Peninsula—this bleak date had lurked in ambush, waiting to spring.
And now that it had hit, it was even worse than I'd feared it would be. I could feel it—I was older. Every day I got older, but this was different, worse, quantifiable. I was eighteen.
And Edward never would be.
When I went to brush my teeth, I was almost surprised that the face in the mirror hadn't changed. I stared at myself, looking for some sign of impending wrinkles in my ivory skin. The only creases were the ones on my forehead, though, and I knew that if I could manage to relax, they would disappear. I couldn't. My eyebrows stayed lodged in a worried line over my anxious brown eyes.
I skipped breakfast, in a hurry to get out of the house as quickly as possible. I wasn't entirely able to avoid my dad, and so I had to spend a few minutes acting cheerful. I honestly tried to be excited about the gifts I'd asked him not to
I struggled to get a grip on myself as I drove to school. The vision of Gran—I would
Despair momentarily vanished; wonder took its place. Even after half a year with him, I still couldn't believe that I deserved this degree of good fortune.
His sister Alice was standing by his side, waiting for me, too.
Of course Edward and Alice weren't really related (in Forks the story was that all the Cullen siblings were adopted by Dr. Carlisle Culler and his wife, Esme, both plainly too young to have teenage children), but their skin was precisely the same pale shade, their eyes had the same strange golden tint, with the same deep, bruise-like shadows beneath them. Her face, like his, was also startlingly beautiful. To someone in the know—someone like me—these similarities marked them for what they were.
The sight of Alice waiting there—her tawny eyes brilliant with excitement, and a small silver-wrapped square in her hands—made me frown. I'd told Alice I didn't want anything,
I slammed the door of my '53 Chevy truck—a shower of rust specks fluttered down to the wet blacktop—and walked slowly toward where they waited. Alice skipped forward to meet me, her pixie face glowing under her spiky black hair.
'Happy birthday, Bella!'
'Shh!' I hissed, glancing around the lot to make sure no one had heard her. The last thing I wanted was some kind of celebration of the black event.
She ignored me. 'Do you want to open your present now or later?' she asked eagerly as we made our way to where Edward still waited.
'No presents,' I protested in a mumble.
She finally seemed to process my mood. 'Okay… later, then. Did you like the scrapbook your mom sent you? And the camera from Charlie?'
I sighed. Of course she would know what my birthday presents were. Edward wasn't the only member of his family with unusual skills. Alice would have 'seen' what my parents were planning as soon as they'd decided that themselves.
'Yeah. They're great.'
'
'How many times have
'That's different.'
We reached Edward then, and he held out his hand for mine. I took it eagerly, forgetting, for a moment, my glum mood. His skin was, as always, smooth, hard, and very cold. He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze. I looked into his liquid topa2 eyes, and my heart gave a not-quite-so-gentle squeeze of its own. Hearing the stutter in my heartbeats, he smiled again.
He lifted his free hand and traced one cool fingertip around the outside of my lips as he spoke. 'So, as discussed, I am not allowed to wish you a happy birthday, is that correct?'
'Yes. That is correct.' I could never quite mimic the flow of his perfect, formal articulation. It was something that could only be picked up in an earlier century.
'Just checking.' He ran his hand through his tousled bronze hair. 'You
Alice laughed, and the sound was all silver, a wind chime. 'Of course you'll enjoy it. Everyone is supposed to be nice to you today and give you your way, Bella. What's the worst that could happen?' She meant it as a rhetorical question.
'Getting older,' I answered anyway, and my voice was not as steady as I wanted it to be.
Beside me, Edward's smile tightened into a hard line.
'Eighteen isn't very old,' Alice said. 'Don't women usually wait till they're twenty-nine to get upset over birthdays?'
'It's older than Edward,' I mumbled.
He sighed.
'Technically,' she said, keeping her tone light. 'Just by one little year, though.'
And I supposed… if I could be
An impasse, he called it.
I couldn't really see Edward's point, to be honest. What was so great about mortality? Being a vampire didn't look like such a terrible thing—not the way the Cullens did it, anyway.
'What time will you be at the house?' Alice continued, changing the subject. From her expression, she was up to exactly the kind of thing I'd been hoping to avoid.
'I didn't know I had plans to be there.'
'Oh, be fair, Bella!' she complained. 'You aren't going to ruin all our fun like that, are you?'
'I thought my birthday was about what
'I'll get her from Charlie's right after school,' Edward told her, ignoring me altogether.
'I have to work,' I protested.
'You don't, actually,' Alice told me smugly. 'I already spoke to Mrs. Newton about it. She's trading your shifts. She said to tell you 'Happy Birthday.''
'I—I still can't come over,' I stammered, scrambling for an excuse. 'I, well, I haven't watched
Alice snorted. 'You have
'But Mr. Berty said we needed to see it performed to fully appreciate it—that's how Shakespeare intended it to be presented.'
Edward rolled his eyes.
'You've already seen the movie,' Alice accused.
'But not the nineteen-sixties version. Mr. Berty said it was the best.'
Finally, Alice lost the smug smile and glared at me. 'This can be easy, or this can be hard, Bella, but one way or the other—'
Edward interrupted her threat. 'Relax, Alice. If Bella wants to watch a movie, then she can. It's her birthday.'
'So there,' I added.
'I'll bring her over around seven,' he continued. 'That will give you more time to set up.'
Alice's laughter chimed again. 'Sounds good. See you tonight, Bella! It'll be fun, you'll see.' She grinned—the