Сумерки

           Isatinoneofthecreakyfoldingchairsandrestedmyheadagainstthewallwithmyeyesclosed.Faintingspellsalwaysexhaustedme.

           IheardEdwardspeakingsoftlyatthecounter.

           "Ms.Cope?"

           "Yes?"Ihadn’theardherreturntoherdesk.

           "BellahasGymnexthour,andIdon’tthinkshefeelswellenough.

           Actually,IwasthinkingIshouldtakeherhomenow.Doyouthinkyoucouldexcuseherfromclass?"Hisvoicewaslikemeltinghoney.Icouldimaginehowmuchmoreoverwhelminghiseyeswouldbe.

           "Doyouneedtobeexcused,too,Edward?"Ms.Copefluttered.Whycouldn’tIdothat?

           "No,IhaveMrs.Goff,shewon’tmind."

           "Okay,it’salltakencareof.Youfeelbetter,Bella,"shecalledtome.Inoddedweakly,hammingitupjustabit.

           "Canyouwalk,ordoyouwantmetocarryyouagain?"Withhisbacktothereceptionist,hisexpressionbecamesarcastic.

           "I’llwalk."

           Istoodcarefully,andIwasstillfine.Heheldthedoorforme,hissmilepolitebuthiseyesmocking.Iwalkedoutintothecold,finemistthathadjustbeguntofall.Itfeltnice-thefirsttimeI’denjoyedtheconstantmoisturefallingoutofthesky-asitwashedmyfacecleanofthestickyperspiration.

           "Thanks,"Isaidashefollowedmeout."It’salmostworthgettingsicktomissGym."

           "Anytime."Hewasstaringstraightforward,squintingintotherain.

           "Soareyougoing?ThisSaturday,Imean?"Iwashopinghewould,thoughitseemedunlikely.Icouldn’tpicturehimloadinguptocarpoolwiththerestofthekidsfromschool;hedidn’tbelonginthesameworld.