For the rest of the lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my owntable. I decided to honor the bargain I&`&d made with myself. Since hedidn&`&t look angry, I would go to Biology. My stomach did frightenedlittle flips at the thought of sitting next to him again. 　　I didn&`&t really want to walk to class with Mike as usual — he seemed tobe a popular target for the snowball snipers — but when we went to thedoor, everyone besides me groaned in unison. It was raining, washing alltraces of the snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the side of thewalkway. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I would be free to gostraight home after Gym. 　　Mike kept up a string of complaints on the way to building four. 　　Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that my table was stillempty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing onemicroscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn&`&t start for a fewminutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away fromthe door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook. 　　I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayedcarefully focused on the pattern I was drawing. 　　"Hello," said a quiet, musical voice. 　　I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was sitting as faraway from me as the desk allowed, but his chair was angled toward me. Hishair was dripping wet, disheveled — even so, he looked like he&`&d justfinished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His dazzling face wasfriendly, open, a slight smile on his flawless lips. But his eyes werecareful. 　　"My name is Edward Cullen," he continued. "I didn&`&t have a chance tointroduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan."My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? Hewas perfectly polite now. I had to speak; he was waiting. But I couldn&`&tthink of anything conventional to say. 　　"H-how do you know my name?" I stammered. 　　He laughed a soft, enchanting laugh. 　　"Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town&`&s been waiting foryou to arrive."I grimaced. I knew it was something like that. 　　"No," I persisted stupidly. "I meant, why did you call me Bella?"He seemed confused. "Do you prefer Isabella?""No, I like Bella," I said. "But I think Charlie — I mean my dad — mustcall me Isabella behind my back — that&`&s what everyone here seems to knowme as," I tried to explain, feeling like an utter moron. 　　"Oh." He let it drop. I looked away awkwardly. 　　Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried toconcentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slidesin the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separatethe slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis theyrepresented and label them accordingly. We weren&`&t supposed to use ourbooks. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right. "Get started," he commanded.