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A Shadow of the Midnight Sun

Summary:
My take on Midnight Sun after reading Stephenie's first chapter...begining with the return from Alaska Chapter 15 posted!---- NEXT CHAPTER...PORT ANGELAS ---- Just a note: This story is getting increasingly difficult, but I will try to update regularly...Edward is just so complicated!


Notes:
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me in any way, shape or form. They are Stephenie Meyer’s fantastic creations and I am only writing this for entertainment purposes, my own and yours if someone else is reading this. In addition, if there is any dialogue Bella is in earshot of, or involved in, it is all Mrs. Meyer’s genius and some of the internal dialogue may be taken from words that Edward will later say or paraphrase to Bella or another character.


3. Small Talk

Rating 3/5   Word Count 1526   Review this Chapter

Small Talk

She thought I did not like her, why this should bothered me, no one in the school thought I liked them really, and Jessica had told her that. But with some small talk, I could make her forget that first day; I could just be another guy she knows. "It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?"

"Not really," she answered quickly.

“You don’t like the cold.” It came out as more of a statement than a question, but I still could not hear her thoughts. I just saw it in her face.

She has remarkable facial expressions, I thought. I could look into her face and almost hear her thoughts. Almost, I scowled to myself with frustration.

When I look at her, I still feel that burning lust for her blood, but there is another feeling there….I still don’t know what it is, very unfamiliar. I should run from her, she could be my demise, my family’s demise.

But what could it hurt, being her friend? What am I thinking! It could hurt everyone, this need for her blood was painful, if she figured something out it could ruin our existence here in Forks, and most importantly, it could hurt her. No, I stopped myself, when did that become most important?

“Or the wet,” She answered.

“Forks must be a very difficult place for you to live.” I replied. It is nothing but wet and cold here.

“You have no idea.” She muttered. She’s more correct than she even knows. I don’t like not knowing, even something as trivial as this.

“Why did you come here then?” I pressed.

“It’s…complicated.” She replied. That wouldn’t do. I want to know why she came here if she didn’t want to. I knew she came here to live with her father, Charlie Swan. I know she was living with her mother; that her mother was still around. I was intrigued. What could possibly be complicated about it?

“I think I can keep up,” I said simply. She would tell me, if I can’t see her mind, then I will understand her, just enough to ease my curiosity. Then everything can go back to normal, I can just be her lab partner, the alluring scent would fade to nothing like the rest of them and everyone would go about there own way.

I didn’t have to ask again. “My mother got remarried.”

“That doesn’t sound so complex,” she didn’t like him. Not anything special, just a normal teenager who doesn’t like her step father. But for some reason, I felt a twinge of sadness for this girl. “When did this happen?” I continued. I felt compelled to continue to ask questions as long as she seemed open to them.

“Last September.”

“And you don’t like him.” I said aloud what I had been thinking.

“No, Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice enough”

This wasn’t going as I thought it would. She didn’t like him so she threw a fit and came to live with her dad. That was the type of thing that human teenagers do, all teenagers do. Curiously, I asked her why she left.

“Phil travels a lot, he plays ball for a living” she replied. Not really a reason for leaving, interesting none the less.

No, really it wasn't interesting at all, but for some reason, despite the longing for her blood, I am craving to know her...what a strange thing to crave. I have never wanted to know someone, especially not a human. Never wanted to understand someone, not a silly teenage girl. What was going on here? I wanted to kill her, drink her blood, satisfy the monster inside of me screaming louder than he ever has, but I wanted to talk to her too, to know her. I had never experienced anything like it – nor did I ever want to again.

I continued, despite myself, "And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him." I kind of like this game, I can read her thoughts without hearing them. It was those eyes, so wide and oddly deep.

But she shot back, maybe a little defensive, "No, she did not send me here. I sent myself." Ok, maybe I am not as good at this as I thought, or she is lying, that is more likely. After all, I have been studying humans for some time now; they lied...more than they even knew. But something in her eyes says that this is the truth, I want to be sure, I don't want to guess.

On this, I can only ask, my curiosity is too much now; I don't want to end the conversation here. "I don't understand," I admitted, again, not an ordinary occurrence, me not understanding. So many new things today.

Her unhappy story was that she did it so her mom could be happy...not miss this Phil when he was gone. Again, not a normal sacrifice for a teenager, Bella wasn't happy, that assumption was one I wouldn't be wrong about. Might as well get one right.

"But now you're unhappy," simply said but undeniable...though she seemed to like to contradict my assumptions, how would she get out of this one.

"And?”, a simple confirmation or my theory. She didn’t try to deny it. This was not a good day for the mind reader. There has to be a way, a way to see her thoughts, I needed to...more than I needed her blood...more than I needed anything...

"That doesn't seem fair," nor does this unbelievable frustration!

Through a soft chuckle, dark but soft, "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."

Humph..."I believe I have heard that before," I know that one all too well. I continue to stare at her; I have to break through this...this wall between her thoughts and me. It makes no sense, one small insignificant girl and her thoughts make a hundred year old vampire so crazy...one insignificant girl, her thoughts, and the sweetest blood I have ever smelled.

Her thoughts wouldn't matter any more if I just killed her...feasted on her delicious blood. My mind was not use to the heavy focus on nothing, the monster was breaking through. This thought, innocent as it really was for I had no intention on hurting Bella today, was alarmingly painful.

"So that's all," she finished. How long had I been staring at her, trying to break into her thoughts? Why not play a little more, guessing was still a little fun, I think I was getting the hang of it.

She was sad, suffering, I told her I would bet as much, but that she was good at hiding it.

Ha! She couldn't even deny it, but she wouldn't own up to it either, so I pressed, "Am I wrong?" Don't disappoint now Miss Swan...no lying. Still nothing, she didn't like my game, me knowing her innermost secrets...IF ONLY! "I didn't think so," that said a little more smugly that I meant it. I wouldn't need her thoughts, they were in her expressive eyes...rather nice brown eyes.

I hit a nerve. "Why does it matter to you?" she shot back finally.

“That’s a very good question,” said more to myself. I just couldn’t understand my craving to play this game. I stare at her; she is trying very hard not to look at me, burning a hole into the blank blackboard, looking annoyed.

Was she upset with me? The thought of her torment at my questioning sent a stab of sorrow through me. What were these feeling and thoughts of this girl? This is only making it worse.

Again, almost against my will, “Am I annoying you?” I asked her. There may have been actual concern in that question. I wanted to make it better.

“Not exactly, I am more annoyed at myself,” she blurted as she turned to look at me. “My face is so easy to read – My mother always calls me her opened book,” she seemed to answer without candor.

How wrong she is! “On the contrary, I find you extremely difficult to read,” I confessed. – Why would I tell her that? – She searched my face for a lie. She thought my observations had been good, but truthfully, for me they had been very sub par.

Doubt still on her face, she observed, “you must be a good reader then.”

“Usually,” I could not help but to smile at this. She was right of course; she couldn’t know how good of a reader I normally am. But why would I have given so much of myself away in this conversation?

The teacher beckoned for the class’s attention now, going through the lab I had long forgotten in the mist of the interesting conversation I had just had with Bella Swan. There is something, something I cannot let go, I wanted to know this girl, I wanted to know her thoughts, her feelings, everything. I could not of course. When I left the room, got away from the beautiful scent that now made me more than just ravenous, I would think this through and be rational. It was the intrigue; I know it, nothing more. It couldn’t be.

The bell rang and I swiftly left the room, needing time to think and needing to get away from these confusing thoughts about the girl with no thoughts.