I stared at Bella

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I stared at Bella, wondering how I could possibly do anything right by her, until
the silent shouting in Mike Newton's head distracted me.
He was so irate that it made me chuckle.
"What?" she demanded.
"Your boyfriend seems to think I'm being unpleasant to you—he's debating
whether or not to come break up our fight."  I would love to see him try.  I laughed again.
"I don't know who you're talking about," she said in an icy voice.  "But I'm sure
you're wrong anyway."
I very much enjoyed the way she disowned him with her dismissive sentence.
"I'm not.  I told you, most people are easy to read."
"Except me, of course."
"Yes.  Except for you."  Did she have to be the exception to everything?
Wouldn't it have been more fair—considering everything else I had to deal with now—if
I could have at least heard something from her head?  Was that so much to ask?  "I
wonder why that is?"
I stared into her eyes, trying again?
She looked away.  She opened her lemonade and took a quick drink, her eyes on
the table.
"Aren't you hungry?" I asked.
"No."  She eyed the empty table between us.  "You?"
"No, I'm not hungry," I said.  I was definitely not that.
She stared at the table her lips pursed.  I waited.
"Could you do me a favor?" she asked, suddenly meeting my gaze again.
What would she want from me?  Would she ask for the truth that I wasn't allowed
to tell her—the truth I didn't want her to ever, ever know?
"That depends on what you want."
"It's not much," she promised.
I waited, curious again.
"I just wondered?" she said slowly, staring at the lemonade bottle, tracing its lip
with her littlest finger.  "If you could warn me beforehand the next time you decide to
ignore me for my own good?  Just so I'm prepared."
? 2008 Stephenie Meyer