too young, she chanted to herself. Wrong, of course. I was older than her grandfather. But according to my driver's license, she was right.
"I was wondering if I could move from my biology class to a senior level science? Physics, perhaps?"
"It there a problem with Mr. Banner, Edward?"
"Not at all, it's just that I've already studied this material..."
"In that accelerated school you all went to in Alaska, right." Her thin lips pursed as she considered this. They should all be in college. I've heard the teachers complain. Perfect four point ohs, never a hesitation with a response, never a wrong answer on a test - like they've found some way to cheat in every subject. Mr. Varner would rather believe that anyone was cheating than think a student was smarter than him... I'll bet their mother tutors them... "Actually, Edward, physics is pretty much full right now. Mr. Banner hates to have more than twenty-five students in a class - "
"I wouldn't be any trouble."
Of course not. Not a perfect Cullen. "I know that, Edward. But there just aren't enough seats as it is..."
"Could I drop the class, then? I could use the period for independent study."
"Drop biology?" He mouth fell open. That's crazy. How hard is it to sit through a subject you already know? There must be a problem with Mr. Banner. I wonder if I should talk to Bob about it? "You won't have enough credits to graduate."
"I'll catch up next year."
"Maybe you should talk to your parents about that."
The door opened behind me, but who ever it was did not think of me, so I ignored the arrival and concentrated on Mrs. Cope. I leaned slightly closer, and held my eyes a little wider. This would work better if they were gold instead of black. The blackness frightened people, as it should.
"Please, Mrs. Cope?" I made my voice as smooth and compelling as it could be - and it could be considerably compelling. "Isn't there some other section I could switch to? I'm sure there has to be an open slot somewhere? Sixth hour biology can't be the only option..."
I smiled at her, careful not to flash my teeth so widely that it would scare her, letting the expression soften my face.
Her heart drummed faster. Too young, she reminded herself frantically. "Well, maybe I could talk to Bob - I mean Mr. Banner. I could see if - "
A second was all it took to change everything: the atmosphere in the room, my mission here, the reason I leaned toward the red-haired woman... What had been for one purpose before was now for another.
A second was all it took for Samantha Wells to open the door and place a signed tardy slip in the basket by the door, and hurry out again, in a rush to be away from school. A second was all it took for the sudden gust of wind through the open door to crash into me. A second was all it took for me to realize why that first person through the door had not interrupted me with her thoughts.
I turned, though I did not need to make sure. I turned slowly, fighting to control the muscles that rebelled against me.
Bella Swan stood with her back pressed to the wall beside the door, a piece of paper clutched in her hands. Her eyes were even wider than usual as she took in my ferocious, inhuman glare.
The smell of her blood saturated every particle of air in the tiny, hot room. My throat burst into flames.
The monster glared back at me from the mirror of her eyes again, a mask of evil. My hand hesitated in the air above the counter. I would not have to look back in order to reach across it and slam Mrs. Cope's head into her desk with enough force to kill her. Two lives, rather than twenty. A trade.
The monster waited anxiously, hungrily, for me to do it.
But there was always a choice - there had to be.
I cut off the motion of my lungs, and fixed Carlisle's face in front of my eyes. I turned back to face Mrs. Cope, and heard her internal surprise at the change in my expression. She shrank away from me, but her fear did not form into coherent words.
Using all the control I'd mastered in my decades of self-denial, I made my voice even and smooth. There was just enough air left in my lungs to speak once more, rushing