This was all quite normal, usually easy to ignore. I was used to the way that scent made me feel-the dry ache in my throat, the hollow yearn in my stomach, the automatic tightening of my muscles, the excess flow of venom in my mouth. The heaters blew her scent in our direction. She tossed her short, sandy hair, running her fingers through it. Their instincts told them what their conscious minds would never understand: we were dangerous.Īt that moment, a small girl paused at the end of the closest table to ours, stopping to talk to a friend.
A little uncomfortable occasionally-if a human walked too close, if the wind blew the wrong way. That was not an immensely difficult time span for the rest of us. It had been two weeks since our last hunting trip. Was it really necessary to experiment like this? Wouldn't the safer path be to just admit that he might never be able to handle the thirst the way the rest of us could, and not push his limits? Why flirt with disaster? I didn't enjoy listening to Jasper's struggles. What would I say? 'My pleasure'? It was hardly that. I moved only my eyes, up to the ceiling above, and back down. I turned my head slowly to the left, as if looking at the bricks of the wall, sighed, and then to the right, back to the cracks in the ceiling. Is there any danger? She searched ahead, into the immediate future, skimming through visions of monotony for the source behind my frown. I could easily be frowning out of boredom.Īlice's mental tone was alarmed now, and I saw in her mind that she was watching Jasper in her peripheral vision. I frowned, just a small change in the set of my mouth. I kept my eyes on the lines in the plaster. Alice and I were good at these private conversations. I was glad my given name had fallen out of style lately-it had been annoying anytime anyone thought of any Edward, my head would turn automatically.
It was just the same as having my name called aloud. Alice called my name in her head, and had my attention at once. If Rosalie's mind was a shallow pool, then Emmett's was a lake with no shadows, glass clear.Īnd Jasper was.suffering. Perhaps I only felt guilty reading the others' minds because I knew there were things there that they wouldn't want me to know. I never really felt intrusive hearing Emmett's thoughts, because he never thought one thing that he would not say aloud or put into action. It would take all his limited patience to make it to the end of the school day to orchestrate a rematch. Rosalie's mind was a shallow pool with few surprises.Įmmett was fuming over a wrestling match he'd lost to Jasper during the night. She'd caught sight of her profile in the reflection off someone's glasses, and she was mulling over her own perfection. Rosalie was thinking, as usual, about herself. I tried not to listen if I could help it. Only four voices did I block out of courtesy rather than distaste: my family, my two brothers and two sisters, who were so used to the lack of privacy in my presence that they rarely gave it a thought. Half the sheep-like males were already imagining themselves in love with her, just because she was something new to look at. The excitement over her arrival was tiresomely predictable-like flashing a shiny object at a child. I'd seen the new face repeated in thought after thought from every angle. Today, all thoughts were consumed with the trivial drama of a new addition to the small student body here. When it came to the human mind, I'd heard it all before and then some.
Several hundred of these voices I ignored out of boredom. It was one way to tune out the voices that babbled like the gush of a river inside my head. I stared at the cracks running through the plaster in the far corner of the cafeteria, imagining patterns into them that were not there. I suppose this was my form of sleep-if sleep was defined as the inert state between active periods. The tedium was not something I grew used to every day seemed more impossibly monotonous than the last. Or was purgatory the right word? If there was any way to atone for my sins, this ought to count toward the tally in some measure. This was the time of day when I wished I were able to sleep.
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