初中英语听力：《暮光之城》系列有声读物在线听，附听力内容：

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　　But they were all in, and Edward was speeding away. I drove home slowly,

　　carefully, muttering to myself the whole way.

　　When I got home, I decided to make chicken enchiladas for dinner. It was

　　a long process, and it would keep me busy. While I was simmering the

　　onions and chilies, the phone rang. I was almost afraid to answer it, but

　　it might be Charlie or my mom.

　　It was Jessica, and she was jubilant; Mike had caught her after school to

　　accept her invitation. I celebrated with her briefly while I stirred. She

　　had to go, she wanted to call Angela and Lauren to tell them. I suggested

　　— with casual innocence — that maybe Angela, the shy girl who had Biology

　　

　　with me, could ask Eric. And Lauren, a standoffish girl who had always

　　ignored me at the lunch table, could ask Tyler; I'd heard he was still

　　available. Jess thought that was a great idea. Now that she was sure of

　　Mike, she actually sounded sincere when she said she wished I would go to

　　the dance. I gave her my Seattle excuse.

　　After I hung up, I tried to concentrate on dinner — dicing the chicken

　　especially; I didn't want to take another trip to the emergency room. But

　　my head was spinning, trying to analyze every word Edward had spoken

　　today. What did he mean, it was better if we weren't friends?

　　My stomach twisted as I realized what he must have meant. He must see how

　　absorbed I was by him; he must not want to lead me on… so we couldn't

　　even be friends… because he wasn't interested in me at all.

　　Of course he wasn't interested in me, I thought angrily, my eyes stinging

　　— a delayed reaction to the onions. I wasn't interesting. And he was.

　　Interesting… and brilliant… and mysterious… and perfect… and beautiful…

　　and possibly able to lift full-sized vans with one hand.

　　Well, that was fine. I could leave him alone. I would leave him alone. I

　　would get through my self-imposed sentence here in purgatory, and then

　　hopefully some school in the Southwest, or possibly Hawaii, would offer

　　me a scholarship. I focused my thoughts on sunny beaches and palm trees

　　as I finished the enchiladas and put them in the oven.

　　Charlie seemed suspicious when he came home and smelled the green

　　peppers. I couldn't blame him — the closest edible Mexican food was

　　probably in southern California. But he was a cop, even if just a

　　small-town cop, so he was brave enough to take the first bite. He seemed

　　to like it. It was fun to watch as he slowly began trusting me in the

　　kitchen.

　　"Dad?" I asked when he was almost done.

　　"Yeah, Bella?"

　　"Um, I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to Seattle for the day

　　a week from Saturday… if that's okay?" I didn't want to ask permission —

　　it set a bad precedent — but I felt rude, so I tacked it on at the end.

　　"Why?" He sounded surprised, as if he were unable to imagine something

　　that Forks couldn't offer.

　　"Well, I wanted to get few books — the library here is pretty limited —

　　and maybe look at some clothes." I had more money than I was used to

　　having, since, thanks to Charlie, I hadn't had to pay for a car. Not that

　　the truck didn't cost me quite a bit in the gas department.

　　"That truck probably doesn't get very good gas mileage," he said, echoing

　　my thoughts.

　　"I know, I'll stop in Montesano and Olympia — and Tacoma if I have to."

　　"Are you going all by yourself?" he asked, and I couldn't tell if he was

　　suspicious I had a secret boyfriend or just worried about car trouble.

　　"Yes."

　　"Seattle is a big city — you could get lost," he fretted.

　　"Dad, Phoenix is five times the size of Seattle — and I can read a map,

　　don't worry about it."

　　"Do you want me to come with you?"

　　I tried to be crafty as I hid my horror.

　　"That's all right, Dad, I'll probably just be in dressing rooms all day —

　　very boring."

　　"Oh, okay." The thought of sitting in women's clothing stores for any

　　

　　period of time immediately put him off.

　　"Thanks." I smiled at him.

　　"Will you be back in time for the dance?"

　　Grrr. Only in a town this small would a father know when the high school

　　dances were.

　　"No — I don't dance, Dad." He, of all people, should understand that — I

　　didn't get my balance problems from my mother.

　　He did understand. "Oh, that's right," he realized.

　　The next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot, I deliberately

　　parked as far as possible from the silver Volvo. I didn't want to put

　　myself in the path of too much temptation and end up owing him a new car.

　　Getting out of the cab, I fumbled with my key and it fell into a puddle

　　at my feet. As I bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and grabbed it

　　before I could. I jerked upright. Edward Cullen was right next to me,

　　leaning casually against my truck.

　　"How do you do that?" I asked in amazed irritation.

　　"Do what?" He held my key out as he spoke. As I reached for it, he

　　dropped it into my palm.

　　"Appear out of thin air."

　　"Bella, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant." His

　　voice was quiet as usual — velvet, muted.

　　I scowled at his perfect face. His eyes were light again today, a deep,

　　golden honey color. Then I had to look down, to reassemble my now-tangled

　　thoughts.

　　"Why the traffic jam last night?" I demanded, still looking away. "I

　　thought you were supposed to be pretending I don't exist, not irritating

　　me to death."

　　"That was for Tyler's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." He

　　snickered.

　　"You…" I gasped. I couldn't think of a bad enough word. It felt like the

　　heat of my anger should physically burn him, but he only seemed more

　　amused.

　　"And I'm not pretending you don't exist," he continued.

　　"So you are trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler's van didn't do

　　the job?"

　　Anger flashed in his tawny eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, all

　　signs of humor gone.

　　"Bella, you are utterly absurd," he said, his low voice cold.

　　My palms tingled — I wanted so badly to hit something. I was surprised at

　　myself. I was usually a nonviolent person. I turned my back and started

　　to walk away.

　　"Wait," he called. I kept walking, sloshing angrily through the rain. But

　　he was next to me, easily keeping pace.

　　"I'm sorry, that was rude," he said as we walked. I ignored him. "I'm not

　　saying it isn't true," he continued, "but it was rude to say it, anyway."

　　"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled.

　　"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," he chuckled. He

　　seemed to have recovered his good humor.

　　

　　"Do you have a multiple personality disorder?" I asked severely.

　　"You're doing it again."

　　I sighed. "Fine then. What do you want to ask?"

　　"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday — you know, the day of the

　　spring dance —"

　　"Are you trying to be funny?" I interrupted him, wheeling toward him. My

　　face got drenched as I looked up at his expression.

　　His eyes were wickedly amused. "Will you please allow me to finish?"

　　I bit my lip and clasped my hands together, interlocking my fingers, so I

　　couldn't do anything rash.

　　"I heard you say you were going to Seattle that day, and I was wondering

　　if you wanted a ride."

　　That was unexpected.

　　"What?" I wasn't sure what he was getting at.

　　"Do you want a ride to Seattle?"

　　"With who?" I asked, mystified.

　　"Myself, obviously." He enunciated every syllable, as if he were talking

　　to someone mentally handicapped.

　　I was still stunned. "Why?"

　　"Well, I was planning to go to Seattle in the next few weeks, and, to be

　　honest, I'm not sure if your truck can make it."

　　"My truck works just fine, thank you very much for your concern." I

　　started to walk again, but I was too surprised to maintain the same level

　　of anger.

　　"But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?" He matched my pace

　　again.

　　"I don't see how that is any of your business." Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

　　"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business."

　　"Honestly, Edward." I felt a thrill go through me as I said his name, and

　　I hated it. "I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my

　　friend."

　　"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want

　　to be."

　　"Oh, thanks, now that's all cleared up." Heavy sarcasm. I realized I had

　　stopped walking again. We were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof

　　now, so I could more easily look at his face. Which certainly didn't help

　　my clarity of thought.

　　"It would be more… prudent for you not to be my friend," he explained.

　　"But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella."

　　His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence, his

　　voice smoldering. I couldn't remember how to breathe.

　　"Will you go with me to Seattle?" he asked, still intense.

　　I couldn't speak yet, so I just nodded.

　　He smiled briefly, and then his face became serious.

　　"You really should stay away from me," he warned. "I'll see you in class."

　　

　　He turned abruptly and walked back the way we'd come.

　　===========================================================================

　　5. BLOOD TYPE

　　I made my way to English in a daze. I didn't even realize when I first

　　walked in that class had already started.

　　"Thank you for joining us, Miss Swan," Mr. Mason said in a disparaging

　　tone.

　　I flushed and hurried to my seat.

　　It wasn't till class ended that I realized Mike wasn't sitting in his

　　usual seat next to me. I felt a twinge of guilt. But he and Eric both met

　　me at the door as usual, so I figured I wasn't totally unforgiven. Mike

　　seemed to become more himself as we walked, gaining enthusiasm as he

　　talked about the weather report for this weekend. The rain was supposed

　　to take a minor break, and so maybe his beach trip would be possible. I

　　tried to sound eager, to make up for disappointing him yesterday. It was

　　hard; rain or no rain, it would still only be in the high forties, if we

　　were lucky.

　　The rest of the morning passed in a blur. It was difficult to believe

　　that I hadn't just imagined what Edward had said, and the way his eyes

　　had looked. Maybe it was just a very convincing dream that I'd confused

　　with reality. That seemed more probable than that I really appealed to

　　him on any level.

　　So I was impatient and frightened as Jessica and I entered the cafeteria.

　　I wanted to see his face, to see if he'd gone back to the cold,

　　indifferent person I'd known for the last several weeks. Or if, by some

　　miracle, I'd really heard what I thought I'd heard this morning. Jessica

　　babbled on and on about her dance plans — Lauren and Angela had asked the

　　other boys and they were all going together — completely unaware of my

　　inattention.

　　Disappointment flooded through me as my eyes unerringly focused on his

　　table. The other four were there, but he was absent. Had he gone home? I

　　followed the still-babbling Jessica through the line, crushed. I'd lost

　　my appetite — I bought nothing but a bottle of lemonade. I just wanted to

　　go sit down and sulk.

　　"Edward Cullen is staring at you again," Jessica said, finally breaking

　　through my abstraction with his name. "I wonder why he's sitting alone

　　today."

　　My head snapped up. I followed her gaze to see Edward, smiling crookedly,

　　staring at me from an empty table across the cafeteria from where he

　　usually sat. Once he'd caught my eye, he raised one hand and motioned

　　with his index finger for me to join him. As I stared in disbelief, he

　　winked.

　　"Does he mean you?" Jessica asked with insulting astonishment in her

　　voice.

　　"Maybe he needs help with his Biology homework," I muttered for her

　　benefit. "Um, I'd better go see what he wants."

　　I could feel her staring after me as I walked away.

　　When I reached his table, I stood behind the chair across from him,

　　unsure.

　　"Why don't you sit with me today?" he asked, smiling.

　　

　　I sat down automatically, watching him with caution. He was still

　　smiling. It was hard to believe that someone so beautiful could be real.

　　I was afraid that he might disappear in a sudden puff of smoke, and I

　　would wake up.

　　He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

　　"This is different," I finally managed.

　　"Well…" He paused, and then the rest of the words followed in a rush. "I

　　decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."

　　I waited for him to say something that made sense. The seconds ticked by.

　　"You know I don't have any idea what you mean," I eventually pointed out.

　　"I know." He smiled again, and then he changed the subject. "I think your

　　friends are angry with me for stealing you."

　　"They'll survive." I could feel their stares boring into my back.

　　"I may not give you back, though," he said with a wicked glint in his

　　eyes.

　　I gulped.

　　He laughed. "You look worried."

　　"No," I said, but, ridiculously, my voice broke. "Surprised, actually…

　　what brought all this on?"

　　"I told you — I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving

　　up." He was still smiling, but his ocher eyes were serious.

　　"Giving up?" I repeated in confusion.

　　"Yes — giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now,

　　and let the chips fall where they may." His smile faded as he explained,

　　and a hard edge crept into his voice.

　　"You lost me again."

　　The breathtaking crooked smile reappeared.