Eclipse Page 0,25
payback - Charlie would have thrown my bike in a Dumpster. And possibly set that Dumpster on fire.
"Yeah, right. Like I would do that. It belongs to you, not me. Anyway, I'll hold on to it until you want it back."
A tiny hint of the smile I remembered was suddenly playing around the edges of his lips.
"Jake . . ."
He leaned forward, his face earnest now, the bitter sarcasm fading. "I think I might have been wrong before, you know, about not being able to be friends. Maybe we could manage it, on my side of the line. Come see me."
I was vividly conscious of Edward, his arms still wrapped protectively around me, motionless as a stone. I shot a look at his face - it was calm, patient.
"I, er, don't know about that, Jake."
Jacob dropped the antagonistic faade completely. It was like he'd forgotten Edward was there, or at least he was determined to act that way. "I miss you every day, Bella. It's not the same without you."
"I know and I'm sorry, Jake, I just . . ."
He shook his head, and sighed. "I know. Doesn't matter, right? I guess I'll survive or something. Who needs friends?" He grimaced, trying to cover the pain with a thin attempt at bravado.
Jacob's suffering had always triggered my protective side. It was not entirely rational - Jacob was hardly in need of any physical protection I could offer. But my arms, pinned beneath Edward's, yearned to reach out to him. To wrap around his big, warm waist in a silent promise of acceptance and comfort.
Edward's shielding arms had become restraints.
"Okay, get to class," a stern voice sounded behind us. "Move along, Mr. Crowley."
"Get to school, Jake," I whispered, anxious as soon as I recognized the principal's voice. Jacob went to the Quileute school, but he might still get in trouble for trespassing or the equivalent.
Edward released me, taking just my hand and pulling me behind his body again.
Mr. Greene pushed through the circle of spectators, his brows pressing down like ominous storm clouds
over his small eyes.
"I mean it," he was threatening. "Detention for anyone who's still standing here when I turn around again." The audience melted away before he was finished with his sentence.
"Ah, Mr. Cullen. Do we have a problem here?"
"Not at all, Mr. Greene. We were just on our way to class."
"Excellent. I don't seem to recognize your friend." Mr. Greene turned his glower on Jacob. "Are you a new student here?"
Mr. Greene's eyes scrutinized Jacob, and I could see that he'd come to the same conclusion everyone else had: dangerous. A troublemaker.
"Nope," Jacob answered, half a smirk on his broad lips.
"Then I suggest you remove yourself from school property at once, young man, before I call the police."
Jacob's little smirk became a full-blown grin, and I knew he was picturing Charlie showing up to arrest him. This grin was too bitter, too full of mocking to satisfy me. This wasn't the smile I'd been waiting to see.
Jacob said, "Yes, sir," and snapped a military salute before he climbed on his bike and kicked it to a start right there on the sidewalk. The engine snarled and then the tires squealed as he spun it sharply around. In a matter of seconds, Jacob raced out of sight.
Mr. Greene gnashed his teeth together while he watched the performance.
"Mr. Cullen, I expect you to ask your friend to refrain from trespassing again."
"He's no friend of mine, Mr. Greene, but I'll pass along the warning."
Mr. Greene pursed his lips. Edward's perfect grades and spotless record were clearly a factor in Mr. Greene's assessment of the incident. "I see. If you're worried about any trouble, I'd be happy to -"
"There's nothing to worry about, Mr. Greene. There won't be any trouble."
"I hope that's correct. Well, then. On to class. You, too, Miss Swan."
Edward nodded, and pulled me quickly along toward the English building.
"Do you feel well enough to go to class?" he whispered when we were past the principal.
"Yes," I whispered back, not quite sure if this was a lie.
Whether I felt well or not was hardly the most important consideration. I needed to talk to Edward right away, and English class wasn't the ideal place for the conversation I had in mind.
But with Mr. Greene right behind us, there weren't a lot of other options.
We got to class a little late and took our seats quickly. Mr. Berty was reciting a Frost poem. He ignored our entrance, refusing to let us break