Everyone was watching us as we walked together to our lab table. I noticed that he never sat down in the corner of his chair again, as far away from me as the table allowed. Instead, he was so close to me that our arms almost touched.

Then Mr. Ruth returned to the classroom - the man's sense of time was absolutely top-notch - pulling a tall metal shelf on wheels with an old-fashioned, bulky-looking television and video recorder. A movie day - the high atmosphere in the classroom can almost be felt.

Mr. Ruth pushed the tape into the reluctant VCR and walked to the wall and turned off the lights.

Then, when the classroom was completely dark, I suddenly realized that Roger was sitting next to me, less than a few centimeters away. I was shaken by an unexpected electric current flowing through my body, and I was surprised to find myself perhaps more aware of Roger's presence than I had already done. A mad impulse to reach out in the darkness and touch him, to caress his perfect face, and this time it almost conquered me. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest and my hands clenched into fists. I'm going crazy.

The opening credits begin, and the faint light illuminates the room. My eyes, out of their own volition, glanced at him quickly. I smiled sheepishly when I realized that he was in exactly the same posture as me, also clenched into fists under his arms, and from under his nose, secretly aiming at me. He grinned at me, and for some reason, his eyes burned oppressively in the darkness. Before I could breathe steadily, I looked away. It's ridiculous, I feel dizzy.

The hour went by very long. I couldn't focus on the film – I didn't even know what it was about. I tried to relax, but to no avail, and the current seemed to be coming from somewhere on his body, never slowing down. Occasionally I would allow myself to glance quickly in his direction, but he never seemed to let up. The kind of irresistible, touching him, refused to go away, and I had to press my fist safely under my elbow until my fingers began to rise from the pressure.

When Mr. Ruth turned on the light at the end of the class, I breathed a sigh of relief and relievedness. I stretched my arm forward, moving my stiff fingers. Roger chuckled behind my back.

"Well, that's interesting." He whispered. His voice was dark, and his eyes were cautious.

"Hmm." It's all I can react to.

"Shall we go?" He asked, nimbly standing up.

I almost spoke up. It's time for physical education. I stood up cautiously, fearing that my balance would be affected by the emerging, odd tension between us.

He silently accompanied me to the next class, then stopped outside the door, and I turned to say goodbye. His face startled me—his expression was utterly struggling, almost painful, yet so brutally beautiful. Trying to touch him burned again, as strong as before. My goodbye was stuck in my throat.

He hesitantly reached out his hand, contradiction welling up in his eyes, and then he quickly brushed my fingertips lightly across my cheekbones. His skin was still so cold, but the footsteps of his fingertips on mine were surprisingly warm—as if I had been burned, but I didn't feel the pain of the burning at all.

Without saying a word, he turned away and strode away from me.

I was dizzy and walked unsteadily into the gymnasium. I wandered into the locker room and changed my clothes in a trance, only vaguely aware that there were other people around me. It wasn't until I picked up the racket that the realism was fully back in my sanity. The racket wasn't very heavy, but it looked very unsafe in my hands. I could see some of the other kids in the class sneaking their eyes on me. Coach Clapon asked us to form our own teams.

Luckily, what remnants of chivalry were still in Jack, and he walked over and stood next to me.

"Would you like to be on my team?"

"Thanks, Jack—you really don't have to, you know." I grimaced apologetically.

"Don't worry, I'll stay away from you." He grinned. Sometimes it's easy to fall in love with Jack.

It didn't go so well. I managed to hit myself in the head for unknown reasons, and I hit Jack in the shoulder with the same swing. For the rest of the hour, I stayed in the back corner of the courtyard, my racket safely held behind my back. Despite the slight loss due to my presence, Jack did a great job: he won three of the four races on his own. When Coach Claypen finally blew the whistle and announced the end of the class, he gave me a high score of five for nothing.

"So," he said as we walked out of the courtyard together.

"So what?"

"You and Wright, huh?" He asked, his tone rebellious. The feeling I loved earlier was gone.

"It's none of your business, Jack." I warned, cursing Mary to the eighteen levels of hell in my heart.

"I don't like that." Anyway, he complained and said it.

"You don't have to like it." I yelled.

"He looks at you like ...... It's like you're a big meal. He ignored me and continued.

I choked on a burst of spur that threatened to erupt, but a slight gurgling sound defied my efforts to escape. He glared at me. I waved at him and fled into the locker room.

I quickly changed my clothes, something more powerful than a butterfly slamming into the lining of my stomach in desperation, and my argument with Jack had become a distant memory. I wondered if Roger was waiting, or if I had to meet him in his car. What should I do if his family is also there? I felt a real sense of fear. Do they know I know? Or can I be allowed to know that they know I do?

When I walked out of the gymnasium, I was almost determined to walk straight home, not even daring to look at the parking lot. But my worries are unfounded. Roger was waiting for me, leaning against the outer wall of the gymnasium as if nothing had happened, his beautiful face now showing no worry. As I walked towards him, I felt a strange feeling of forgiveness.

"Hey." I gasped, smiling widely.

"Hello." He replied, smiling brightly. "How's gym class?"

My face collapsed slightly. "Good." I lied.

"Really?" He was skeptical. His eyes focused slightly, looked over my shoulder, and then narrowed. I glanced back, only to see Jack's back leaving.

"What?" I asked.

His gaze fell back on me, still fascinating. "Pascal is upsetting me."

"Aren't you listening again?" I was terrified. All my sudden good mood was zero.

"How's your head?" He asked innocently.

"You're unbelievable!" I turned around and walked heavily towards the general direction of the parking lot, though I hadn't ruled out walking back at the moment. He easily followed me.

"It's you've been emphasizing that I haven't seen you in gym class - it makes me curious." He sounded unrepentant, so I ignored him.

We walked in silence—a furious, embarrassed silence, in my opinion—toward his car. But I had to stop a few meters away -- a group of people, all boys, were surrounding it.

Then I realized that they weren't around the Volvo, they were actually looking at Alice's red convertible, and it was clearly written in their eyes. When Roger walked among them and opened his own car door, none of them even looked up. I quickly climbed into the passenger seat, again unnoticed.

"It's too pompous." He muttered to himself.

"What kind of car is this?" I asked.

"An M3."

"I'm not going to say the proper nouns in 'Cars & Driving.'"

"It's a BMW." He rolled his eyes away from me, trying to reverse the car without running over the crowd of car enthusiasts.

I nodded—I'd heard of it.

"Are you still angry?" He asked as he carefully drove the car out.

"Pretty sure."

He sighed. "If I apologize, will you forgive me?"

"Maybe...... If you're sincere. And you have to promise never to do it again. "I persisted.

His eyes suddenly became shrewd. "I'm sincere, and I've agreed to let you drive on Saturday, how about that?" He rejected my condition.

I thought about it, and then decided that this might be the highest bid I could get. "Deal." I agreed.

"Well, I'm sorry I you off." There was a fire of sincerity burning in his eyes, which burned for a long time—badly disrupting the rhythm of my continuation—and then turned into a playful look. "And on a sunny Saturday, I'll be standing on the doorstep of your house early in the morning."

"Well, if an unsolicited Volvo is parked in the driveway, it won't help Chuck's situation."

Now his smile was humble: "I didn't plan to drive there. ”

"How-"

He interrupted me. "Don't worry about this, I'll be there, I won't drive."

I dropped the subject. I have a more important question to ask.

"Is this the next time?" I asked meaningfully.

He frowned, "I guess it's next time." ”

I kept a polite expression and waited.

He parked the car. I looked up in surprise - of course, we were already at Chuck's house, parked behind the truck. It would have been easier for me to ride with him if I had only been focused on when it would be over. When I looked back at him, he was looking at me, measuring me with his eyes.

"Do you still want to know why you can't go and watch me hunt?" He said it seriously, but I think I saw a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Okay," I clarified. "What I'm most curious about is your reaction."

"Did I scare you?" That's right, the joke in his eyes is obvious.

"Nope." I lied. He didn't buy me.

"I apologize for scaring you." He stubbornly maintained a light smile, but then, all signs of mockery disappeared. "That's really thinking of you being there...... Reactions when we hunt. His jaw tightened.

"Would that be bad?"

He squeezed a few words out between his clenched teeth. "Extremely bad"

"Because ......?"

He took a deep breath and looked out of the windshield, staring at the surging clouds that seemed to be coming down, almost within reach.

"When we hunt," he said very slowly, very reluctantly. "We act on our feelings...... Almost uncontrolled by our own will, we are especially dependent on our sense of smell. If you were anywhere around me while I was out of control like that......" He shook his head, still staring melancholy at the heavy clouds.

I was determined to control my expression, hoping that his eyes would then sweep over and gauge my reaction. My face didn't give away any information.

But our eyes froze, and the silence intensified – and changed. The flickering current I felt this afternoon began to take control of the atmosphere, and he stared into my eyes without relenting. It wasn't until my head started to get dizzy that I realized I wasn't breathing. He closed his eyes as I took a deep breath in a daze and broke the silence.

"Bella, I think you should go inside now." His deep voice was hoarse, and he began to look at the clouds again.

I opened the door, and a cold gust of cold wind poured into the car, clearing my mind. Fearing that I would trip over this dizziness, I cautiously stepped out of the car and closed the door behind me without looking back. The whirring of the power windows coming down made me turn around.

"Oh, Bella?" He shouted behind me, his voice calmer. He leaned over the open window, a small smile on his lips.

"What's wrong?"

"It's my turn tomorrow."

"What's your turn?"

He smiled even more, revealing his shiny teeth: "Ask." ”

Then he was gone, and the car sped into the street and disappeared around the corner, before I could clear my thoughts. I smiled and walked towards the room. This indicates that he plans to meet me tomorrow, if there are no surprises.