[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
1
1. First Sight
This was the time of day when I wished I were able to sleep.
High school.
Or was purgatory the right word? If there
was
any way to atone for my sins, this
ought to count toward the tally in some measure. The tedium was not something I grew
used to; every day seemed more impossibly monotonous than the last.
I suppose this
was
my form of sleep—if sleep was defined as the inert state
between active periods.
I stared at the cracks running through the plaster in the far corner of the cafeteria,
imagining patterns into them that were not there. It was one way to tune out the voices
that babbled like the gush of a river inside my head.
Several hundred of these voices I ignored out of boredom.
When it came to the human mind, I’d heard it all before and then some. Today,
all thoughts were consumed with the trivial drama of a new addition to the small student
body here. It took so little to work them all up. I’d seen the new face repeated in thought
after thought from every angle. Just an ordinary human girl. The excitement over her
arrival was tiresomely predictable—like flashing a shiny object at a child. Half the
sheep-like males were already imagining themselves in love with her, just because she
was something new to look at. I tried harder to tune them out.
Only four voices did I block out of courtesy rather than distaste: my family, my
two brothers and two sisters, who were so used to the lack of privacy in my presence that
they rarely gave it a thought. I gave them what privacy I could. I tried not to listen if I
could help it.
Try as I may, still…I knew.
Rosalie was thinking, as usual, about herself. She’d caught sight of her profile in
the reflection off someone’s glasses, and she was mulling over her own perfection.
Rosalie’s mind was a shallow pool with few surprises.
© 2008 Stephenie Meyer
2
Emmett was fuming over a wrestling match he’d lost to Jasper during the night. It
would take all his limited patience to make it to the end of the school day to orchestrate a
rematch. I never really felt intrusive hearing Emmett’s thoughts, because he never
thought one thing that he would not say aloud or put into action. Perhaps I only felt
guilty reading the others’ minds because I knew there were things there that they
wouldn’t want me to know. If Rosalie’s mind was a shallow pool, then Emmett’s was a
lake with no shadows, glass clear.
And Jasper was…suffering. I suppressed a sigh.
Edward
. Alice called my name in her head, and had my attention at once.
It was just the same as having my name called aloud. I was glad my given name
had fallen out of style lately—it had been annoying; anytime anyone thought of any
Edward, my head would turn automatically…
My head didn’t turn now. Alice and I were good at these private conversations.
It was rare that anyone caught us. I kept my eyes on the lines in the plaster.
How is he holding up?
she asked me.
I frowned, just a small change in the set of my mouth. Nothing that would tip the
others off. I could easily be frowning out of boredom.
Alice’s mental tone was alarmed now, and I saw in her mind that she was
watching Jasper in her peripheral vision.
Is there any danger?
She searched ahead, into
the immediate future, skimming through visions of monotony for the source behind my
frown.
I turned my head slowly to the left, as if looking at the bricks of the wall, sighed,
and then to the right, back to the cracks in the ceiling. Only Alice knew I was shaking
my head.
She relaxed.
Let me know if it gets too bad.
I moved only my eyes, up to the ceiling above, and back down.
Thanks for doing this.
I was glad I couldn’t answer her aloud. What would I say? ‘My pleasure’? It
was hardly that. I didn’t enjoy listening to Jasper’s struggles. Was it really necessary to
experiment like this? Wouldn’t the safer path be to just admit that he might never be able
© 2008 Stephenie Meyer
3
to handle the thirst the way the rest of us could, and not push his limits? Why flirt with
disaster?
It had been two weeks since our last hunting trip. That was not an immensely
difficult time span for the rest of us. A little uncomfortable occasionally—if a human
walked too close, if the wind blew the wrong way. But humans rarely walked too close.
Their instincts told them what their conscious minds would never understand: we were
dangerous.
Jasper was very dangerous right now.
At that moment, a small girl paused at the end of the closest table to ours,
stopping to talk to a friend. She tossed her short, sandy hair, running her fingers through
it. The heaters blew her scent in our direction. I was used to the way that scent made me
feel—the dry ache in my throat, the hollow yearn in my stomach, the automatic
tightening of my muscles, the excess flow of venom in my mouth…
This was all quite normal, usually easy to ignore. It was harder just now, with the
feelings stronger, doubled, as I monitored Jasper’s reaction. Twin thirsts, rather than just
mine.
Jasper was letting his imagination get away from him. He was picturing it—
picturing himself getting up from his seat next to Alice and going to stand beside the little
girl. Thinking of leaning down and in, as if he were going to whisper in her ear, and
letting his lips touch the arch of her throat. Imagining how the hot flow of her pulse
beneath the fine skin would feel under his mouth…
I kicked his chair.
He met my gaze for a minute, and then looked down. I could hear shame and
rebellion war in his head.
“Sorry,” Jasper muttered.
I shrugged.
“You weren’t going to do anything,” Alice murmured to him, soothing his
chagrin. “I could see that.”
I fought back the grimace that would give her lie away. We had to stick together,
Alice and I. It wasn’t easy, hearing voices or seeing visions of the future. Both freaks
among those who were already freaks. We protected each other’s secrets.
© 2008 Stephenie Meyer
4
“It helps a little if you think of them as people,” Alice suggested, her high,
musical voice too fast for human ears to understand, if any had been close enough to
hear. “Her name is Whitney. She has a baby sister she adores. Her mother invited Esme
to that garden party, do you remember?”
“I know who she is,” Jasper said curtly. He turned away to stare out one of the
small windows that were spaced just under the eaves around the long room. His tone
ended the conversation.
He would have to hunt tonight. It was ridiculous to take risks like this, trying to
test his strength, to build his endurance. Jasper should just accept his limitations and
work within them. His former habits were not conducive to our chosen lifestyle; he
shouldn’t push himself in this way.
Alice sighed silently and stood, taking her tray of food—her prop, as it were—
with her and leaving him alone. She knew when he’d had enough of her encouragement.
Though Rosalie and Emmett were more flagrant about their relationship, it was Alice and
Jasper who knew each other’s every mood as well as their own. As if they could read
minds, too—only just each other’s.
Edward Cullen.
Reflex reaction. I turned to the sound of my name being called, though it wasn’t
being called, just thought.
My eyes locked for a small portion of a second with a pair of wide, chocolate-
brown human eyes set in a pale, heart-shaped face. I knew the face, though I’d never
seen it myself before this moment. It had been foremost in every human head today. The
new student, Isabella Swan. Daughter of the town’s chief of police, brought to live here
by some new custody situation. Bella. She’d corrected everyone who’d used her full
name…
I looked away, bored. It took me a second to realize that she had not been the one
to think my name.
Of course she’s already crushing on the Cullens,
I heard the first thought
continue.
Now I recognized the ‘voice.’ Jessica Stanley—it had been a while since she’d
bothered me with her internal chatter. What a relief it had been when she’d gotten over
© 2008 Stephenie Meyer
5
her misplaced infatuation. It used to be nearly impossible to escape her constant,
ridiculous daydreams. I’d wished, at the time, that I could explain to her
exactly
what
would have happened if my lips, and the teeth behind them, had gotten anywhere near
her. That would have silenced those annoying fantasies. The thought of her reaction
almost made me smile.
Fat lot of good it will do her,
Jessica went on.
She’s really not even pretty. I
don’t know why Eric is staring so much…or Mike.
She winced mentally on the last name. Her new infatuation, the generically
popular Mike Newton, was completely oblivious to her. Apparently, he was not as
oblivious to the new girl. Like the child with the shiny object again. This put a mean
edge to Jessica’s thoughts, though she was outwardly cordial to the newcomer as she
explained to her the commonly held knowledge about my family. The new student must
have asked about us.
Everyone’s looking at me today, too,
Jessica thought smugly in an aside.
Isn’t it
lucky Bella had two classes with me…I’ll bet Mike will want to ask me what she’s—
I tried to block the inane chatter out of my head before the petty and the trivial
could drive me mad.
“Jessica Stanley is giving the new Swan girl all the dirty laundry on the Cullen
clan,” I murmured to Emmett as a distraction.
He chuckled under his breath.
I hope she’s making it good,
he thought.
“Rather unimaginative, actually. Just the barest hint of scandal. Not an ounce of
horror. I’m a little disappointed.”
And the new girl? Is she disappointed in the gossip as well?
I listened to hear what this new girl, Bella, thought of Jessica’s story. What did
she see when she looked at the strange, chalky-skinned family that was universally
avoided?
It was sort of my responsibility to know her reaction. I acted as a lookout, for
lack of a better word, for my family. To protect us. If anyone ever grew suspicious, I
could give us early warning and an easy retreat. It happened occasionally—some human
with an active imagination would see in us the characters of a book or a movie. Usually
they got it wrong, but it was better to move on somewhere new than to risk scrutiny.
© 2008 Stephenie Meyer
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]