Fredward in all of his glory. All the agitation in my frame dissolved as soon as I looked at his face, calm taking its place. I breathed a sigh of relief—along with a fresh whiff of Fredward-smell.
He wasn't smiling at first—his face was somber. What did I do now? I covertly wiped at the corners of my mouth but his expression stood. He looked me over, eying my paisley pretty hard, and then his expression lightened and he laughed.
"Good morning," he chuckled.
"What's wrong?" I glanced down to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything important, like shoes, or pants.
"We match." He laughed again. I realized he too had a tan granny-sweater on, with a paisley collar and buttons showing, and lycra workout pants. I laughed with him, hiding a secret twinge of regret—why did he have to look like a runway model in these clothes when I just looked like a runaway?
I locked the door behind me while he walked to the truck, remembering yesterday when I didn't and thinking that it was reckless and that maybe I was getting reckless, what with all the drug use and dating a vampire and basically calling Mike a fag to his face; so, I made sure to lock it while Fredward walked out to the truck. He waited by the passenger door with a martyred expression that was easy to understand.
"We have a deal," I reminded him gloatingly, climbing into the driver's seat, and reaching over the bench-seat to unlock his door. "Where to?"
"Can it!—and put your seatbelt on, I'm nervous already."
"I gave him a dirty look as I complied." I said while putting the seatbelt on. "Where to?" I repeated with a sigh.
"Take the one-oh-one north," he commanded.
It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while feeling his cold, dead gaze rake my face. I compensated by driving more carefully than usual through the still-slumbering town.
"Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?"

254

Chapter 12

←

→

main contents contact