- •New moon
- •Isbn-10 0-316-16019-9
- •I couldn't really see Edward's point, to be honest. What was so great about mortality? Being a vampire didn't look like such a terrible thing—not the way the Cullens did it, anyway.
- •I rolled my eyes. "Let's go watch the Capulets and Montagues hack each other up, all right?"
- •I sighed. "Do you want me to watch this alone?"
- •I twisted around so that I could read his face. "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "What do you mean, this something you had to think about once?"
- •I turned the camera on Edward, and snapped the first picture. "It works."
- •It was a hundred times worse than I'd imagined.
- •2 Stitches
- •I winced as Carlisle did something to my arm that stung.
- •If she hadn't been in my line of sight, I wouldn't have noticed Alice give up and steal out of the room. With a tiny, apologetic smile on her lips, she disappeared through the kitchen doorway.
- •I mulled that over while he poked around, making sure all the glass splinters were gone. Then he rummaged in his bag for new tools, and I tried not to picture a needle and thread.
- •I collapsed back onto my pillow, gasping, my head spinning. Something tugged at my memory, elusive, on the edges.
- •It was hard to even remember the reason for all this mess. My birthday already felt like the distant past. If only Alice would come back. Soon. Before this got any more out of hand.
- •I didn't answer. I couldn't think of a way to protest, but I instantly knew that I wanted to. I didn't like this. This is bad, this is very bad, the voice in my head repeated again and again.
- •I took a deep breath, too. This was an acceptable option. I thought I was prepared. But I still had to ask.
- •I shook my head back and forth mechanically, trying to clear it. He waited without any sign of impatience. It took a few minutes before I could speak.
- •It was black for a long time before I heard them calling.
- •I nodded and closed my eyes obediently.
- •I could tell he didn't want to answer. He looked at the floor under his knees. "They're celebrating the news." His tone was bitter.
- •I shook my head, recoiling. The sound of his name unleashed the thing that was clawing inside of me—a pain that knocked me breathless, astonished me with its force.
- •I sighed. "Then tell me what you do want me to do."
- •I glowered at him. The heat almost, but not quite, reached my face. It had been a long time since I'd blushed with any emotion.
- •I grasped at the promising title. "What's that one about?"
- •I smiled back, and something clicked silently into place, like two corresponding puzzle pieces. I'd forgotten how much I really liked Jacob Black.
- •6. Friends
- •I nodded. "Nice to meet you, too."
- •I shook my head. "No way. I'm bankrolling this party. You just have to supply the labor and expertise."
- •I jumped up to help Jacob put things away, hesitating because I wasn't sure what I should touch.
- •I nodded, trying to look embarrassed. "It was pretty scary."
- •I was hoping that déjà vu was the key. So I was going to his home, a place I hadn't been since my ill-fated birthday party, so many months ago.
- •I didn't answer right away, either, and he glanced up to check my expression.
- •I was surprised to hear Sam Uley's name. I didn't want it to bring back the images from my nightmare, so I made a quick observation to distract myself. "You don't like them very much."
- •I spoke quickly again to divert myself from the bleak memories. "Isn't Sam a little too old for this kind of thing?"
- •I stared at Jacob, biting my lip anxiously—he was really frightened. But he didn't look at me. He watched his own foot kicking the rubber as if it belonged to someone else. The tempo increased.
- •It took four more kicks before the ignition caught. I could feel the bike rumbling beneath me like an angry animal. I gripped the clutch until my fingers ached.
- •It distracted me enough from the speed to realize that the road was starting a slow curve to the left, and I was still going straight. Jacob hadn't told me how to turn.
- •I was dizzy and confused. It sounded like there were three things snarling—the bike over me, the voice in my head, and something else…
- •I clapped my hand over my head. Sure enough, it was wet and sticky. I could smell nothing but the damp moss on my face, and that held off the nausea.
- •I laughed too, glad to have Jacob back to normal.
- •I yanked my hand back and stomped around to the driver's side while he chuckled at my reaction.
- •In the end, though, the Suburban wasn't necessary.
- •I raised one eyebrow. "Some people are hard to discourage."
- •I could barely hear his answer. "I don't think I have the same thing you did."
- •10. The meadow
- •I stood for a moment with the phone still in my hand.
- •It was an irrational response. I probably should have stopped at fear.
- •I couldn't swallow. My foot started to ease back, but I froze when his red eyes flickered down to catch the movement.
- •I staggered back another step. The frantic growling in my head made it hard to hear.
- •I shook my head, though I must have been starving. I hadn't eaten all day.
- •I crossed over to the wrong side of the road to stop next to him. He looked up when the roar of my truck approached.
- •I chased him back to the truck. "Wait!" I called as he turned toward the house.
- •I didn't believe that this was really what Jacob wanted to say. It seemed like there was something else trying to be said through his angry eyes, but I couldn't understand the message.
- •I blinked twice, trying to clear my head. I was so tired. Nothing he said made sense.
- •I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. "You asked about my truck…"
- •I clutched my head in my hands, trying to keep it from exploding.
- •I thought about that carefully. "When you were mad before… when I was yelling at you… and you were shaking… ?"
- •It wasn't over.
- •I started the truck and headed back up the road.
- •In the same second, Jacob was running across the road straight for the monster.
- •I turned to stare at him—my wide eyes felt frozen, like I couldn't even blink them.
- •I frowned at him. "Why would I stare?"
- •I noticed that Emily didn't particularly like that Sam would be in the smaller grouping. Her worry had me glancing up at Jacob, worrying, too.
- •It did mean something to me. I couldn't imagine that—the wolves running faster than a vampire. When the Cullens ran, they all but turned invisible with speed.
- •I hesitated a second. This felt like a question he would ask of his spy, not his friend. But what was the point of hiding what I knew? It didn't matter now, and it would help him control himself.
- •I shivered.
- •16. Paris
- •I could not obey. The waterfall pouring from my mouth didn't stop long enough for me to catch a breath. The black, icy water filled my chest, burning.
- •I realized that I was still. There was no tug of the current on me—the heaving was inside my head. The surface under me was flat and motionless. It felt grainy against my bare arms.
- •I tried to open my eyes. It took me a minute, but then I could see the dark, purple clouds, flinging the freezing rain down at me. "Jake?" I croaked.
- •I tried to read his expression, squinting into the hammering rain. His eyes were tight with worry or pain.
- •I swallowed hard.
- •I nodded sheepishly.
- •I sighed and let my head hang back, staring at the ceiling. "That's going to be a problem."
- •I could almost see him shuddering. I shuddered, too, remembering. And then I sighed. I hadn't fooled him at all, not for one second.
- •I didn't know what to say, and, after a short pause, Alice moved on to lighter topics.
- •I ground my teeth. "She's not here. Do you need something?"
- •I locked gazes with first Jared and then Embry—I didn't like the hard way they eyed me; did they really think I would let anything hurt Jacob?—before I shut the door on them.
- •I followed him. He paced back and forth along the short counter.
- •I recovered myself and held out my hand for the phone. Jacob ignored me.
- •It took the length of one heartbeat for me to comprehend.
- •I stared at her with my jaw clenched in frustration. I'd heard nothing yet that would explain why we were still standing here.
- •I shook my head, tears spattering from my eyes with the sharp motion. I pulled my arm free, and he didn't fight me.
- •I realized why her eyes begged for my understanding. She was protecting Jasper, at our expense, and maybe at Edward's, too. I understood, and I did not think badly of her. I nodded.
- •I ground my teeth in mute frustration.
- •I leaned closer to Alice. Her lips were at my ears as she breathed the story.
- •I thought about it. "Nope, I have no idea."
- •I shrugged.
- •I rested my head against the seat, watching her, and the next thing I knew, she was snapping the shade closed against the faint brightening in the eastern sky.
- •I ran to the door and threw myself in, feeling as though I might as well be wearing a black stocking over my head.
- •It was crowded, and the foot traffic slowed our progress.
- •I peeked under Edward's other arm to see a small, dark shape coming toward us. By the way the edges billowed, I knew it would be another one of them. Who else?
- •21 Verdict
- •In the middle of the room was a high, polished mahogany counter. I gawked in astonishment at the woman behind it.
- •I wanted to groan when Edward pulled me through to the other side of the door. It was the same ancient stone as the square, the alley, and the sewers. And it was dark and cold again.
- •I realized, a second late, that Marcus was letting Aro know his thoughts.
- •I looked at Marcus's dead face, and I believed that.
- •I turned back to Aro and raised my hand slowly in front of me. It was trembling.
- •I could barely hear Aro over Edward's furious growls. He let go of me, moving to hide me from their view. Caius ghosted in our direction, with his entourage, to watch.
- •It was the white-haired Caius who broke the silence.
- •I stared up at her, frightened, but she only seemed chagrined. It was then that I first heard the babble of voices—loud, rough voices—coming from the antechamber.
- •22 Flight
- •I was relieved there was another way out; I wasn't sure if I could handle another tour through the underground.
- •I stretched as he spoke. I was so stiff.
- •I groaned. "Fabulous."
- •I'd really been hoping to put off this part of our last conversation. It was going to bring things to an end so much sooner.
- •I shook my head while the tears continued to ooze from the corners of my eyes.
- •I stared at him darkly for a long moment. "The way I feel about you will never change. Of course I love you—and there's nothing you can do about it!"
- •I wanted to believe him. But this was my life without him that he was describing, not the other way around.
- •I asked a different one. Almost—but not quite—as hard.
- •I rolled my eyes. "The worst the Volturi can do is kill me."
- •I liked the idea of time. "Okay," I agreed.
- •I only wanted to take away the agony in his eyes, but as I spoke the words, they sounded truer than I expected they would.
- •I wasn't sure how to explain. "Do you remember what Alice said about extreme sports?"
- •I thought of that night in Port Angeles when I'd had my first delusion. I'd come up with two options. Insanity or wish fulfillment. I'd seen no third option.
- •I was deeply relieved that he really seemed to understand—comforted that this all made sense to him. At any rate, he wasn't looking at me like I was crazy. He was looking at me like… he loved me.
- •I shuddered. He took that as a yes.
- •I filled my cheeks with air and then blew it out noisily. "I don't know what to tell you, Dad. It was mostly a misunderstanding. He said, she said. It got out of hand."
- •I interrupted him. "Another misunderstanding."
- •I'd varied my pattern, in hopes of a different response. I'd called Jake from work this time, only to get an unhelpful Billy. Again.
I nodded, trying to look embarrassed. "It was pretty scary."
Mike didn't stop asking me questions till lunch was over. Gradually, the others were able to start up their own conversations again, though they still looked at me a lot. Angela talked mostly to Mike and me, and, when I got up to dump my tray, she followed.
"Thanks," she said in a low voice when we were away from the table.
"For what?"
"Speaking up, sticking up for me."
"No problem."
She looked at me with concern, but not the offensive, maybe-she's-lost-it kind. "Are you okay?"
This is why I'd picked Jessica over Angela—though I'd always liked Angela more—for the girls' night movie. Angela was too perceptive.
"Not completely," I admitted. "But I'm a little bit better."
"I'm glad," she said. "I've missed you."
Lauren and Jessica strolled by us then, and I heard Lauren whisper loudly, "Oh, joy Bella's back."
Angela rolled her eyes at them, and smiled at me in encouragement.
I sighed It was like I was starting all over again.
"What's today's date?" I wondered suddenly.
"It's January nineteenth."
"Hmm."
"What is it?" Angela asked.
"It was a year ago yesterday that I had my first day here," I mused.
"Nothing's changed much," Angela muttered, looking after Lauren and Jessica.
"I know, I agreed I was just thinking the same thing."
7 REPETITION
I WASN'T SURE WHAT THE HELL I WAS DOING HERE Was I trying to push myself back into the zombie stupor? Had I turned masochistic—developed a taste for torture? I should have gone straight down to La Push I felt much, much healthier around Jacob This was not a healthy thing to do.
But I continued to drive slowly down the overgrown lane, twisting through the trees that arched over me like a green, living tunnel My hands were shaking, so I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
I knew that part of the reason I did this was the nightmare, now that I was really awake, the nothingness of the dream gnawed on my nerves, a dog worrying a bone.
There was something to search for. Unattainable and impossible, uncaring and distracted… but he was out there, somewhere. I had to believe that.
The other part was the strange sense of repetition I'd felt at school today, the coincidence of the date. The feeling that I was starting over—perhaps the way my first day would have gone if I'd really been the most unusual person in the cafeteria that afternoon.
The words ran through my head, tonelessly, like I was reading them rather than hearing them spoken:
It will be as if I'd never existed.
I was lying to myself by splitting my reason for coming here into just two parts. I didn't want to admit the strongest motivation. Because it was mentally unsound.
The truth was that I wanted to hear his voice again, like I had in the strange delusion Friday night. For that brief moment, when his voice came from some other part of me than my conscious memory, when his voice was perfect and honey smooth rather than the pale echo my memories usually produced, I was able to remember without pain. It hadn't lasted; the pain had caught up with me, as I was sure it would for this fool's errand. But those precious moments when I could hear him again were an irresistible lure. I had to find some way to repeat the experience… or maybe the better word was episode.