It was clear that he wished he hadn't pulled me from the path of Tyler's van—he'd rather I died, our love extinguished. There was no other conclusion I could come to.
I wanted very much to talk to him, and the day after the accident I tried. The last time I'd seen him, outside the ER, we'd both been so furious that I had to go home and abuse my father just to feel sane again. Even so, I still was angry that he wouldn't trust me with the truth, even though I was keeping my part of the bargain flawlessly. But he had in fact saved my life, no matter how he'd done it. And overnight, the heat of my anger faded into a hot gratitude.
He was already seated when I got to Biology IV, looking straight ahead. I sat down, expecting him to turn toward me. He showed no sign that he realized I was there, or how he felt about us.
"Hello, Fredward," I said pleasantly, to show him I was going to behave myself.
He turned his head a fraction102 toward me without meeting my gaze, nodded once, and then looked the other way.
And that was the last contact I'd had with him, even though he was there, a foot away from me, every day in Biology IV. I watched him sometimes, unable to stop myself—from a distance, though, in the cafeteria or parking lot, in Biology IV or around the corner from his locker. I watched as his golden eyes grew perceptibly darker day by day as the fire of our love slowly burned out. But in class I gave no more notice that he existed than he showed toward me. I was miserable. And the dreams continued.
Despite my outright lies, the tenor of my e-mails alerted Renée to my depression, and she called a few times, worried about my love life. I tried to convince her it was just the weather that had me down and not my horrific accident, or living with Charlie "I Cut Off My Arm For You" Duck, or Tyler "Let Me Wipe Your Ass For You" Crowley forcing me to hold it in until I got home, and especially not the fact that Fredward "I'm a Jerk" Cullen didn't seem to love me anymore.
102. Best estimates say he turned it 1/10th of a circle, or 36°.