𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐦 | 𝐜.𝐝 𝐟𝐟

𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩.

I went to class, feeling dutiful. I couldn't honestly say what happened in Biology; my mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of tomorrow. In Gym, Mike was speaking to me again; he wished me a good time in Seattle. I carefully explained that I'd cancelled my trip, worried about my Audi.

"Are you going to the dance with Cullen?" he asked, suddenly sulky.

"No, I'm not going to the dance at all."

"What are you doing, then?" he asked, too interested.

My natural urge was to tell him to butt out. Instead, I lied brightly.

"Laundry, and then I have to study for the Trig test or I'm going to fail."

"Is Cullen helping you study?"

"Edward," I emphasized, "is not going to help me study. He's gone away somewhere for the weekend." The lies came naturally.

"Oh." He perked up. "You know, you could come to the dance with our group anyway — that would be cool. We'd all dance with you," he promised.

The mental image of Jessica's face made my tone sharper than necessary. I'd rather suffer through the Yule ball again.

"I'm not going to the dance, Mike, okay?"

"Fine." He sulked again. "I was just offering."

When the school day had finally ended, I walked to the parking lot without enthusiasm.

I did not especially want to walk home, but I couldn't see how he would have retrieved my keys. Then again, I was starting to believe that nothing was impossible for him. The latter instinct proved correct — my key in the ignition.

There was a piece of white paper folded on my seat. I got in and closed the door before I unfolded it. Two words were written in his elegant script.

Be safe.

The sound of the Audi roaring to life frightened me. I laughed at myself. I patiently waited for my friends in the warm interior of the Audi. I could see they were frantic when they arrived. Slightly confused when they saw me in the car, the Audi vibrating in its place but relieved nonetheless.

Following the same instinct that had prompted me to lie to Mike, I called Jessica on the pretence of wishing her luck at the dance. When she offered the same wish for my day with Edward (Cedric), I told her about the cancellation. She was more disappointed than really necessary for a third-party observer to be. I said goodbye quickly after that.

Parkinson was absentminded at dinner, worried over something she saw, I guessed, or maybe a fashion disaster, or maybe she was just really enjoying the lasagna — it was hard to tell with Parkinson, she his her feelings well.

"I hope you guys have fun at the dance." I wished them, filling the silent tension.

"Can't you come with us? As a group?" Malfoy prompted.

"No, you guys have dates. I don't want to intrude." I insisted.

"I can ditch her. I'll stay home with you if you want?" Nott suggested.

"No, Theo, don't change your plans. I've got a million things to do... homework, laundry... I need to go to the library and the grocery store. I'll be in and out all day... you guys go and have fun."

"Are you sure?" Zabini asked, just to be sure I guess.

"Absolutely. Besides, the pantry is getting dangerously low on Draught of Peace — we're down to a two, maybe three years' supply."

"You're sure easy to live with, Zayra." He smiled.

"I could say the same thing about you guys," I said, laughing. The sound of my laughter was off, but no one seem to notice. I felt so guilty for deceiving him that I almost took Cedric's advice and told them where I would be. Almost.

After dinner, I folded our clothes and moved another load through the dryer. Unfortunately it was the kind of job that only keeps hands busy. My mind definitely had too much free time, and it was getting out of control. I fluctuated between anticipation so intense that it was very nearly pain, and an insidious fear that picked at my resolve. I had to keep reminding myself that I'd made my choice, and I wasn't going back on it. I pulled his note out of my pocket much more often than necessary to absorb the two small words he'd written.

He wants me to be safe, I told myself again and again. I would just hold on to the faith that, in the end, that desire would win out over the others. And what was my other choice — to cut him out of my life? Intolerable. Besides, since I'd come to Forks, it really seemed like my life was about him.

But a tiny voice in the back of my mind worried, wondering if it would hurt very much... if it ended badly.

I was relieved when it was late enough to be acceptable for bedtime. I knew I was far too stressed to sleep, so I did something I'd never done before. I deliberately took unnecessary Draughts of Peace — the kind of amount that knocked me out for a good eight hours. I normally wouldn't condone that type of behavior in myself, but tomorrow would be complicated enough without me being loopy from sleep deprivation on top of everything else. While I waited for the potion to kick in, I dried my clean hair till it was impeccably straight, and fussed over what I would wear tomorrow.

With everything ready for the morning, I finally lay in my bed. I felt hyper; I couldn't stop twitching. I got up and rifled through my shoebox of CDs until I found a collection of Chopin's nocturnes. I put that on very quietly and then lay down again, concentrating on relaxing individual parts of my body. Somewhere in the middle of that exercise, the potion took effect, and I gladly sank into unconsciousness.

I woke early, having slept soundly and dreamlessly thanks to my gratuitous potion use. Though I was well rested, I slipped right back into the same hectic frenzy from the night before.

I dressed in a rush, smoothing my collar against my neck, fidgeting with the tan sweater till it hung right over my jeans. I sneaked a swift look into everyone's room. Still asleep.

A thin, cottony layer of clouds veiled the sky. They didn't look very lasting. I ate breakfast without tasting the food, hurrying to clean up when I was done. I peeked out the window again, but nothing had changed. I had just finished brushing my teeth and was heading back downstairs when a quiet knock sent my heart thudding against my rib cage.

I flew to the door; I had a little trouble with the simple dead bolt, but I yanked the door open at last, and there he was. All the agitation dissolved as soon as I looked at his face, calm taking its place. I breathed a sigh of relief — yesterday's fears seemed very foolish with him here.

He wasn't smiling at first — his face was somber. But then his expression lightened as he looked me over, and he laughed.

"Good morning," he chuckled.

"What's wrong?" I glanced down to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything important, like shoes, or pants.

"We match." He laughed again.

I realized he had a long, light tan sweater on, with a white collar showing underneath, and blue jeans. I laughed with him, hiding a secret twinge of regret — I should have worn something green.

I locked the door behind me while he walked to the truck. He waited by the passenger door with a martyred expression that was easy to understand.

"We made a deal," I reminded him smugly, climbing into the driver's seat, and reaching over to unlock his door.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Put your seat belt on — I'm nervous already." I gave him a dirty look as I complied.

"Where to?" I repeated with a sigh.

"Take the one-oh-one north," he ordered.

It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while feeling his gaze on my face. I compensated by driving more carefully than usual through the still-sleeping town.

"Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?"

"This isn't my car. I'm not planning to wreck it yet," I retorted.

We were soon out of the town limits, despite his negativity. Thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks replaced the lawns and houses.