The morning started weird. I handed Bella the keys to my car, only for her to frown like I'd just told her her favorite book was getting a bad movie adaptation.
"Why aren't we taking the truck?" she asked, hugging her jacket tighter against the chill.
"Because fate's cruel, rusty metal box of doom is not getting near you today," I said, jingling the keys like a magician about to reveal my grand trick. "We're taking my car. End of discussion."
She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "You just don't like how it smells."
"That too. Eau de rust and despair isn't really my thing."
The ride was mercifully uneventful. No crashes, no sudden meteor strikes, no spontaneous vampire attacks. But when it came time to park, I refused to pull into our usual spot. Instead, I drove all the way to the far end of the lot, past three perfectly good spaces, and slid into a lonely spot by the fence.
Bella groaned like I'd just sentenced her to a year of gym class.
"You're making me walk extra in the freezing cold," she said, glaring at me like I was a war criminal.
"Exercise builds character," I teased. "Besides, maybe the fresh air will put some color in your cheeks. Right now, you look like a delicate Victorian ghost."
She muttered under her breath, something about "weird cousins with superiority complexes," but trudged along anyway.
I, however, was on high alert. Every hallway felt like the set of a horror movie. I half-expected a random piano chord to play each time I rounded a corner. The lockers clanged too loudly, footsteps echoed ominously, and every squeak of sneakers on linoleum had me bracing like fate itself was about to drop an anvil on our heads.
By the time we hit the cafeteria, my nerves were stretched thinner than Bella's patience with my commentary. She slammed her tray down on the table hard enough that her milk carton did a nervous little wobble.
She leaned in, eyes narrowed. "Okay, what's with you today? You're twitchier than a squirrel on espresso."
I forced a smile, shoving a fry in my mouth for cover. "Didn't sleep well. Probably just hungry."
Bella raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Uh-huh. Because normal hunger makes people flinch when the ketchup bottle squeaks."
I choked on my fry. "It startled me!"
Bella rolled her eyes, but the look she gave me said I know you're lying, and I'm going to figure it out.
Meanwhile, classes dragged like someone had hit slow motion on my life. Every bell rang like a death knell, and every time I caught Bella fiddling with her pen or staring dreamily out the window, I wanted to wrap her in bubble wrap and duct-tape her to a chair for her own protection.
By the last period, I was so tense I could probably crack walnuts with my jaw. Bella, of course, just doodled flowers in the margins of her notes, blissfully unaware of the universe's favorite hobby: trying to kill her.
And then, walking out together, she turned to me with a little sparkle in her eye. "So, um… Edward actually talked to me today in biology."
She started rambling something about lab partners, awkward questions, his weird mood but honestly? My brain tuned her out like static. I nodded at all the right places, smiled where I was supposed to, but my thoughts were a hundred miles away.
Because while Bella was busy talking about her mysterious lab partner, I was busy imagining a giant neon sign flashing above us: DANGER MAGNET AT WORK.
After school, we trudged back to my car. Well I trudged. Bella floated like she was in a perfume commercial, her eyes locked on the Cullens across the lot, zero awareness of anything else. Specifically, one too-perfect Edward.
She bit her lip, dreamy. I sighed.
"Bella, please. Goo-goo eyes later. Car now." I jingled my keys with all the authority of a reluctant babysitter.
"You don't understand," she whispered, still staring.
"Oh, I understand," I muttered. "Romeo over there sparkles without even trying, but you're about to turn into a popsicle if you keep standing.."
That's when it happened.
A horrible squeal of tires ripped through the lot. My head snapped around just in time to see a truck fishtailing, sliding straight toward us.
Not toward our old parking spot no. Right here. Exactly where fate knew Bella would be.
Time slowed. Bella's eyes went wide. I shoved her shoulder instinctively. "Move!"
But then...
The truck… just stopped. Tires screeched, smoke hissed, metal trembled but it froze a few feet away from me. Inches.
I nearly fell over from the adrenaline rush, my heart pounding like it was auditioning for a metal band.
And then it hit me.
Oh. Right. My luck blessing.
I'd shoved it into the back of my brain, written it off as some cosmic joke. But apparently, it was real. And apparently, it had just yeeted physics in the face and saved us.
Meanwhile, Bella gasped and spun only to find Edward Cullen crouched dramatically in front of her, one hand outstretched like a Greek god about to stop a meteor.
The only problem? There was absolutely nothing in front of him.
His pose was perfect. His timing impeccable. His heroic moment? Totally wasted.
Bella blinked between the halted truck near me and Edward's hand cutting through thin air. "Um…"
I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying and failing not to burst into laughter. A squeak escaped anyway.
Edward's jaw was tight, his voice low. "Are you hurt?"
I lost it. "She's fine, Superman. Your cape's in the laundry."
Bella elbowed me, hissing, "Don't be rude!" Her cheeks were red, though not just embarrassment, but something else. Something suspicious.
And then came the cherry on the sundae. Bella turned to Edward, blinking innocently. "Wait… how did you get here so fast? You were way over by your car a second ago."
Edward froze. Like statue, marble, straight out of an art gallery froze. His mouth opened slightly, then closed. No sound. Just silence.
The Cullens, gathered a short distance away, looked anything but pleased. Their perfect masks cracked under the weight of Edward's very public stunt.
Alice's smile was gone now, her usual sparkle dimmed into sharp unease.
Jasper kept his face carefully blank, but the stiffness in his shoulders gave him away.
Emmett's amusement flickered out, replaced by the look of someone who knew this was not going to blow over quietly.
And then there was Rosalie.
Her beauty had never looked so dangerous. Fury rolled off her in waves, each glare a dagger aimed straight at Edward. If looks could kill, he would have been reduced to ashes on the spot. Out of all of them, her rage was the loudest, a silent declaration: he had risked everything.
Before Bella could ask more questions, sirens wailed. The Tyler was pale and trembling, shouting about his brakes failing. Teachers were yelling. And the next thing I knew, paramedics were ushering us into the back of an ambulance.
"I'm fine," I insisted for the third time. "Look, no scratches, not even a frizzed hair."
"Protocol," the EMT replied like it was law carved into stone tablets.
Beside me, Bella crossed her arms, sulking. "This is so stupid."
"Look on the bright side," I said. "Free ride, flashing lights, and Edward's tragic flop of the century."
Bella bit her lip again, trying not to laugh. But when she finally snorted, I knew victory was mine.
Leaning back, I exhaled. My heart still hadn't slowed, but one thing was crystal clear.
Edward Cullen hadn't saved Bella.
My luck blessing had.
And poor Edward? He was left crouching dramatically in the middle of a parking lot, hand extended toward absolutely nothing.
Iconic.
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