jessthoughtthatwasagreatidea.NowthatshewassureofMike,sheactuallysoundedsincerewhenshesaidshewishedIwouldgotothedance.IgavehermySeattleexcuse. AfterIhungup,Itriedtoconcentrateondinner—dicingthechickenespecially;Ididn'twanttotakeanothertriptotheemergencyroom.Butmyheadwasspinning,tryingtoanalyzeeverywordEdwardhadspokentoday.Whatdidhemean,itwasbetterifweweren'tfriends? MystomachtwistedasIrealizedwhathemusthavemeant.HemustseehowabsorbedIwasbyhim;hemustnotwanttoleadmeon…sowecouldn'tevenbefriends…becausehewasn'tinterestedinmeatall. Ofcoursehewasn'tinterestedinme,Ithoughtangrily,myeyesstinging—adelayedreactiontotheonions.Iwasn'tinteresting.Andhewas.Interesting…andbrilliant…andmysterious…andperfect…andbeautiful…andpossiblyabletoliftfull-sizedvanswithonehand. Well,thatwasfine.Icouldleavehimalone.Iwouldleavehimalone.Iwouldgetthroughmyself-imposedsentencehereinpurgatory,andthenhopefullysomeschoolintheSouthwest,orpossiblyHawaii,wouldoffermeascholarship.IfocusedmythoughtsonsunnybeachesandpalmtreesasIfinishedtheenchiladasandputthemintheoven. Charlieseemedsuspiciouswhenhecamehomeandsmelledthegreenpeppers.Icouldn'tblamehim—theclosestedibleMexicanfoodwasprobablyinsouthernCalifornia.Buthewasacop,evenifjustasmall-towncop,sohewasbraveenoughtotakethefirstbite.Heseemedtolikeit.Itwasfuntowatchasheslowlybegantrustingmeinthekitchen. "Dad?"Iaskedwhenhewasalmostdone. "Yeah,Bella?" "Um,IjustwantedtoletyouknowthatI'mgoingtoSeattleforthedayaweekfromSaturday…ifthat'sokay?"Ididn'twanttoaskpermission—itsetabadprecedent—butIfeltrude,soItackeditonattheend. "Why?"Hesoundedsurprised,asifhewereunabletoimaginesomethingthatForkscouldn'toffer. "Well,Iwantedtogetfewbooks—thelibraryhereisprettylimited—andmaybelookatsomeclothes."IhadmoremoneythanIwasusedtohaving,since,thankstoCharlie,Ihadn'thadtopayforacar.Notthatthetruckdidn'tcostmequiteabitinthegasdepartment. "Thattruckprobablydoesn'tgetverygoodgasmileage,"hesaid,echoingmythoughts. "Iknow,I'llstopinMontesanoandOlympia—andTacomaifIhaveto." "Areyougoingallbyyourself?"heasked,andIcouldn'ttellifhewassuspiciousIhadasecretboyfriendorjustworriedaboutcartrouble. "Yes." "Seattleisabigcity—youcouldgetlost,"hefretted. "Dad,PhoenixisfivetimesthesizeofSeattle—andIcanreadamap,don'tworryaboutit." "Doyouwantmetocomewithyou?" ItriedtobecraftyasIhidmyhorror. "That'sallright,Dad,I'llprobablyjustbeindressingroomsallday—veryboring." "Oh,okay."Thethoughtofsittinginwomen'sclothingstoresforanyperiodoftimeimmediatelyputhimoff. "Thanks."Ismiledathim. "Willyoubebackintimeforthedance?" Grrr.Onlyinatownthissmallwouldafatherknowwhenthehighschooldanceswere. "No—Idon'tdance,Dad."He,ofallpeople,shouldunderstandthat—Ididn'tgetmybalanceproblemsfrommymother. Hedidunderstand. "Oh,that'sright,"herealized.