Chapter: Not Where He Was Supposed to Sit (Redo)
Next Monday
Forks High felt strange again.
Edward Cullen was back—sitting at lunch like nothing had happened, talking to Bella in that stiff, uncomfortable way that made it look less like a reunion and more like a hostage negotiation. Bella kept nodding, clearly trying to understand whatever half-explanations he was giving.
Yep, he thought. Plot's moving again.
Which meant it was the perfect time to not be involved.
He grabbed his tray and scanned the cafeteria for an empty table—preferably one in a corner, preferably with minimal eye contact required. He took a step toward freedom—
Tap.
A finger touched his shoulder.
His body startled before his mind caught up. He stumbled back half a step, barely keeping hold of his tray.
"S-sorry—" he started automatically, then looked up.
Rosalie Hale.
Up close, she was… worse. Not mean. Not hostile. Just intensely there. Perfect posture. Sharp eyes. Too tall. Too close.
"Oh," she said lightly. "Didn't mean to scare you."
She absolutely had.
"I—uh—hi," he managed, brain scrambling. Why is she talking to me? Isn't she with Emmett? This isn't right.
"You're Bella's brother," Rosalie said, already certain. "Austin."
"…Yeah."
Her gaze flicked over him—hoodie, posture, the way he already looked like he wanted to fold into himself—and something unreadable crossed her face.
"You were about to sit alone," she said.
He blinked. "I—yeah. I usually—"
"Come sit with us," she interrupted calmly.
Not a question.
Before he could think of a polite refusal, she stepped slightly to his side and lightly guided him by the shoulder—not pushing, just steering. The motion was effortless, confident, like she'd already decided and saw no reason to argue with herself.
His feet moved before his brain agreed.
Why am I walking? Stop walking. Why am I still walking—
They reached the Cullens' table.
Edward glanced up, surprise flickering for half a second before he smoothed it away. Emmett raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. Alice looked downright pleased.
Rosalie pulled out the chair next to hers.
"Sit," she said quietly.
Again—soft voice. Absolute certainty.
He hesitated.
Then sat.
Rosalie took her seat beside him, close enough that he was painfully aware of her presence but not touching. She turned to the others.
"This is Austin," she said. "Bella's brother."
Emmett grinned. "Nice to finally meet you."
He nodded awkwardly. "Uh… yeah. Hi."
Inside Rosalie's mind, everything sharpened.
Good, she thought. He listens. He's nervous. He's gentle.
Protective instinct coiled tight and heavy in her chest.
She angled her body just enough that she subtly blocked the flow of students passing behind him—shielding without making it obvious. Her gaze flicked up any time someone stared too long.
Mine to protect, she corrected herself. Not mine to rush.
He glanced at her once, confused, then quickly looked back at his tray.
This isn't how it's supposed to go, he thought. She's not supposed to notice me.
But Rosalie did.
And she had no intention of letting him fade into the background ever again.