I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasn't Fredward Cullen's usual behavior. It must have been me. I decided to play dumb.
"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology IV?" I asked artlessly.39
"Yes," he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."
"I don't know," I responded. And it was true, I didn't. "I never spoke to him." Had I hurt him?
"He's a weird guy," Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you all day."
Hook, line and sinker. I smiled at him before walking into and through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring. But even if he did have pale blond hair and sky blue eyes, a marvelous cocktail for the senses, it wasn't easy to ease my agitation.
The Gym teacher, Coach Capp,40 found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. At home, only two years of P.E. were required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell on Earth.
I watched four volleyball games, running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained—and inflicted—playing volleyball, I felt faintly nauseated.
The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork-documents. The rain had drifted away but the wind was stronger, colder. I wrapped my arms around myself, thankful that I didn't have an umbrella, lest it be blown away in the blustery wind.
When I walked into the surprisingly warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out.
Fredward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that tousled bronze hair and buckskin outfit, stretched over infinitely stiff features. He didn't appear
39. Without aesthetic training.
40. A reference to the titular character of the British comic strip, Andy Capp. Capp is notable for his cross-media promotional efforts, including his very own line of potato chips shaped like french fries.