January 24th, Monday
A week had passed since the basketball game, and life had mostly fallen back into its slow Forks rhythm, mostly.
I stood in front of the mirror that morning, toothbrush hanging from my mouth, staring at my reflection. The measuring marks on the doorframe behind me didn't lie, I'd grown another inch since last week. Just one this time, thank God.
"Still growing," I muttered, spitting into the sink. "At least it's slowing down."
A part of me was relieved. The first night had been insane, nearly two inches overnight. I'd spent days half-expecting to wake up with my head scraping the ceiling. But now it was just… steady. Manageable.
And yet, there was that stupid, nagging thought in the back of my head: Only one inch? That's it?
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Guess I can't decide if I wanna stop or turn into a skyscraper."
By the time I got to school, the parking lot was slick with mist again. Same old gray clouds, same drizzle clinging to the air. But something felt different when I walked into biology, the kind of tension you could feel before you even saw it.
And there he was, Edward Cullen. Back from wherever the hell he'd disappeared to, Alaska if I remember right.
He looked the same as always: pale, perfect, and vaguely miserable. Bella sat next to him, pretending to focus on the lab notes while he made small talk, if you could call it that.
I could practically feel Bella tense up beside him as they set up their slides. The guy was trying to act normal, like he hadn't ghosted for a week, but it came off stiff, like someone who'd practiced being human in front of a mirror and still hadn't nailed it.
"Hello," he said, his voice too smooth. "I'm sorry, I didn't get a chance to introduce myself last week. I'm Edward Cullen. You're Bella?"
"Uh… yes." Bella's voice was soft, unsure.
"Ladies first," he said, motioning to the microscope.
I frowned. Wow, starting with the old-fashioned charm, huh?
Bella blinked, thrown off. "You were gone."
"Yeah. I was out of town for a couple of days. Personal reasons."
There was an awkward silence. You could hear the whir of the ceiling fan, I wish I had popcorn, it's like watching the movie all over again.
"Prophase," Bella muttered after a second.
Edward leaned closer to the microscope. "Do you mind if I look?"
"It's prophase," he confirmed.
"Like I said," Bella shot back.
Okay, points for her, she wasn't totally intimidated, I didn't remember it like this, but it's been a long time since I watched the movie.
Edward smiled, faint but real. "So, are you enjoying the rain?"
I almost choked on my own air. The rain? Really? That's your move?
Bella let out an anxious little laugh. "What? You're asking me about the weather?"
"Yeah, I… I guess I am."
"Well, I don't really like the rain. Any cold, wet thing, I don't really…"
Edward smiled again, that perfect, polite one that didn't quite reach his eyes. Of course the Cold One wouldn't enjoy the fact the girl he's interested in doesn't like cold things.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing. It's anaphase."
"You mind if I check?" Bella asked, leaning closer.
"Sure."
"Anaphase," she said.
"Like I said."
This was getting ridiculous. Their conversation was jumping between awkward flirting and cell division like some weird high school nature documentary.
Edward's tone shifted slightly, lower, curious. "If you hate the cold and the rain so much, why'd you move to the wettest place in the continental U.S.?"
"It's complicated," Bella said, looking down at the slide again.
"I'm sure I can keep up."
"My mom remarried, and…"
"So you don't like the guy, or…"
"No, that's not, Phil's really nice. It's metaphase. You want to check it?"
"I believe you."
I exhaled slowly, leaning back in my chair. The tension between them was weird, not romantic, not yet, more like static electricity before a lightning strike.
Guess I was wrong, I thought. Edward's not sick. He's just a painfully awkward grandpa.
Still, the way he watched her, careful, fascinated, and a little afraid, made me uneasy. I mean, a hundred year old man looking at a teen like that? Sure, vampires are frozen at the age they're turned, so mentally, he's probably a teen too, but still, I couldn't help finding it a bit unsettling.
…
When the bell rang, Edward was gone before anyone could blink, typical. One moment he was beside Bella, the next he was already halfway down the hall, moving just a little too fast to be normal.
Bella stayed behind, stacking her books slowly like she was trying to make sense of what had just happened. Her shoulders were tight, eyes fixed on the empty doorway.
I slung my bag over one shoulder and leaned on her desk. "You know, Swan, most guys just ghost your texts, not entire school weeks."
She blinked, then let out a small, nervous laugh. "Yeah, well… he's got a flair for the dramatic."
"Dramatic?" I raised an eyebrow. "The guy stares at you like he's trying to solve the Da Vinci Code, disappears for seven days, and then asks about the weather. That's not dramatic, that's just weird as hell."
Bella smiled, shaking her head as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're not wrong. I just don't get him. Last week he looked like he wanted to… I don't know, throw me out a window. Now he's being all polite."
"Maybe he realized murder's bad for his GPA," I said, deadpan.
That earned me an actual laugh, soft but real. It made me grin too. "See? Much better. You should laugh more often. You look less like you're about to transfer schools again."
"Thanks, Mike," she said, rolling her eyes but smiling anyway.
We walked out together, the hallway buzzing with the usual chatter. I caught her sneaking one last glance toward where Edward had gone, and yeah, the curiosity was there. I couldn't really blame her. The guy was weirdly magnetic, like a car crash you couldn't look away from.
"Careful," I teased. "Keep staring at him like that and you'll catch whatever mysterious illness he's got."
"Very funny," she said, nudging my shoulder. "You're really milking that one."
"What can I say? Comedy gold doesn't come around often in Forks."
She laughed again, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
"Maybe," I said with a grin, "but at least I'm humanly impossible."
She smiled at that, and for a second, the heavy air that always hung over Forks felt a little lighter.
…
The glass walls of the Cullen house caught the dim Forks light and scattered it into cold gleams. Edward leaned against the piano, unmoving, eyes lost somewhere far beyond the forest that surrounded their home. He hadn't touched the keys since returning from school.
Alice appeared first, practically dancing into the room, her smile too wide to be innocent.
"So…" she began, drawing out the word like a song. "How did our charming Mr. Cullen's grand reintroduction to human small talk go today?"
Edward sighed. "You saw it."
Alice grinned, perched herself on the piano bench. "I did. And yet, it's even better hearing you admit it out loud."
"He actually asked her about the weather," Emmett boomed from the couch, throwing a cushion in the air and catching it like a football. "The weather, bro. You've had a century to practice, and that's your opener?"
Rosalie, lounging nearby with a magazine she wasn't reading, smirked. "Honestly, I'm more shocked she didn't just walk away."
"She almost did," Jasper murmured from the corner. "You should've felt the tension coming off him. Half panic, half…" He paused, searching for the word. "Fascination."
Edward shot him a look but didn't deny it. "It was just a conversation. She's… unusual."
"Unusual?" Emmett snorted. "You mean the first human you've actually talked to in years without wanting to run for the hills."
"Or drain her," Rosalie muttered under her breath.
Edward stiffened, jaw tight. "That's not funny."
"Relax," Emmett said, hands raised in mock surrender. "I'm just saying, Bella Swan must be something special if she makes you stutter."
Alice's laughter was light and musical. "He didn't just stutter. He smiled, twice."
That earned her a glare that only made her laugh harder.
Then her expression faltered, just slightly, like a cloud passing over the sun.
"What?" Edward asked immediately.
Alice's tone shifted, the teasing gone. "It's… strange. As soon as she got close to Mike Newton, I couldn't see her. Not even a flicker. Everything just went blank."
The room went still.
Rosalie frowned. "You mean you lost her? As in your vision?"
Alice nodded slowly. "Only for a few minutes. But that's never happened before. Not like that. Last week, Mike was the only one I couldn't see, but now it's extended to those close to him as well."
Jasper leaned forward, uneasy. "So now he's blocking your visions in an area?"
"Whatever's wrong with him, it's getting stronger," Alice said quietly.
Emmett whistled low. "Newton? The guy who uses too much hair gel? Yeah, I'm sure he's the big mystery."
But no one laughed this time.
Edward's voice was low, thoughtful. "If he can block your sight… that's not human."
Alice's eyes met his. "Exactly."
Silence settled again, heavy and uncertain, before Emmett finally broke it with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Well, how about we play some videogames, all this serious talk is making me uncomfortable."
Edward didn't answer. His gaze drifted back toward the window, toward Forks High, toward the one girl whose thoughts he still couldn't hear.
And somewhere, just faintly, that feeling stirred again, not danger, not yet. But something close enough to make even him uneasy.
…