I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to die. Or, at the very least, not to throw up.

It felt like the heat of my anger should physically burn him, but he only seemed more amused.

I’m trying to figure out what you are.

He raised his free hand and placed it gently on the side of my neck. I sat very still, the chill of his touch a natural warning — a warning telling me to be terrified. But there was no feeling of fear in me. There were, however, other feelings…

He’s telling everyone that he’s taking me to prom — either he’s insane or he’s still trying to make up for almost killing me last… well, you remember it, and he thinks prom is somehow the correct way to do this. So I figure if I endanger his life, then we’re even, and he can’t keep trying to make amends.

I tried to remember how to exhale. I had to look away before it came back to me.

Bella: How long have you been seventeen ?
Edward: A while.

I tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot.

He flashed a brilliant smile, looking at me appreciatively in a way I was learning to recognize.

What? Are you speaking to me again?