Stretch, stretch, stretch. The other students are filing out of the locker rooms now to collect their hockey sticks.
"I take extremely careful notes on how I'm feeling about it, and when I don't like what I see I take a few days off, when I don't need to be in a good mood or accomplish anything. Is it obvious?"
"'Obvious' is a word that rapidly begins to lose meaning around me," he says. "It's obvious to me, but then it's also obvious to me that Eric Yorkie fancies himself your secret admirer. People attempting to be casual around things that inspire strong reactions in them is - like flashing neon. You can't miss it. Well, I can't miss it. You see?"
"Yes. Eric. I suppose you needn't believe me if you don't feel like it."
"Huh." Stretch, shift, lean, stretch. "I don't suppose you can teach people to do that? Or would be so inclined?"
"...I'm not sure," he says thoughtfully. "I taught it to myself, but that's hardly the same."
"At the risk of jinxing my prospective lessons, I wouldn't characterize us as friends."
"Yes, and? It might be interesting," he says. "Best reason in the world to do anything, as far as I'm concerned."
"All right then. Let me know when you settle into a schedule, if you still find the notion interesting," shrugs Bella.
"Not yet. I have hope, though, now that I'm everyone's favourite tragic orphan."
"You're everyone's favorite antisocial tragic orphan who complains about the cafeteria food. If anyone starts making noise about sending you home with me because we're managing to have a civil conversation right now you'd better find a way to put them off before I blurt out to my parents that they mustn't invite you into our house."
"It's easier to keep up the cover if I'm not trying to mimic a fundamentally alien personality, and I assure you, if I had just lost my parents in a vampire attack two weeks ago I would be reasonably likely to punch the second person who asked me to tell them all about it. There have been five."