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I
began
gathering
up
my
things
slowly
,
trying
to
block
the
anger
that
filled
me
,
for
fear
my
eyes
would
tear
up
.
For
some
reason
,
my
temper
was
hardwired
to
my
tear
ducts
.
I
usually
cried
when
I
was
angry
,
a
humiliating
tendency
.
"
Aren
’
t
you
Isabella
Swan
?
"
a
male
voice
asked
.
I
looked
up
to
see
a
cute
,
baby
-
faced
boy
,
his
pale
blond
hair
carefully
gelled
into
orderly
spikes
,
smiling
at
me
in
a
friendly
way
.
He
obviously
didn
’
t
think
I
smelled
bad
.
"
Bella
,
"
I
corrected
him
,
with
a
smile
.
"
I
’
m
Mike
.
"
"
Hi
,
Mike
.
"
"
Do
you
need
any
help
finding
your
next
class
?
"
"
I
’
m
headed
to
the
gym
,
actually
.
I
think
I
can
find
it
.
"
"
That
’
s
my
next
class
,
too
.
"
He
seemed
thrilled
,
though
it
wasn
’
t
that
big
of
a
coincidence
in
a
school
this
small
.
We
walked
to
class
together
;
he
was
a
chatterer
-
he
supplied
most
of
the
conversation
,
which
made
it
easy
for
me
.
He
’
d
lived
in
California
till
he
was
ten
,
so
he
knew
how
I
felt
about
the
sun
.
It
turned
out
he
was
in
my
English
class
also
.
He
was
the
nicest
person
I
’
d
met
today
.
