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and friendship was so obvious it shouted from the image。 Bella's wide chocolate eyes
were not bewildered in this vision； but still full of secrets—in this moment； they seemed
to be happy secrets。 She did not flinch away from Alice's cold arm。
What did it mean？ How much did she know？ In that still…life moment from the
future； what did she think of me？
Then the other image； so much the same； yet now colored by horror。 Alice and
Bella； their arms still wrapped around each other in trusting friendship。 But now there
was no difference between those arms—both were white； smooth as marble； hard as steel。
Bella's wide eyes were no longer chocolate。 The irises were a shocking； vivid crimson。
The secrets in them were unfathomable—acceptance or desolation？ It was impossible to
tell。 Her face was cold and immortal。
I shuddered。 I could not suppress the questions； similar； but different： What did it
mean—how had this come about？ And what did she think of me now？
I could answer that last one。 If I forced her into this empty half…life through my
weakness and selfishness； surely she would hate me。
？ 2008 Stephenie Meyer
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But there was one more horrifying image—worse than any image I'd ever held
inside my head。
My own eyes； deep crimson with human blood； the eyes of the monster。 Bella's
broken body in my arms； ashy white； drained； lifeless。 It was so concrete； so clear。
I couldn't stand to see this。 Could not bear it。 I tried to banish it from my mind；
tried to see something else； anything else。 Tried to see again the expression on her living
face that had obstructed my view for the last chapter of my existence。 All to no avail。
Alice's bleak vision filled my head； and I writhed internally with the agony it
caused。 Meanwhile； the monster in me was overflowing with glee； jubilant at the
likelihood of his success。 It sickened me。
This could not be allowed。 There had to be a way to circumvent the future。 I
would not let Alice's visions direct me。 I could choose a different path。 There was
always a choice。
There had to be。
？ 2008 Stephenie Meyer
90
5。 Invitations
High school。 Purgatory no longer； it was now purely hell。 Torment and fire？yes； I had
both。
I was doing everything correctly now。 Every 〃i〃 dotted； every 〃t〃 crossed。 No
one could complain that I was shirking my responsibilities。
To please Esme and protect the others； I stayed in Forks。 I returned to my old
schedule。 I hunted no more than the rest of them。 Everyday； I attended high school and
played human。 Everyday； I listened carefully for anything new about the Cullens—there
never was anything new。 The girl did not speak one word of her suspicions。 She just
repeated the same story again and again—I'd been standing with her and then pulled her
out of the way—till her eager listeners got bored and stopped looking for more details。
There was no danger。 My hasty action had hurt no one。
No one but myself。
I was determined to change the future。 Not the easiest task to set for oneself； but
there was no other choice that I could live with。
Alice said that I would not be strong enough to stay away from the girl。 I would
prove her wrong。
I'd thought the first day would be the hardest。 By the end of it； I'd been sure that
was the case。 I'd been wrong； though。
It had rankled； knowing that I would hurt the girl。 I'd comforted myself with the
fact that her pain would be nothing more than a pinprick—just a tiny sting of rejection—
compared to mine。 Bella was human； and she knew that I was something else； something
wrong； something frightening。 She would probably be more relieved than wounded when
I turned my face away from her and pretended that she didn't exist。
〃Hello； Edward；〃 she'd greeted me； that first day back in biology。 Her voice had
been pleasant； friendly； one hundred and eighty degrees from the last time I'd spoken
with her。
？ 2008 Stephenie Meyer
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Why？ What did the change mean？ Had she forgotten？ Decided she had
imagined the whole episode？ Could she possibly have forgiven me for not following
through on my promise？
The questions had burned like the thirst that attacked me every time I breathed。
Just one moment to look in her eyes。 Just to see if I could read the answers
there？
No。 I could not allow myself even that。 Not if I was going to change the future。
I'd moved my chin an inch in her direction without looking away from the front
of the room。 I'd nodded once； and then turned my face straight forward。
She did not speak to me again。
That afternoon； as soon as school was finished； my role played； I ran to Seattle as
I had the day before。 It seemed that I could handle the aching just slightly better when I
was flying over the ground； turning everything around me into a green blur。
This run became my daily habit。
Did I love her？ I did not think so。 Not yet。 Alice's glimpses of that future had
stuck with me； though； and I could see how easy it would be to fall into loving Bella。 It
would be exactly like falling： effortless。 Not letting myself love her was the opposite of
falling—it was pulling myself up a cliff…face； hand over hand； the task as grueling as if I
had no more than mortal strength。
More than a month passed； and every day it got harder。 That made no sense to
me—I kept waiting to get over it； to have it get easier。 This must be what Alice had
meant when she'd predicted that I would not be able to stay away from the girl。 She had
seen the escalation of the pain。 But I could handle pain。
I would not destroy Bella's future。 If I was destined to love her； then wasn't
avoiding her the very least I could do？
Avoiding her was about the limit of what I could bear； though。 I could pretend to
ignore her； and never look her way。 I could pretend that she was of no interest to me。
But that was the extent； just pretense and not reality。
I still hung on every breath she took； every word she said。
I lumped my torments into four categories。
？ 2008 Stephenie Meyer
92
The first two were familiar。 Her scent and her silence。 Or； rather—to take the
responsibility on myself where it belonged—my thirst and my curiosity。
The thirst was the most primal of my torments。 It was my habit now to simply not
breathe at all in Biology。 Of course； there were always the exceptions—when I had to
answer a question or something of the sort； and I would need my breath to speak。 Each
time I tasted the air around the girl； it was the same as the first day—fire and need and
brutal violence desperate to break free。 It was hard to cling even slightly to reason or
restraint in those moments。 And； just like that first day； the monster in me would roar； so
close to the surface？
The curiosity was the most constant of my torments。 The question was never out
of my mind： What is she thinking now？ When I heard her quietly sigh。 When she
twisted a lock of hair absently around her finger。 When she threw her books down with
more force than usual。 When she rushed to class late。 When she tapped her foot
impatiently a