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,