"Well..." I hesitated. "I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."
What had made me say that? I supposed it was honest, at least. And perhaps she'd hear the unsubtle warning my words implied. Maybe she would realize that she should get up and walk away as quickly as possible...
She didn't get up. She stared at me, waiting, as if I'd left my sentence unfinished. "You know I don't have any idea what you mean," she said when I didn't continue.
That was a relief. I smiled.
"I know."
It was hard to ignore the thoughts screaming at me from behind her back - and I wanted to change the subject anyway.
"I think your friends are angry at me for stealing you."
This did not appear to concern her. "They'll survive."
"I may not give you back, though." I didn't even know if I was trying to be honest now, or just trying to tease her again. Being near her made it hard to make sense of my own thoughts.
Bella swallowed loudly.
I laughed at her expression. "You look worried." It really shouldn't be funny... She should worry.
"No." She was a bad liar; it didn't help that her voice broke. "Surprised,
actually.... What brought this on?"
"I told you," I reminded her. "I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up." I held my smile in place with a bit of effort. This wasn't working at all - trying to be honest and casual at the same time.
"Giving up?" she repeated, baffled.
"Yes - giving up trying to be good." And, apparently, giving up trying to be casual. "I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." That was honest enough. Let her see my selfishness. Let that warn her, too.
"You lost me again."
I was selfish enough to be glad that this was the case. "I always say too much when I'm talking to you - that's one of the problems."
A rather insignificant problem, compared to the rest.
"Don't worry," she reassured me. "I don't understand any of it."
Good. Then she'd stay. "I'm counting on that."
"So, in plain English, are we friends now?"
I pondered that for a second. "Friends..." I repeated. I didn't like the sound of that. It wasn't enough.
"Or not," she mumbled, looking embarrassed.
Did she think I didn't like her that much?
I smiled. "Well, we can try, I suppose. But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you."
I waited for her response, torn in two - wishing she would finally hear and understand, thinking I might die if she did. How melodramatic. I was turning into such a human.
Her heart beat faster. "You say that a lot."
"Yes, because you're not listening to me," I said, too intense again. "I'm still waiting for you to believe it. If you're smart, you'll avoid me."
Ah, but would I allow her to do that, if she tried?
Her eyes tightened. "I think you've made your opinion on the subject of my intellect clear, too."
I wasn't exactly sure what she meant, but I smiled in apology, guessing that I must have offended her accidentally.
"So," she said slowly. "As long as I'm being...not smart, we'll try to be friends?" "That sounds about right."
She looked down, staring intently at the lemonade bottle in her hands. The old curiosity tormented me.
"What are you thinking?" I asked - it was a relief to say the words out loud at last.
She met my gaze, and her breathing sped while her cheeks flushed faint pink. I inhaled, tasting that in the air.
"I'm trying to figure out what you are."
I held the smile on my face, locking my features that way, while panic twisted through my body.
Of course she was wondering that. She wasn't stupid. I couldn't hope for her to be oblivious to something so obvious.
"Are you having any luck with that?" I asked as lightly as I could manage. "Not too much," she admitted.
I chuckled in sudden relief. "What are your theories?"
They couldn't be worse than the truth, no matter what she'd come up with. Her cheeks turned brighter red, and she said nothing. I could feel the warmth of her blush in the air.
I tried using my persuasive tone on her. It worked well on normal humans. "Won't you tell me?" I smiled encouragingly.
She shook her head. "Too embarrassing."
Ugh. Not knowing was worse than anything else. Why would her speculations embarrass her? I couldn't stand not knowing.
"That's really frustrating, you know."
My complaint sparked something in her. Her eyes flashed and her words flowed more swiftly than usual.
"No, I can't imagine why that would be frustrating at all - just because someone refuses to tell you what they're thinking, even if all the while they're making cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering what they could possibly mean...now, why would that be frustrating?"