Twilight by Stephenie Meyer Contents

 
Be safe.

---

The sound of the truck roaring to life frightened me. I laughed at myself.
When I got home, the handle of the door was locked, the dead bolt unlocked, just as I'd left it this
morning. Inside, I went straight to the laundry room. It looked just the same as I'd left it, too. I dug for
my jeans and, after finding them, checked the pockets. Empty. Maybe I'd hung my key up after all, I
thought, shaking my head.
Following the same instinct that had prompted me to lie to Mike, I called Jessica on the pretense of
wishing her luck at the dance. When she offered the same wish for my day with Edward, I told her about
the cancellation. She was more disappointed than really necessary for a third-party observer to be. I said
goodbye quickly after that.
Charlie was absentminded at dinner, worried over something at work, I guessed, or maybe a basketball
game, or maybe he was just really enjoying the lasagna — it was hard to tell with Charlie.
"You know, Dad…" I began, breaking into his reverie.
"What's that, Bell?"
"I think you're right about Seattle. I think I'll wait until Jessica or someone else can go with me."
"Oh," he said, surprised. "Oh, okay. So, do you want me to stay home?"
"No, Dad, don't change your plans. I've got a million things to do… homework, laundry… I need to go
to the library and the grocery store. I'll be in and out all day… you go and have fun."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely, Dad. Besides, the freezer is getting dangerously low on fish — we're down to a two, maybe
three years' supply."
"You're sure easy to live with, Bella." He smiled.
"I could say the same thing about you," I said, laughing. The sound of my laughter was off, but he didn't
seem to notice. I felt so guilty for deceiving him that I almost took Edward's advice and told him where I
would be. Almost.
After dinner, I folded clothes and moved another load through the dryer. Unfortunately it was the kind of
job that only keeps hands busy. My mind definitely had too much free time, and it was getting out of
control. I fluctuated between anticipation so intense that it was very nearly pain, and an insidious fear that
picked at my resolve. I had to keep reminding myself that I'd made my choice, and I wasn't going back
on it. I pulled his note out of my pocket much more often than necessary to absorb the two small words
he'd written. He wants me to be safe, I told myself again and again. I would just hold on to the faith that,
in the end, that desire would win out over the others. And what was my other choice — to cut him out of
my life? Intolerable. Besides, since I'd come to Forks, it really seemed like my life was about him.
But a tiny voice in the back of my mind worried, wondering if it would hurt very much… if it ended
badly.
I was relieved when it was late enough to be acceptable for bedtime. I knew I was far too stressed to
sleep, so I did something I'd never done before. I deliberately took unnecessary cold medicine — the
kind that knocked me out for a good eight hours. I normally wouldn't condone that type of behavior in
myself, but tomorrow would be complicated enough without me being loopy from sleep deprivation on
top of everything else. While I waited for the drugs to kick in, I dried my clean hair till it was impeccably

---

straight, and fussed over what I would wear tomorrow. With everything ready for the morning, I finally
lay in my bed. I felt hyper; I couldn't stop twitching. I got up and rifled through my shoebox of CDs until I
found a collection of Chopin's nocturnes. I put that on very quietly and then lay down again,
concentrating on relaxing individual parts of my body. Somewhere in the middle of that exercise, the cold
pills took effect, and I gladly sank into unconsciousness.
 
I woke early, having slept soundly and dreamlessly thanks to my gratuitous drug use. Though I was well
rested, I slipped right back into the same hectic frenzy from the night before. I dressed in a rush,
smoothing my collar against my neck, fidgeting with the tan sweater till it hung right over my jeans. I
sneaked a swift look out the window to see that Charlie was already gone. A thin, cottony layer of
clouds veiled the sky. They didn't look very lasting.
I ate breakfast without tasting the food, hurrying to clean up when I was done. I peeked out the window
again, but nothing had changed. I had just finished brushing my teeth and was heading back downstairs
when a quiet knock sent my heart thudding against my rib cage.
I flew to the door; I had a little trouble with the simple dead bolt, but I yanked the door open at last, and
there he was. All the agitation dissolved as soon as I looked at his face, calm taking its place. I breathed
a sigh of relief — yesterday's fears seemed very foolish with him here.
He wasn't smiling at first — his face was somber. But then his expression lightened as he looked me
over, 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 had a long, light tan sweater on, with a white collar showing
underneath, and blue jeans. I laughed with him, hiding a secret twinge of regret — why did he have to
look like a runway model when I couldn't?
I locked the door behind me while he walked to the truck. He waited by the passenger door with a
martyred expression that was easy to understand.
"We made a deal," I reminded him smugly, climbing into the driver's seat, and reaching over to unlock his
door.
"Where to?" I asked.
"Put your seat belt on — I'm nervous already."
I gave him a dirty look as I complied.
"Where to?" I repeated with a sigh.
"Take the one-oh-one north," he ordered.
It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while feeling his gaze on my face. I compensated
by driving more carefully than usual through the still-sleeping town.
"Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?"
"This truck is old enough to be your car's grandfather — have some respect," I retorted.

---

We were soon out of the town limits, despite his negativity. Thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks
replaced the lawns and houses.
"Turn right on the one-ten," he instructed just as I was about to ask. I obeyed silently.
"Now we drive until the pavement ends."
I could hear a smile in his voice, but I was too afraid of driving off the road and proving him right to look
over and be sure.
"And what's there, at the pavement's end?" I wondered.
"A trail."
"We're hiking?" Thank goodness I'd worn tennis shoes.
"Is that a problem?" He sounded as if he'd expected as much.
"No." I tried to make the lie sound confident. But if he thought my truck was slow…
"Don't worry, it's only five miles or so, and we're in no hurry."
Five miles. I didn't answer, so that he wouldn't hear my voice crack in panic. Five miles of treacherous
roots and loose stones, trying to twist my ankles or otherwise incapacitate me. This was going to be
humiliating.
We drove in silence for a while as I contemplated the coming horror.
"What are you thinking?" he asked impatiently after a few moments.
I lied again. "Just wondering where we're going."
"It's a place I like to go when the weather is nice." We both glanced out the windows at the thinning
clouds after he spoke.
"Charlie said it would be warm today."
"And did you tell Charlie what you were up to?" he asked.
"Nope."
"But Jessica thinks we're going to Seattle together?" He seemed cheered by the idea.
"No, I told her you canceled on me — which is true."
"No one knows you're with me?" Angrily, now.
"That depends… I assume you told Alice?"
"That's very helpful, Bella," he snapped.
I pretended I didn't hear that.
"Are you so depressed by Forks that it's made you suicidal?" he demanded when I ignored him.
"You said it might cause trouble for you… us being together publicly," I reminded him.

---

"So you're worried about the trouble it might cause me— if you don't come home?" His voice was still
angry, and bitingly sarcastic.
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road.
He muttered something under his breath, speaking so quickly that I couldn't understand.
We were silent for the rest of the drive. I could feel the waves of infuriated disapproval rolling off of him,
and I could think of nothing to say.
And then the road ended, constricting to a thin foot trail with a small wooden marker. I parked on the
narrow shoulder and stepped out, afraid because he was angry with me and I didn't have driving as an
excuse not to look at him. It was warm now, warmer than it had been in Forks since the day I'd arrived,
almost muggy under the clouds. I pulled off my sweater and knotted it around my waist, glad that I'd
worn the light, sleeveless shirt — especially if I had five miles of hiking ahead of me.
I heard his door slam, and looked over to see that he'd removed his sweater, too. He was facing away
from me, into the unbroken forest beside my truck.
"This way," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me, eyes still annoyed. He started into the dark forest.
"The trail?" Panic was clear in my voice as I hurried around the truck to catch up to him.
"I said there was a trail at the end of the road, not that we were taking it."
"No trail?" I asked desperately.
"I won't let you get lost." He turned then, with a mocking smile, and I stifled a gasp. His white shirt was
sleeveless, and he wore it unbuttoned, so that the smooth white skin of his throat flowed uninterrupted
over the marble contours of his chest, his perfect musculature no longer merely hinted at behind
concealing clothes. He was too perfect, I realized with a piercing stab of despair. There was no way this
godlike creature could be meant for me.
He stared at me, bewildered by my tortured expression.
"Do you want to go home?" he said quietly, a different pain than mine saturating his voice.
"No." I walked forward till I was close beside him, anxious not to waste one second of whatever time I
might have with him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"I'm not a good hiker," I answered dully. "You'll have to be very patient."
"I can be patient — if I make a great effort." He smiled, holding my glance, trying to lift me out of my
sudden, unexplained dejection.
I tried to smile back, but the smile was unconvincing. He scrutinized my face.
"I'll take you home," he promised. I couldn't tell if the promise was unconditional, or restricted to an
immediate departure. I knew he thought it was fear that upset me, and I was grateful again that I was the
one person whose mind he couldn't hear.
"If you want me to hack five miles through the jungle before sundown, you'd better start leading the way,"
I said acidly. He frowned at me, struggling to understand my tone and expression.

---

He gave up after a moment and led the way into the forest.
It wasn't as hard as I had feared. The way was mostly flat, and he held the damp ferns and webs of moss
aside for me. When his straight path took us over fallen trees or boulders, he would help me, lifting me by
the elbow, and then releasing me instantly when I was clear. His cold touch on my skin never failed to
make my heart thud erratically. Twice, when that happened, I caught a look on his face that made me
sure he could somehow hear it.
I tried to keep my eyes away from his perfection as much as possible, but I slipped often. Each time, his
beauty pierced me through with sadness.
For the most part, we walked in silence. Occasionally he would ask a random question that he hadn't
gotten to in the past two days of interrogation. He asked about my birthdays, my grade school teachers,
my childhood pets — and I had to admit that after killing three fish in a row, I'd given up on the whole
institution. He laughed at that, louder than I was used to — bell-like echoes bouncing back to us from the
empty woods.
The hike took me most of the morning, but he never showed any sign of impatience. The forest spread
out around us in a boundless labyrinth of ancient trees, and I began to be nervous that we would never
find our way out again. He was perfectly at ease, comfortable in the green maze, never seeming to feel
any doubt about our direction.
After several hours, the light that filtered through the canopy transformed, the murky olive tone shifting to
a brighter jade. The day had turned sunny, just as he'd foretold. For the first time since we'd entered the
woods, I felt a thrill of excitement — which quickly turned to impatience.
"Are we there yet?" I teased, pretending to scowl.
"Nearly." He smiled at the change in my mood. "Do you see the brightness ahead?"
I peered into the thick forest. "Um, should I?"
He smirked. "Maybe it's a bit soon for your eyes."
"Time to visit the optometrist," I muttered. His smirk grew more pronounced.
But then, after another hundred yards, I could definitely see a lightening in the trees ahead, a glow that
was yellow instead of green. I picked up the pace, my eagerness growing with every step. He let me lead
now, following noiselessly.
I reached the edge of the pool of light and stepped through the last fringe of ferns into the loveliest place I
had ever seen. The meadow was small, perfectly round, and filled with wildflowers — violet, yellow, and
soft white. Somewhere nearby, I could hear the bubbling music of a stream. The sun was directly
overhead, filling the circle with a haze of buttery sunshine. I walked slowly, awestruck, through the soft
grass, swaying flowers, and warm, gilded air. I halfway turned, wanting to share this with him, but he
wasn't behind me where I thought he'd be. I spun around, searching for him with sudden alarm. Finally I
spotted him, still under the dense shade of the canopy at the edge of the hollow, watching me with
cautious eyes. Only then did I remember what the beauty of the meadow had driven from my mind —
the enigma of Edward and the sun, which he'd promised to illustrate for me today.
I took a step back toward him, my eyes alight with curiosity. His eyes were wary, reluctant. I smiled
encouragingly and beckoned to him with my hand, taking another step back to him. He held up a hand in
warning, and I hesitated, rocking back onto my heels.

---

Edward seemed to take a deep breath, and then he stepped out into the bright glow of the midday sun.