Midnight Sun (Twilight #1.5)(44)

"I think she's fainted," Mike said, anxious and resentful at the same time. "I don't know what happened, she didn't even stick her finger."

Relief washed through me, and I breathed again, tasting the air. Ah, I could smell the tiny flow of Mike Newton's puncture wound. Once, that might have appealed to me. I knelt beside her while Mike hovered next to me, furious at my intervention. "Bella. Can you hear me?"

"No," she moaned. "Go away."

The relief was so exquisite that I laughed. She was fine.

"I was taking her to the nurse," Mike said. "But she wouldn't go any farther." "I'll take her. You can go back to class," I said dismissively.

Mike's teeth clenched together. "No. I'm supposed to do it."

I wasn't going to stand around arguing with the wretch.

Thrilled and terrified, half-grateful to and half-aggrieved by the predicament which made touching her a necessity, I gently lifted Bella from the sidewalk and held her in my arms, touching only her clothes, keeping as much distance between our bodies as possible. I was striding forward in the same movement, in a hurry to have her safe - farther away from me, in other words.

Her eyes popped open, astonished.

"Put me down," she ordered in a weak voice - embarrassed again, I guessed from her expression. She didn't like to show weakness.

I barely heard Mike's shouted protest behind us.

"You look awful," I told her, grinning because there was nothing wrong with her but a light head and a weak stomach.

"Put me back on the sidewalk," she said. Her lips were white.

"So you faint at the sight of blood?" Could it get any more ironic?

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.

"And not even your own blood," I added, my grin widening.

We were to the front office. The door was propped an inch open, and I kicked it out of my way.

Ms. Cope jumped, startled. "Oh, my," she gasped as she examined the ashen girl in my arms.

"She fainted in Biology," I explained, before her imagination could get too out of hand.

Ms. Cope hurried to open the door to the nurse's office. Bella's eyes were open again, watching her. I heard the elderly nurse's internal astonishment as I laid the girl carefully on the one shabby bed. As soon as Bella was out of my arms, I put the width of the room between us. My body was too excited, too eager, my muscles tense and the venom flowing. She was so warm and fragrant.

"She's just a little faint," I reassured Mrs. Hammond. "They're blood typing in biology."

She nodded, understanding now. "There's always one."

I stifled a laugh. Trust Bella to be that one.

"Just lie down for a minute, honey," Mrs. Hammond said. "It'll pass."

"I know," Bella said.

"Does this happen often?" the nurse asked.

"Sometimes," Bella admitted.

I tried to disguise my laughter as coughing.

This brought me to the nurse's attention. "You can go back to class now," she said.

I looked her straight in the eye and lied with perfect confidence. "I'm supposed to stay with her."

Hmm. I wonder... oh well. Mrs. Hammond nodded.

It worked just fine on her. Why did Bella have to be so difficult? "I'll go get you some ice for your forehead, dear," the nurse said, slightly uncomfortable from looking into my eyes - the way a human should be - and left the room.

"You were right," Bella moaned, closing her eyes.

What did she mean? I jumped to the worst conclusion: she'd accepted my warnings.

"I usually am," I said, trying to keep the amusement in my voice; it sounded sour now. "But about what in particular this time?"

"Ditching is healthy," she sighed.

Ah, relief again.

She was silent then. She just breathed slowly in and out. Her lips were beginning to turn pink. Her mouth was slightly out of balance, her lower lip just a little too full to match the top. Staring at her mouth made me feel strange. Made me want to move closer to her, which was not a good idea.

"You scared me for a minute there," I said - to restart the conversation so that I could hear her voice again. "I thought Newton was dragging your dead body off to bury it in the woods."

"Ha ha," she said.

"Honestly - I've seen corpses with better color." This was actually true. "I was concerned that I might have to avenge your murder." And I would have.

"Poor Mike," she sighed. "I'll bet he's mad."

Fury pulsed through me, but I contained it quickly. Her concern was surely just pity. She was kind. That was all.

"He absolutely loathes me," I told her, cheered by that idea.

"You can't know that."

"I saw his face - I could tell." It was probably true that reading his face would have given me enough information to make that particular deduction. All this practice with Bella was sharpening my skill at reading human expressions.

"How did you see me? I thought you were ditching." Her face looked better - the green undertone had vanished from her translucent skin.

"I was in my car, listening to a CD."

Her expression twitched, like my very ordinary answer had surprised her somehow.