Twilight 3 - Eclipse | Page 5

the table andthunk ed into my elbow.
“Er, thanks,” I muttered, puzzled by his pushiness. Then I saw the return address — the letter was from
the University of Alaska Southeast. “That was quick. I guess I missed the deadline on that one, too.”
Charlie chuckled.
I flipped the envelope over and then glared up at him. “It’s open.”
“I was curious.”
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“I’m shocked, Sheriff. That’s a federal crime.”
“Oh, just read it.”
I pulled out the letter, and a folded schedule of courses.
“Congratulations,” he said before I could read anything. “Your first acceptance.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“We should talk about tuition. I’ve got some money saved up —”
“Hey, hey, none of that. I’m not touching your retirement, Dad. I’ve got my college fund.” What was left
of it — and there hadn’t been much to begin with.
Charlie frowned. “Some of these places are pretty pricey, Bells. I want to help. You don’t have to go to
all the way to Alaska just because it’s cheaper.”
It wasn’t cheaper, not at all. But itwas far away, and Juneau had an average of three hundred
twenty-one overcast days per year. The first was my prerequisite, the second was Edward’s.
“I’ve got it covered. Besides, there’s lots of financial aid out there. It’s easy to get loans.” I hoped my
bluff wasn’t too obvious. I hadn’t actually done a lot of research on the subject.
“So . . . ,” Charlie began, and then he pursed his lips and looked away.
“So what?”
“Nothing. I was just . . .” He frowned. “Just wondering what . . . Edward’s plans are for next year?”
“Oh.”
“Well?”
Three quick raps on the door saved me. Charlie rolled his eyes and I jumped up.
“Coming!” I called while Charlie mumbled something that sounded like, “Go away.” I ignored him and
went to let Edward in.
I wrenched the door out of my way — ridiculously eager — and there he was, my personal miracle.
Time had not made me immune to the perfection of his face, and I was sure that I would never take any
aspect of him for granted. My eyes traced over his pale white features: the hard square of his jaw, the
softer curve of his full lips — twisted up into a smile now, the straight line of his nose, the sharp angle of
his cheekbones, the smooth marble span of his forehead — partially obscured by a tangle of
rain-darkened bronze hair. . . .
I saved his eyes for last, knowing that when I looked into them I was likely to lose my train of thought.
They were wide, warm with liquid gold, and framed by a thick fringe of black lashes. Staring into his eyes
always made me feel extraordinary — sort of like my bones were turning spongy. I was also a little
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lightheaded, but that could have been because I’d forgotten to keep breathing. Again.
It was a face any male model in the world would trade his soul for. Of course, that might be exactly the
asking price: one soul.
No. I didn’t believe that. I felt guilty for even thinking it, and was glad — as I was often glad — that I
was the one person whose thoughts were a mystery to Edward.
I reached for his hand, and sighed when his cold fingers found mine. His touch brought with it the
strangest sense of relief — as if I’d been in pain and that pain had suddenly ceased.
“Hey.” I smiled a little at my anticlimactic greeting.
He raised our interlaced fingers to brush my cheek with the back of his hand. “How was your
afternoon?”
“Slow.”
“For me, as well.”
He pulled my wrist up to his face, our hands still twisted together. His eyes closed as his nose skimmed
along the skin there, and he smiled gently without opening them. Enjoying the bouquet while resisting the
wine, as he’d once put it.
I knew that the scent of my blood — so much sweeter to him than any other person’s blood, truly like
wine beside water to an alcoholic — caused him actual pain from the burning thirst it engendered. But he
didn’t seem to shy away from it as much as he once had. I could only dimly imagine the Herculean effort
behind this simple gesture.
It made me sad that he had to try so hard. I comforted myself with the knowledge that I wouldn’t be
causing him pain much longer.
I heard Charlie approaching then, stamping his feet on the way to express his customary displeasure with
our guest. Edward’s eyes snapped open and he let our hands fall, keeping them twined.
“Good evening, Charlie.” Edward was always flawlessly polite, though Charlie didn’t deserve it.
Charlie