On the Eve of Dusk

Icecream in the Dark

In my dream, it was very dark, and what dim light there was seemed to be radiating from Edward's skin. I couldn't see his face, just black as he walked away from me, leaving me in the blackness. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn't catch up to him; no matter how loud I called, he never turned. 

Troubled, I woke in the middle of the night. 

I slipped my arm out from under my sister and walked to my window, gazing out at the still snow-covered street.

 The ice served as a reminder. I should be dead.

 I would be dead. 

Edward and Emmett Cullen had saved my life, and my gut told me it would cost me. Something was brewing, on the precipice of discovery. Constantly waxing and waning like phases of the moon, ever-changing and yet, ever stationary. Like Forks. The place never changed, and yet, nothing was the same. Nothing would ever be the same. 

I couldn't sleep again for what seemed like a very long time. After that, he was in my dreams nearly every night, but always on the periphery, never within reach.

The month that followed the accident was uneasy, tense, and, at first, embarrassing.

I knew it would happen, and yet it annoyed me all the same that I had found myself to be the center of attention for the rest of the week. Tyler Crowley was impossible, following me around, obsessed with making amends to me somehow. I tried to convince him what I wanted more than anything was for him to forget all about it- especially since nothing had actually happened to me- but he remained insistent. He followed me between classes and sat at Dahlia's now crowded lunch table. 

Mike and Eric were even less friendly toward him than they were to each other, which made me worry that I'd gained another unwelcome fan.

Emmett had also begun to boom in popularity, his cast had been signed in every spot possible, the largest signature being Alvin's, In purple sharpie on the palm. He was modest and kept to himself, though this did not stop the onslaught of girls whispering about how hot he was. They all knew, however, they didn't have a snowball's chance in hell against the goddess Aphrodite herself, Rosalie. Emmett took his popularity in stride and even joked about his ruined football scholarships.

No one seemed concerned about Edward, though I explained over and over that he was a hero- how he had pulled me out of the way and had nearly been crushed himself. I tried to be convincing without using any convincing. Jessica, Tyler, Eric, and everyone else always commented how they hadn't even seen The Cullen boys there until after the van was pulled away.

I wondered to myself why no one else had seen them standing so far away, before they were suddenly, impossibly saving my life. With chagrin, I realized the probable cause- no one else was as aware of the Cullens as I always was. No one else watched them the way I did. How pitiful. Edward was never surrounded by crowds of curious bystanders the way Emmett and I were. No one dared bother Emmett when he was near Rosalie. No one asked him for his firsthand account. People avoided him as usual. The Cullens and Hales sat at the same table as always, not eating, talking only amongst themselves. None of them, especially Edward, glanced my way anymore.

When he sat next to me in class, as far away from me as the table would allow, he seemed totally unaware of my presence. Only now and then, when his fists would suddenly ball up- skin stretched even whiter over the bones- did I wonder if he wasn't quite as oblivious as he appeared. He wished he hadn't been there. He wished he had just let me die- there was no other conclusion I could come to.

I wanted very much to talk to him, and the day after the accident I tried. The last time I'd seen him, outside the ER, we'd both been so furious. I still was angry that he wouldn't trust me with his truth, despite me fully trusting him with mine. I kept my part of the bargain flawlessly, never straying from the script, never raising any suspicions. But he had in fact saved my life, no matter how he'd done it. And, overnight, the heat of my anger faded into awed gratitude.