"Look, Jacob, I know Billy probably won't believe this, but just so you know" - he looked at me now, responding to the new earnestness in my voice - "Edward really did save my life. If it weren't for Edward and his father, I'd be dead."
"I know," he claimed, but he sounded like my sincere words had affected him some. Maybe he'd be able to convince Billy of this much, at least.
"Hey, I'm sorry you had to come do this, Jacob," I apologized. "At any rate, you get your parts, right?"
"Yeah," he muttered. He was still looking awkward... upset.
"There's more?" I asked in disbelief.
"Forget it," he mumbled, "I'll get a job and save the money myself."
I glared at him until he met my gaze. "Just spit it out, Jacob."
"It's so bad."
"I don't care. Tell me," I insisted.
"Okay... but, geez, this sounds bad." He shook his head. "He said to tell you, no, to warn you, that - and this is his plural, not mine" - he lifted one hand from my waist and made little quotations marks in the air - '"We'll be watching.'" He watched warily for my reaction.
It sounded like something from a mafia movie. I laughed out loud.
"Sorry you had to do this, Jake," I snickered.
"I don't mind that much." He grinned in relief. His eyes were appraising as they raked quickly over my dress. "So, should I tell him you said to butt the hell out?" he asked hopefully.
"No," I sighed. "Tell him I said thanks. I know he means well."
The song ended, and I dropped my arms.
His hands hesitated at my waist, and he glanced at my bum leg. "Do you want to dance again? Or can I help you get somewhere?"
Edward answered for me. "That's all right, Jacob. I'll take it from here."
Jacob flinched, and stared wide-eyed at Edward, who stood just beside us.
"Hey, I didn't see you there," he mumbled. "I guess I'll see you around, Bella." He stepped back, waving halfheartedly.
I smiled. "Yeah, I'll see you later."
"Sorry," he said again before he turned for the door.
Edward's arms wound around me as the next song started. It was a little up-tempo for slow dancing, but that didn't seem to concern him. I leaned my head against his chest, content.
"Feeling better?" I teased.
"Not really," he said tersely.
"Don't be mad at Billy," I sighed. "He just worries about me for Charlie's sake. It's nothing personal."
"I'm not mad at Billy," he corrected in a clipped voice. "But his son is irritating me."
I pulled back to look at him. His face was very serious.
"Why?"
"First of all, he made me break my promise."
I stared at him in confusion.He half-smiled. "I promised I wouldn't let go of you tonight," he explained.
"Oh. Well, I forgive you."
"Thanks. But there's something else." Edward frowned.
I waited patiently.
"He called you pretty," he finally continued, his frown deepening. "That's practically an insult, the way you look right now. You're much more than beautiful."
I laughed. "You might be a little biased."
"I don't think that's it. Besides, I have excellent eyesight."
We were twirling again, my feet on his as he held me close.
"So are you going to explain the reason for all of this?" I wondered.
He looked down at me, confused, and I glared meaningfully at the crepe paper.
He considered for a moment, and then changed direction, spinning me through the crowd to the back door of the gym. I caught a glimpse of Jessica and Mike dancing, staring at me curiously. Jessica waved, and I smiled back quickly. Angela was there, too, looking blissfully happy in the arms of little Ben Cheney; she didn't look up from his eyes, a head lower than hers. Lee and Samantha, Lauren, glaring toward us, with Conner; I could name every face that spiraled past me. And then we were outdoors, in the cool, dim light of a fading sunset.
As soon as we were alone, he swung me up into his arms, and carried me across the dark grounds till he reached the bench beneath the shadow of the madrone trees. He sat there, keeping me cradled against his chest. The moon was already up, visible through the gauzy clouds, and his face glowed pale in the white light. His mouth was hard, his eyes troubled.
"The point?" I prompted softly.
He ignored me, staring up at the moon.
"Twilight, again," he murmured. "Another ending. No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end."
"Some things don't have to end," I muttered through my teeth, instantly tense.
He sighed.
"I brought you to the prom," he said slowly, finally answering my question, "because I don't want you to miss anything. I don't want my presence to take anything away from you, if I can help it. I want you to be human. I want your life to continue as it would have if I'd died in nineteen-eighteen like I should have."
I shuddered at his words, and then shook my head angrily. "In what strange parallel dimension would I ever have gone to prom of my own free will? If you weren't a thousand times stronger than me, I would never have let you get away with this."
He smiled briefly, but it didn't touch his eyes. "It wasn't so bad, you said so yourself."
"That's because I was with you."
We were quiet for a minute; he stared at the moon and I stared at him. I wished there was some way to explain how very uninterested I was in a normal human life.
"Will you tell me something?" he asked, glancing down at me with a slight smile.
"Don't I always?"
"Just promise you'll tell me," he insisted, grinning.
I knew I was going to regret this almost instantly. "Fine."
"You seemed honestly surprised when you figured out that I was taking you here," he began.
"I was," I interjected.
"Exactly," he agreed. "But you must have had some other theory... I'm curious - what did you think I was dressing you up for?"
Yes, instant regret. I pursed my lips, hesitating. "I don't want to tell you."
"You promised," he objected.