Сумерки

           Wewerefinishedbeforeanyoneelsewasclose.IcouldseeMikeandhispartnercomparingtwoslidesagainandagain,andanothergrouphadtheirbookopenunderthetable.

           Whichleftmewithnothingtodobuttrytonotlookathim...unsuccessfully.Iglancedup,andhewasstaringatme,thatsameinexplicablelookoffrustrationinhiseyes.SuddenlyIidentifiedthatsubtledifferenceinhisface.

           "Didyougetcontacts?"Iblurtedoutunthinkingly.

           Heseemedpuzzledbymyunexpectedquestion."No."

           "Oh,"Imumbled."Ithoughttherewassomethingdifferentaboutyoureyes."

           Heshrugged,andlookedaway.

           Infact,Iwassuretherewassomethingdifferent.Ivividlyrememberedtheflatblackcolorofhiseyesthelasttimehe’dglaredatme-thecolorwasstrikingagainstthebackgroundofhispaleskinandhisauburnhair.Today,hiseyeswereacompletelydifferentcolor:astrangeocher,darkerthanbutterscotch,butwiththesamegoldentone.Ididn’tunderstandhowthatcouldbe,unlesshewaslyingforsomereasonaboutthecontacts.OrmaybeForkswasmakingmecrazyintheliteralsenseoftheword.

           Ilookeddown.Hishandswereclenchedintohardfistsagain.

           Mr.Bannercametoourtablethen,toseewhyweweren’tworking.Helookedoverourshoulderstoglanceatthecompletedlab,andthenstaredmoreintentlytochecktheanswers.

           "So,Edward,didn’tyouthinkIsabellashouldgetachancewiththemicroscope?"Mr.Bannerasked.

           "Bella,"Edwardcorrectedautomatically."Actually,sheidentifiedthreeofthefive."

           Mr.