“Are you going all by yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Seattle is a big city—you could get lost,” he warned.
“Dad, Phoenix is five times the size of Seattle—and I can read a map, don’t worry about it.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
I wondered if he was really that worried about me, or if he just thought all the Saturdays he left me alone were adding up to neglect. Probably worried. I was sure that, in his head, he still pictured me as a five-year-old most of the time.
“That’s okay. It’s not going to be very exciting.”
“Will you be back in time for the dance?”
I just stared back at him until he got it.
It didn’t take him long. “Oh, right.”
“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t get my balance issues from my mom.
The next morning at school, I parked as far as possible from the shiny silver Volvo. I would keep my distance. I wouldn’t notice her anymore. She’d have nothing to complain about from here on out.
As I slammed the truck door shut, I lost my hold on the key and it splashed down in a puddle at my feet. As I bent to retrieve it, a pale hand flashed out and grabbed it first. I jerked upright, almost smacking my head into her. Edythe Cullen was right there, leaning casually against my truck.
“How do you do that?” I gasped.
“Do what?” She held out my key while she spoke. As I reached for it, she dropped it in my palm.
“Appear out of thin air?”
“Beau, it’s not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant.” Her voice was just a murmur, muted velvet, and her lips were holding back a smile. Like she thought I was hilarious.
How was I supposed to ignore her when she wouldn’t ignore me? That was what she wanted, right? Me, out of her long, bronze-y hair? Wasn’t that what she’d said to me yesterday? We couldn’t be friends. Then why was she talking to me? Was she sadistic? Was this her idea of fun—torture the idiotic kid she could never possibly care about?
I stared at her, frustrated. Her eyes were light again today, a deep, golden honey color. My thoughts got confused, and I had to look down. Her feet were just a half-foot from mine, oriented toward me, unmoving. Like she was waiting for a response.
I looked past her, toward the school, and said the first dumb things that came into my mind. “Why the traffic jam last night? I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don’t exist.”
“Ah. That was for Taylor’s sake. She was figuratively dying for her chance at you.”
I blinked. “What?” Irritation from yesterday’s memory bled into my voice. I hadn’t thought Edythe and Taylor were friends. Did Taylor ask her…? That didn’t seem likely.
“And I’m not pretending you don’t exist,” she continued like I hadn’t spoken.
I met her eyes again, trying hard to keep my mind focused, no matter how golden they seemed, or how long her lashes were against her pale violet lids.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” I told her.
It was annoying how my thoughts seemed to explode straight through my lips when I was near her, like I had no filter at all. I would never have spoken this way to another girl.
The amused half-smile disappeared, and her face was suddenly guarded.
“Nothing,” she said too quickly, almost like she was lying.
“Then you probably should have let the van take me out. Easier that way.”
She stared for a second, and when she answered, her voice was cold. “Beau, you are utterly absurd.”
I must be right about the torture thing. I was just a way for her to pass time in this boring town. An easy mark.
I was past her in one long stride.
“Wait,” she said, but I forced myself to keep moving, not to look back.
“I’m sorry, that was rude,” she said, somehow right next to me, keeping pace though my legs were probably twice as long as hers. “I’m not saying it wasn’t true, but it was rude to say it out loud.”
“Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me.”
I sighed and slowed, though she didn’t seem like she was having a hard time keeping up. “Fine.” I was such a sucker. “What do you want?”
“I was wondering if, a week from Saturday—you know, the day of the spring dance—”
I stopped, wheeling to look down at her. “Is this funny to you?”
She stared up at me, seeming oblivious to the drizzling rain that was falling. She was apparently wearing no makeup at all—nothing smudged or ran. Of course, her face was just that perfect naturally. For a second, I was actually angry—angry that she had to be so beautiful. Angry that her beauty had made her cruel. Angry that I was the object of her cruelty, and even though I knew it, I still couldn’t successfully walk away from her.
Her amused expression was back, the hint of dimples threatening on her cheeks.
“Will you please allow me to finish?” she asked.
Walk away, I told myself.
I didn’t move.
“I heard that you were going to Seattle that day, and I wondered if you wanted a ride.”
That was not what I was expecting.
“Huh?”
“Do you want a ride to Seattle?”
I wasn’t sure where her joke was heading now. “With who?”
“Myself, obviously.” She enunciated every syllable, like she thought maybe English wasn’t my first language.