I gazed out the side window of Edythe's Volvo, at the gray blanket of clouds hovering overhead. They were so thick it was impossible to tell if the sun had set or not.
After spending the last half of the day in a plane, chasing the sun westward, it felt odd—like we'd crossed over into a zone where time was standing still. I was a bit surprised when the thick forest lining the road on either side of us finally gave way to the first buildings, signaling we were just about home.
I felt Edythe reach over and take my hand, her cool fingers sliding over top of mine.
"I thought it went pretty well, didn't you?" she said softly.
I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. She seemed to take to you well enough. But I knew she would."
Edythe had actually met my mom once before—when I had supposedly tripped and fallen down a flight of stairs at a hotel, and was in the hospital with a multitude of lacerations and a few broken bones. But considering this was the first time she had met my mom after the disastrous events last winter when Edythe had left Forks, she had been anxious how my mom would react to her. I had known she was worrying over nothing, and I'd been right.
Edythe turned her eyes to meet mine, and I knew it was useless to tell her to keep her eyes on the road.
"I suppose it was hard for you to leave," she murmured. "Being with your mother again...it must have made you think of old times. Your old life. She was certainly thinking about it."
I nodded slowly. However, at Edythe's concerned expression, I felt I had to add, "The life I have here in Forks is my life now. That's how I want it. My mom is really the only thing I miss about my old life. But she's okay without me—she's got Phil."
I shook my head and smiled a bit. "To be honest, I'm glad we kept the visit short. She was making me kind of nervous. My mom might seem totally clueless a lot of the time, but she can be sharper than she looks. She...sees things. Notices things."
Edythe nodded. "She has an interesting mind, your mother. Childlike in some ways, but undeniably insightful in others."
I nodded absently, still gazing out the car window. Edythe was definitely right about that.
Phil had been busy while we'd been there, the high school baseball team he coached being in the playoffs, and so most of the weekend it had just been the three of us, me, Edythe, and my mom. It hadn't taken long after my mom had finished exclaiming with delight and squeezing the life out of my lungs for her to start seeing things, falling into some of her rare pensive silences as she studied us, and before long I was apprehensive of whatever was going through her mind.
It wasn't until this morning she had finally said some of what she was thinking. We'd set out for a walk along the beach—Edythe had fabricated a term paper so she'd have an excuse to stay indoors during the day, and she stayed behind, also offering to get breakfast ready for us when we got back, so it was just the two of us, just like old times.
The bright sun was shining in a clear blue sky, and though it was morning it was already so warm that we tried to keep close to the slender shadows of the palm trees, which swayed lightly in a gentle breeze. The humidity made it hard to breathe, but the warmth was a welcome change from the dreary cold and rain I was used to. As we walked, my mom pointed out the glorious sights of the warm beach and lazily rolling ocean waves, and I figured she was still holding out hope to tempt me back from Forks. However, I knew her well enough to know there was something else on her mind.
We meandered around aimlessly for a while, just enjoying the warmth and the sights, until my mom finally wound her way around to the point.
"Beau...there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. Before you go back to Forks, I mean."
"What about, Mom?" My hands were in my pockets, and my gaze followed hers, which was directed out at a buoy bobbing in the distance.
She turned back to look at me, and her brow was crinkled above her wide blue eyes. "I'm concerned about you, Beau. You and Edythe. I guess...I just didn't quite realize how serious this was."
I glanced away. "Mom," I muttered. "Come on." I wondered if now she was planning to give me a lecture on responsibility, too. My mom had always been pretty candid about things like intimacy and sex, even though I hadn't always exactly welcomed it, but somehow actually having a girlfriend now made it more embarrassing. However, the funny thing was, I didn't think Edythe and I had done anything particularly telling over the weekend. We had barely even touched.
My mom smiled a little, as though she knew the kind of responsibility lecture I was thinking about and wanted to laugh at me. However, her expression turned serious again.
"What I mean is, Beau, when I see the two of you together...there's just something unusual about it, that's all. I've seen my share of teenage girls head-over-heels in love—heaven knows, I've been one myself. But your Edythe is different from any other girl I've ever met. She's very mature, definitely not the giggly type. But the way she watches you...follows you...I keep getting this feeling like all the thoughts in her mind are oriented around you, always calculating how to ensure that you are safe, and that all your endeavors succeed."
I didn't quite meet her eyes. "I don't know if it's that extreme, but Edythe has always supported me. I don't see anything bad in that. I want to try to support her, too."
My mom shook her head. "No, I wouldn't call it bad...it's just unusual. There's such an intensity about it. Not just her, but you, too—I can tell, Beau, you're very serious about this girl. You've changed in that short year and a half since you lived with me. You seem more sure of yourself."
"Really?" This honestly surprised me. If anything, I'd always thought being around Edythe had only increased my feelings of inadequacy. Then again, she was probably right—before I met Edythe, I just kind of drifted through life, not really sure what I wanted, or if there was really anything to want. Now I knew exactly, and I was ready to pursue it to the end.
My mom nodded, then sighed. "I don't know how to say it—like I said, when I see you two together, I see such an intensity. I feel like I can't get a grasp on your relationship." She paused for a minute, thoughtful. She added, slowly, "I...keep getting this odd feeling. Like I'm looking at a puzzle, and I'm missing some critical piece of it."
I tried to think of how to reply. Somehow I always forgot just how perceptive my mom could be. I guess something about the simple way she saw the world allowed her to cut through all the distractions and get right to the heart, and at the moment she was dancing, just on the periphery of the truth. She was able to see something other people missed—that there was something strange about us. That there was a secret beneath the smokescreen of normalcy we did our best to project.
At last, I shoved my hands into my pockets and smiled a little. "Well, it's true that Edythe isn't like any other girl, Mom. There's nothing weird about me falling hard for her." I added, "As for her choosing me, I'm still trying to figure that one out myself."
My mom laughed, linking her arm through mine and ruffling my hair. "Well, that's not a mystery. My handsome, hardworking, responsible, loyal son. You're quite a catch."
Her brow furrowed again for a moment, studying my face.
I looked back at her, not allowing myself to blink, carefully controlling my expression.
After a moment, her face relaxed. "I'm probably imaging things," she decided. "Maybe I've just forgotten how extreme teenage love can be. I am getting quite along in years now."
I laughed, relieved, but I was surprised to feel just a twinge of disappointment, too. Not so long ago, I'd been closer to my mom than to anyone else in the world—close enough that I knew pretty much all of her secrets, and she had so mastered the art of reading my face that she pretty much knew most of mine too, or at least the important ones. Now, she had hit upon something actually dangerously close to the truth. While I knew she could never be allowed to know, for her own sake as well as that of my soon-to-be new family, I felt just a bit of a letdown, at how quickly she talked herself out of her keen thoughts.
"You're not old," I said. "You're what—thirty-eight now?"
"Thirty-seven," she said, trying to hold back a smile and not quite succeeding.
"Right," I said, grinning. "Young enough to still have kids."
She looked startled for a moment, before her expression shifted to a look that was somehow simultaneously delighted and terrified.
"Oh no," she said quickly. "No, we—that is to say—I think one perfect son is more than enough...I mean..."
She trailed off, and was flustered enough she had forgotten all about her embarrassment over her earlier speculations. I smiled, satisfied. My mom was easy to distract, and I had a particular knack for it.
We talked some more about Jacksonville, my mom teasing me again by grandly pointing out the glittering white sands and deep blue ocean waves gently lapping the shore, and dropping a few sly disparaging remarks about climates with more rain than sunshine. I made a few deft counterstrokes about the humidity and the rising prices of sunscreen. We both laughed and joked like old times as we headed back to her car.
Other than her vague worries about me and Edythe, my mom seemed happy enough, which I was glad of. She seemed happy with Phil, doing things she wanted to do and enjoyed. I hoped that meant she wasn't missing me too much.
The gentle touch of Edythe's icy fingertips against my cheek brought me back to the present. I sat up, and was surprised to see we were already in front of Charlie's house. The porch light was on, and the cruiser was parked in the driveway. I saw the curtain in the window twitch, casting a line of yellow light across the dark lawn. Apparently Charlie was waiting up for me. I wondered if I should mentally prepare myself to get reamed this evening, or for another glacial cold war against Russia.
I wondered if Edythe was thinking the same thing, because as she followed me to the house, she kept herself a little apart, not touching.
"Give it to me straight," I muttered out of the side of my mouth. "What's going to happen when we walk in that door?"
Edythe didn't immediately answer, and when I turned to her, I saw her face was unusually serious.
I paused in midstep. "What is it?" I said, uneasy.
"Nothing," she said evenly. She forced her eyes, which had been focused on the house, to shift to me. "Don't worry, he's not going to attack you. He...really missed you."
Edythe's face was smooth and blank as a mask, without a trace of humor. If anything, her reassurances only made me feel a greater sense of foreboding. However, we were here, and as I figured there was no way around whatever was about to happen, I only shrugged and started walking again.
Before I could get out my key, the door opened, and Charlie was standing there in the entryway. He was grinning hugely, his entire face lit up. As I stumbled over the entryway, he drew me into a hug.
"Welcome back, kid," he said with real warmth. He held me back to arm's length to have a look at me. "How was Jacksonville?"
I was too surprised by this reception to respond at first. At last, I shrugged. "Kind of like a trip to the Amazon. Humidity, a hundred and seven percent. And I think an insectologist would be in heaven there."
Charlie shepherded us toward the kitchen, still grinning from ear to ear. "So Renée didn't sell you on the University of Florida?"
I shook my head. "Not for a lack of trying, though."
Charlie's eyes went briefly to Edythe, and his usually glacial tone was almost warm as he asked, "And what about you? You have a nice time?"
"Yes," Edythe replied serenely. "I got to know Renée a little better. Beau is lucky to have a mother like her."
"True," Charlie agreed, almost buoyant. He turned away from Edythe to look at me again. He paused for a moment.
"Really good to have you back, kid," he said at last, a little sheepishly. He gripped my shoulder and gave it an affectionate shake. "For one thing, the food really sucks when you're not around."
I grinned and laughed a little as he let go. "Guess I better get on that then."
I had turned to head the rest of the way into the kitchen when Charlie said, "Before that, why don't you give Julie Black a call? She's been calling the house every five minutes since six this morning, demanding to know when you'd be back. I promised I'd make you call her the moment you got home."
I didn't know how to respond for a moment. I could feel Edythe right behind me, perfectly still, colder than usual. So this was why she'd been so tense.
"She's been calling to talk to me?" I said at last, uncertain.
Charlie nodded. "Must be pretty important, whatever it is, but she wouldn't tell me what."
The phone suddenly rang, ringing in my ears, shrill and loud.
"Probably her again," Charlie said.
"Right." I stepped into the kitchen and hurried over to the phone. Charlie disappeared into the living room, but Edythe followed silently behind me like a ghost.
I grabbed the phone off the receiver in mid-ring, then turned around to face the wall as I put it to my ear. "Hello?"
"You're back," Jules said.
The familiar sound of her distinct, slightly husky voice seemed to suddenly jerk me back in time. Images like an old film flickered through my mind—a rocky beach strewn with driftwood, a garage made of plastic sheds filled with bits of old rusted motorcycles, warm sodas in a paper bag. Laughter in dark eyes, as we worked to plot conspiracy and rebellion.
A powerful wave of some emotion I couldn't fully identify crashed over me. It was like—melancholy? Regret?
My thoughts went briefly back to my mom, and I realized I thought I knew what it was. I felt—homesick. That was the word. Jules had seen me through a dark time, and the garage and the too-small house she shared with Bonnie had been like a second home to me—maybe more of a home than my own, filled as my own had been with painful memories. Now I suddenly had the strangest, powerful longing to go back there, and see my best friend again.
I had to swallow hard to clear my throat. "Yeah," I said, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice.
"Why didn't you call me?" she demanded.
Her aggressive tone pulled me out of my sentimental mood, and abruptly everything felt completely normal, as though we had just spoken yesterday, rather than weeks ago. I grinned a bit, and said with a little exasperation, "Maybe because I just walked in the door about five seconds ago, and your call just interrupted Charlie trying to tell me you called."
"Oh," she said, a little sheepishly. "Sorry."
"Any particular reason you've been harassing my dad all day?"
"I just needed to ask you something."
"Go for it."
There was a short pause.
"Are you going to school tomorrow?"
I was incredulous. "That was the super important thing you needed to talk to me about? Seriously? Course I am. Why wouldn't I?"
"Just wondering," Jules muttered.
I sighed. "I know there's something else. Just spit it out."
Jules hesitated. "It's nothing...nothing really. I guess I just sort of needed to hear your voice."
I didn't answer for a moment. The homesickness was suddenly like a live animal, clawing at my stomach and crushing my throat. I knew what she meant—I knew what it was like to be depressed, and just need to talk to someone. Just a few short months ago, that had been me.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm glad you called, Jules. I..." I trailed off. I wanted to tell her I was coming to see her. I wanted go straight down to La Push and make sure she was okay, and make her laugh like old times. But...
Even though I didn't turn to look, I could feel Edythe standing behind me, still as a statue, watching me.
The line was silent for a moment. Then Jules said abruptly, "I've got to go. Sorry, Beau, I'll talk to you later. Soon, I promise."
"Wait," I stuttered. "Why do you—"
"See you," she breathed, and before I could say any more, the line clicked off, leaving me listening to the dial tone, buzzing in my ear. I stared down at the phone in my hand in disbelief.
"Well, that was weird," I muttered.
"Is everything all right?" Edythe asked, her tone mild, but careful.
I hesitated, then turned slowly to meet her gaze. Her expression was smooth, unreadable.
I shrugged. "I'm not sure, honestly. I don't know what she wanted."
I distractedly went about getting dinner made, pulling ingredients from the fridge and setting them out on the counter, though my thoughts were still back at La Push. Edythe stood by the counter, watching my face carefully, but I barely noticed.
I wondered why Jules had called. Been so urgent, broken weeks of silence and ignoring my calls to get a hold of me—only to say barely anything at all. She'd asked me if I was going to school, but that was it. I had missed the previous Friday in order to visit my mom, and though Charlie hadn't been all that happy about it I'd convinced him that one day wasn't going to mess up my academic career, but I really doubted Jules cared much about my studies. From the start of our trip to the finish, I'd only been gone three days.
I froze where I was, eyes wide, the fridge door hanging open and a package of hamburger half pulled from the hamper.
Edythe saw the shock in my face, and was immediately at my side, a steadying hand at my back. "What is it?" she said softly. "What's wrong?"
I shook my head, trying to shake off the sudden numbness I felt spreading through me.
Three days. That was the time it took for a human to undergo the excruciating transformation into a vampire. New vampires were crazy with thirst, and I knew when my time came, I wouldn't be able to be around people, let alone go to school.
Maybe Charlie had mentioned to Bonnie that I had left for three days, and Jules had been suddenly overcome with the fear that...maybe I was already...
"Beau?" Edythe was peering up at me, a cool hand resting on my arm. "Beau, are you all right?"
I shook my head. I muttered in a low voice, "I think...I think maybe she was checking. To make sure I'm still human."
Edythe's eyes hardened slightly, and I felt her hand holding my arm tighten.
I suddenly found myself thinking about the treaty. If Edythe had changed me while we were away, that would have broken it. Before we did it, Edythe and I would have to get away from here, so we didn't start a war. We wouldn't ever be able to come back.
I did my best to focus on dinner, as I felt Edythe's concerned eyes follow me.
"If I asked you to do something, would you trust me?" Edythe asked. There was a definite edge to her soft voice.
We were just about to school. Edythe had seemed perfectly relaxed a second ago, but now her delicate hands were clenched around the steering wheel, like she might twist it in two.
I felt my own heart rate speed up in response to the tension in her face, but I said, "That depends."
We pulled into the school parking lot, and Edythe grumbled something inaudibly to herself.
"What exactly do you want me to do?" I asked, eying her suspiciously.
"If you could, I'd like you to stay in the car a minute." She pulled into our usual spot and turned off the engine. "Please, Beau. I will come back for you."
Edythe had tried to tell me to do this once before, when she had been seriously considering going back to kill a few crazy druggies who'd tried to kill me. I found myself reaching over to grab her arm in reflex.
"Why?" I asked cautiously.
Edythe stared back at me, as always unwilling to pull away when I didn't let go. Her mouth tightened slightly and she didn't answer. However, she didn't have to.
As I stared at her, my gaze briefly shifted to the crowds outside, and that was when I saw her.
She stood with her arms folded, leaning against her black motorcycle, which was parked illegally on the sidewalk. On all sides of her, students were giving her a wide berth.
"Jules," I breathed.
"Apparently you were wrong yesterday," Edythe muttered. "The reason she wanted to know if you'd be in school was that she knew I'd be where you were. She wanted to talk to me—in a safe place, with witnesses."
"Huh," I muttered. I'd been pretty far off the mark.
I realized, childishly, that I was a little stung, especially as I studied her face, and recognized the smooth, impassivity of the cool face she always wore when she was keeping herself in check. It made her look a little like Samantha, the leader of the wolves, not like herself. Here, I was seeing Jules again, but it wasn't the Jules that was my best friend, but the Jules who was a cold imitation of Sam. A Jules who had come here to talk to Edythe, probably on behalf of the pack, not to me.
Wordlessly, I let go of Edythe, then turned and shoved open the car door.
Edythe grumbled something that sounded like an oath under her breath, then climbed out after me.
Jules gazed at us coldly as we approached, Edythe keeping a little in front of me.
I realized that we had an audience. Plenty of the students had stopped to gape, most of their eyes riveted on Jules. The sleeves of her black shirt were sheared off despite the unseasonably cool weather, and her jeans were ragged and grease-smeared. Her lean, muscles arms were folded, and she was leaning casually against her black motorcycle. Everyone was keeping their distance, and no one made eye contact.
It suddenly occurred to me that Jules probably looked like a pretty hardcore delinquent. The thought almost made me laugh.
Edythe came to a stop, keeping a few yards between Jules and us. She took a casual step to the side, so that I was further behind her and to signal me to stop walking.
"You could have simply called," Edythe said, on the surface her voice light, but with an unmistakable edge of steel.
Jules's mouth twisted into a sneer. "Too bad I don't have any leeches on my speed dial." She went on in a mockingly upbeat, peppy voice, "I know, why don't you and I exchange phone numbers? Then I can call you if I ever need advice on how to do my nails—or how to rip people's throats out."
"I think this is hardly the time or the place for this discussion," Edythe said in a low, hard voice. Her eyes flickered over the parking lot meaningfully.
As far as I could tell, no one was quite within hearing range, but plenty of people, many I knew, had paused to watch whatever was going on, as though hoping something would happen to alleviate the usual morning boredom. I saw Taylor Crowley whisper something into Aubrey Marks's ear. From Jules's posture and Edythe's careful stance in front of me, the hostility was probably palpable clear across the parking lot.
"Anyway," Edythe said. "I already know what you came here to say. Consider us warned."
Edythe took my hand, turning in the direction of the school, tugging me slightly forward, though she had to angle us a little to avoid passing too close to Jules, who was standing directly in our path.
I took a couple of steps, then stopped. I glanced at Jules again. "Warn? Warn them about what?"
"Nothing," Edythe said. She pulled on my hand again, but I didn't move.
Jules's dark eyes were narrow, darting between us. "Wait," she began. "You didn't tell him? He doesn't know?"
"There's nothing to tell," Edythe said evenly.
"What's going on?" I said, looking between them. "What don't I know? Edythe?"
Edythe didn't look at me. She'd turned again to face Jules, and she was glaring.
I turned to Jules. "What is it? What happened?"
"Nothing," Jules said, in a high, mocking imitation of Edythe. "Except that one of them crossed the line last Saturday night. Paula was a bit ticked. Had a right to be, if you ask me."
"It was no-man's land," Edythe hissed in a low, icy voice. "Eleanor didn't cross the line."
"Says you," sneered Jules, though I noticed her fists were clenched and shaking slightly with anger.
My head spun as I tried to process what I was hearing. "Are you saying..." I began slowly. "Eleanor and Paula got into a fight?" I felt the sweat break out on my palms. "What happened?" I demanded. "Is Paula okay?"
"No one fought," Edythe said quietly, reassuringly. "No one got hurt. Don't worry."
Jules was staring at me with growing incredulity.
"You really didn't tell him anything, did you? Is that what that little weekend trip was all about? To keep him in the dark about—"
"I think you should leave," Edythe said sharply. "Right now." There was no longer even the pretense of politeness in her voice. She gazed back at Jules with undisguised loathing, a dangerous look in her eyes.
Jules didn't move, and her only response was to raise her eyebrows a little. "Someone has to tell him," she said.
They stared back at each other in silence for a long minute, each trying to glare the other down. I noticed a few other people had stopped behind Taylor and Aubrey. Allen was there, too, looking worried, along with McKayla and Becca, who were looking at each other with raised eyebrows.
I stared back at Jules, and I could feel my mind spinning. They had been right there, at the border between the Cullens' land and the Quileutes' land, too close together—closer than they would normally be by choice. But why? Why would they be there? Unless...
Unless...
My stomach dropped.
I knew very suddenly what Archie had seen in that vision at lunch, and why Edythe had been so desperate to get me out of Forks.
It wasn't until I felt Edythe's arm around my back, supporting my weight, that I realized I had staggered back a step. I felt chills on my skin, and a cold sweat had broken out on my face. I felt like I was going to be sick.
I had really only seen his face one time—Victor, Joss's mate. But still it was burned into my mind. His stealthy, cat-like walk, his flaming red hair. And most of all, his dark, blood red eyes.
After his former coven-mate, Lauren, had nearly murdered me, for a while I had lived in dread of the moment he would come for me. Torture me and kill me, as Lauren had said he would, as revenge on Edythe for Joss's death. The nightmares still cropped up in my dreams, even now—I knew firsthand what it was like to be tortured by a vampire. And what was more, I knew that, as long as Victor was out there, my human friends and family were in danger, too.
"See what you've done," Edythe hissed in a low, accusing voice, her eyes on Jules. I felt her hands gently caressing mine, soothing, reassuring.
"He has a right to know," Jules insisted.
"There was no point," Edythe murmured furiously, her mouth barely moving. "There was never any danger. He didn't need to know. Can you even comprehend how—how frightening these things can be to a human?"
Jules shrugged, and her expression was hard. "Better scared than lied to."
An involuntary shiver wracked my spine, and my eyes darted restlessly about the parking lot, as though Victor might be there, lurking in the shadow of the trees. I felt Edythe squeeze my hand, and she pressed her lips to my cheek.
"It's okay," she murmured, so low I barely caught the words. "It's okay. Don't worry, everything is fine."
Her eyes returned to Jules and they were cold. She said in a low, harsh voice, "You're only bringing him unnecessary pain and suffering—can't you see that, you mongrel? He doesn't need this. He has enough to worry about without—"
"—without telling him the truth about what's actually been going on," Jules interrupted, and she was beginning to look really angry now, her lip pulled back from her teeth, her dark eyes flashing.
Edythe started to say something, but Jules went on, talking over her.
"Look, leech, Beau's doesn't need you or anyone else sugarcoating and hiding things to keep him in some safe little insulated bubble of sunshine. Yes, Beau freaks out about things—that's how he is. But don't treat him like he's some delicate little princess who needs you to shield him. He's been through a lot worse than this—I would know."
Jules paused, and for a moment, her expression turned thoughtful.
Edythe had opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly she stiffened. Her eyes widened, and her face turned bone white.
A hint of a smile played on Jules's lips. "What's wrong?" she taunted softly. "Didn't like that thought? What about this one, then?"
Edythe's head bent, her eyes wide and her face contorting as though with some indescribable torture. She gritted her teeth.
My mind suddenly flashed back to a dim, circular room halfway around the world. The Volturi guard Jonathan had turned his haunting eyes on Edythe, and for a moment she had been utterly incapacitated by the terrible power—Jonathan's power to cause pain with his thoughts alone. The look on her face, twisted in agony, was forever seared into my memory.
For a moment I forgot all about Victor, and I grabbed Edythe by the arm, afraid she would collapse as she had back then.
"Edythe," I called, hardly able to keep the panic from my voice. "Edythe, what's wrong?"
Instead of responding, Edythe took a breath, briefly closing her eyes and forcing her brow to smooth. However, when she opened them again, I could still feel the tension in the the tense skin around her eyes.
I spun on Jules, my free hand clenching into a fist. I said forcefully, "Whatever you're doing, cut it out."
"It's nothing," Edythe said, holding my hand between hers. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."
"Yeah," Jules agreed. "Don't worry about it, Beau." She tapped her temple. "I've just got a few things stored up here that just sort of...came to mind. If she doesn't like it, that's her problem. Maybe it'll teach her not to go rummaging around in other people's heads."
I glared at her. "Cut it out, Jules," I repeated, slowly and dangerously. "Right now."
Jules shrugged and grinned impishly, unfazed by my anger. She gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir, whatever you say, sir."
Edythe squeezed my hand, and she said in a low voice, "The principal's on her way to discourage loitering on school property. Let's go before we're involved."
"Yeah," Jules called after me, "get to class like a perfect, model student. Bet that's what your life consists of now—following the rules, staying indoors, shuffling along at a slow, steady pace so you never risk stubbing your toe. Listen, if you ever decide you want to have fun again, you can always come see me. I've still got your motorcycle in the garage."
This distracted me and I stopped walking again. "You said you were going to sell that." If Charlie had gotten his way, the motorcycle would have gone into a dumpster somewhere halfway to the state line. Possibly on fire. But I'd convinced him after all the work Jules had put in on it, she deserved to get something back for it.
Jules shrugged carelessly. "Yeah, well, I couldn't get rid of something that wasn't mine, could I? It's yours. So it'll be there, until you decide you want it again."
She smiled a little then, her real smile that I knew.
I felt some of my anger fade. "Jules," I began, my voice low with emotion, though I wasn't sure what I wanted to say.
Jules leaned forward, dropping the mask of bitter mockery, and for just a moment she was herself again, almost apologetic. "You know, Beau, I've been thinking a lot. I think I was wrong, what I said before. We are still friends—or at least, we can be. On my side of the line. Just drop by again sometime."
I hesitated. Edythe's cold hand was closed tightly around mine, and she'd angled herself so she stood between Jules and me again.
"I don't know," I said slowly, not sure what else to say, and wishing I could say something else. Yeah, we'll always be friends no matter what. Sure, I'll come down any day. But, I didn't have that choice.
The hostility in Jules's face was completely gone now—the way she was when it was just the two of us, and there were no vampires around. It was as though she had forgotten Edythe was there. Her eyes were sincere, earnest.
"It sucks when you're not around, Beau," she said quietly. "Really sucks. Everything's just so boring, and..." Her voice caught unexpectedly and she looked away, blinking rapidly.
I had to clench my hand in a fist to keep myself from reaching out to her. "I know, Jules," I began, sighing. "I know, but..."
Jules sucked a deep breath through her nose and got a hold of herself. She forced a smile. "Never mind then. I'll survive. Freaks of nature don't really need friends."
I couldn't answer. If anything, the painful smile made me feel sicker than ever. I needed to do something—anything. How could I just leave a friend of mine like this, after everything she had done for me? I was a jerk, a failure. I wanted to just walk the few yards to her and, even if I couldn't tell her I would come to see her and everything would be just like it was, at least put a hand on her shoulder. Let her know somehow that I was still here for her.
But Edythe's cold fingers were still gripping mine, holding me in place.
"All right," said a sharp, authoritative voice behind us. "That's enough. Everyone move along, it's time for class. You, too, Ms. Crowley."
Edythe started pulling me along again, keeping me behind her, but by that time Ms. Greene, the school principle, had already pushed through the crowd of spectators, and zeroed in on us. Her thin brows pushed together above her sharp spectacles, which glinted ominously in the dim, overcast sky as she made a beeline straight for us. As she walked, she called loud enough for everyone to hear, "Detention for anyone still standing here in the next four seconds."
The crowd had already dispersed before she'd even finished speaking, though I saw plenty of shared looks and furtive glances back at us.
"Is there a problem here?" she asked in a clipped voice, eyes flickering from each of our faces in turn.
"No, no problem, Ms. Greene," Edythe said, dipping her head politely. "We were just on our way to class."
Ms. Greene turned her hawk-like eyes on Jules, taking in her sheared off sleeves, rebellious, slouching posture, and the motorcycle propped up nearby, and I could only guess what conclusions she was forming.
"I don't remember seeing you here before," she said, eyes narrowed. "Are you a new student?"
"Not really, no." Jules was half smirking as she spoke, and she leaned back lazily against her motorcycle.
Ms. Greene did not take well to either insolent tones or sass, and she said sharply, "Then I advise you to remove yourself from this property at once, before I am forced to call the police to have you forcibly removed."
Jules was really grinning now as though this was a fine joke, and I knew she was imagining Charlie showing up to arrest her. However, the bitter, mocking quality was back in her face.
She put up both hands in surrender. "Yes, Ma'am." Then she swung a long leg over the bike and kicked it to a start right there on the sidewalk. The engine snarled and the tires squealed, and in a moment, she was long out of sight.
Ms. Greene gazed out after the place Jules had gone with her lips pursed in a thin line, her face a mask of severe disapproval.
"Miss Cullen, do you know that young lady?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Edythe answered. "But only a little."
"Well, if you see her again, please let her know I do not want to see her trespassing here again. I don't want to have to get the police involved, but I certainly will if I have to."
"I will pass that along," Edythe said, as her narrowed eyes also followed the place Jules had gone.
Edythe towed me along toward the English building. When we were past Ms. Greene and alone again, she pressed a cool hand to my forehead, then to my cheek, and looked up at me anxiously.
"Are you okay?" she asked in a low voice. "Do you feel well enough to go to class?"
"I'm fine," I said. I felt a knot of tension forming at the base of my neck, but I didn't care. There were about a million questions I needed to ask her—but as I heard the click of Ms. Greene's high-heeled shoes as she followed us into the building, I knew it would have to wait until English.
We got to class a little late and we took our usual seats at the back quickly. Mrs. Berty was reciting a Frost poem, and she didn't break her rhythm to acknowledge us, which worked for me.
As soon as we were sat down, I seized a notebook from my bag and scribbled so fast the words were barely legible.
What happened?
I tore out the page and slipped it over to Edythe, though I kept my eyes on the front of the room.
I heard her sigh slightly beside me, and less than a minute later the paper was back on my desk, now filled with a paragraph of writing in her perfect calligraphy.
Archie had a vision Victor was coming back. I thought it would be better if you were out of town, but really there was never any danger. Eleanor and Jessamine nearly had him, but Victor—we think it must have somehow been intentional—escaped right down the Quileute boundary line. Archie's powers were nullified by the Quileutes' involvement. The big gray wolf thought Eleanor stepped over the line, and she got territorial. Then naturally Royal got involved, and so all the attention was on each other instead of Victor. Carine and Jessamine got things cooled down before it came to a fight, but in the meantime, Victor escaped. We very well might have had him if not for the Quileutes' interference, though to be fair, the reverse may also be true. That's everything.
I frowned down at the words on the page. So, I'd been the only one out of the loop. While I was obliviously chilling out in Florida, my two families had been putting themselves in danger, and very nearly gotten into a fight. If they had, and someone got hurt, even killed, I would have had no idea—not until long after the fact.
I scrubbed out the message, almost angrily, and scribbled, What about Charlie?
Edythe wrote back, He was never in any danger. If Victor was after him, Archie would have known it. He was in no more danger than you would have been. We only got you out as a precaution. You're the one Victor is after, not Charlie.
I shook my head. I felt queasy, thinking about Victor, but I felt even more sick knowing I'd been away and unwittingly left Charlie here by himself, potentially to face Victor alone.
I looked at Edythe for a long time. I didn't think I'd ever given Edythe an order before—I wasn't that kind of guy. But as I scrubbed out Edythe's words, I wrote a new note—this time, slowly and deliberately, making sure every letter was clear and in bold. Finally, I struck a vicious underline under the entire thing at the end, and handed it over.
You will tell me next time.
Edythe glanced down at it, then lifted her eyes to gaze back at me for a long moment. I wasn't sure what my face looked like. Whether it was angry or cold or disappointed, or if there was no expression at all—maybe because I wasn't sure myself what I was feeling at the moment.
At last, Edythe nodded once.
I smiled a little. I reached over to take her hand, and she smiled back. Then I did my best to turn my attention back up to the lecture, even as my troubled thoughts continued to churn through my mind.
It wasn't until I got to Calculus, my one class I didn't have with Edythe, that I overheard some of the conversation that was apparently going around the school.
As I sat down, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the girls a few seats over had their heads together, whispering in low voices.
"Yeah, I know her," McKayla was saying, very quietly. "If you've been to the beach down at La Push, you've probably seen her before. Julie Black. She's a friend of Beau's."
"Apparently not of Edythe's, though," Taylor put in, also keeping her voice down. "I seriously thought she was going to go over there and paste Edythe to the parking lot."
"Wonder what her problem was?" said Becca, shaking her head.
McKayla gave a dry, humorless laugh. "I think that part's pretty easy to figure out."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw her turn a meaningful look in my direction.
I got out my calculus book and pretended to study it carefully. They couldn't seem to tell that I could hear them.
"Either way," whispered Becca. "It was a good thing Ms. Greene showed up when she did. I wouldn't have wanted to see anything happen to Edythe."
"I don't know," McKayla said slowly. "I think Edythe is stronger than she looks. You know that day last year? When Beau got sick and I had to take him to the nurse? Edythe practically carried him there. And she's tricky—she doesn't seem like the type to fight fair." After a moment, she added under her breath, "Not that I wouldn't like to see someone take Edythe Cullen down a peg..."
Becca shot McKayla a shocked look. "You don't mean that."
"Sure she does," Taylor chipped in. "And I second that."
"Come on you guys," said Becca, looking between the two of them, getting agitated now.
McKayla shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it. I doubt anyone can get the best of Edythe Cullen."
"Edythe didn't seem like she liked that Black girl any more than she liked her, did she?" said Aubrey in a low voice. "She's always so polite, but the look on her face was downright nasty."
"Like I said, that girl from La Push is a friend of Beau's," McKayla said, in a lower voice still. "You know those months when the Cullens were gone...they were together all the time. And apparently their dads were old friends."
"In other words," Taylor whispered in a delighted voice, "Edythe considers her a threat."
"Come on, guys," Becca said nervously. "You know there's no competition. Beau only likes Edythe."
The others ignored her and Aubrey said excitedly, "Who are you rooting for?"
"Gangster girl, definitely," Taylor said.
"Come on, guys," Becca pleaded again, without success. She turned to McKayla. "Edythe is nice to everyone."
McKayla hesitated, considering. At last she said, murmuring almost to herself, "She is...always nice. Too nice. You can never tell what she's thinking. She's just the kind of girl who will smile to your face, but then stab you in the back."
"You don't really think that," Becca whispered.
McKayla continued as if Becca hadn't spoken. "I met that Julie Black girl once. She's the most obnoxious person you'll ever meet—but she does care about Beau. I'll give her that. I think she understands him. So...my vote goes to her."
Becca tried to get another word in, but McKayla deftly turned the gossip to other topics then.
I kept my eyes on my calculus, and tried to concentrate on the problems on the worksheet. However, I doubted I'd be getting much done this period.