For the rest of the lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table. I decided to honor the bargain I'd made with myself. Since he didn't look angry, I would go to Biology. My stomach did frightened little flips at the thought of sitting next to him again.

　　I didn't really want to walk to class with Mike as usual — he seemed to be a popular target for the snowball snipers — but when we went to the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison. It was raining, washing all traces of the snow away in clear,icy ribbons down the side of the walkway. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I would be free to go straight home after Gym.

　　Mike kept up a string of complaints on the way to building four.

　　Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room,distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook.

　　I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing.

　　"Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

　　I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but his chair was angled toward me. His hair was dripping wet, disheveled — even so, he looked like he'd just finished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his flawless lips. But his eyes were careful.

　　"My name is Edward Cullen," he continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan."

　　My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now. I had to speak; he was waiting. But I couldn't think of anything conventional to say.

　　"H-how do you know my name?" I stammered.

　　He laughed a soft, enchanting laugh.

　　"Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town's been waiting for you to arrive."

　　I grimaced. I knew it was something like that.

　　"No," I persisted stupidly. "I meant, why did you call me Bella?"

　　He seemed confused. "Do you prefer Isabella?"

　　"No, I like Bella," I said. "But I think Charlie — I mean my dad — must call me Isabella behind my back — that's what everyone here seems to know me as," I tried to explain, feeling like an utter moron.

　　"Oh." He let it drop. I looked away awkwardly.

　　Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today.The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.

　　"Get started," he commanded.