Chapter Eight
Kill me now: “It had been a while since I'd had a girls' night out, and the estrogen rush was invigorating. We listened to whiny rock songs while Jessica jabbered on about the boys we hung out with.”
Tell me about it, girl. Estrogen rushes are the freakin’ bomb.
I didn’t even know you could have an estrogen rush. Shows what I know. It’s certainly not a term you hear very often.
For good reason though, I think. It has an odd ring to it.
Bella with the distraction: “Angela was passively happy to be going to the dance, but not really interested in Eric. Jess tried to get her to confess who her type was, but I interrupted with a question about dresses after a bit, to spare her.”
Because we all know that if you throw even so much as the suggestion of new clothing anywhere in the vicinity of a woman they will instantly forget what they’re doing and completely change course.
It’s Pavlovian or something.
Disbelief: “‘Really,’ I tried to convince her, not wanting to confess my dancing problems. ‘I've never had a boyfriend or anything close. I didn't go out much.’
‘Why not?’ Jessica demanded.
‘No one asked me,’ I answered honestly.
Awww, poor Bella. I can’t imagine why no one would like her.
Oh wait.
See?: “I was silent, still lost in shock that was quickly turning to irritation. But we had found the dress racks, and now we had work to do.”
And the clothes win again. See? I told you. Works every time.
Same old, same old: This is an entire scene built around little else but shopping and looking at things and description, and yet the only new thing I learn about any of the characters’ appearance is that one of them is tall. She did take the time to kindly repeat hair and eye colors though. It had been a couple of paragraphs, so I guess it was about time.
Seriously Steph, if you can’t squeeze in decent description in a chapter like this you’re just hopeless.
Heavy Sigh: It would appear our absentminded little Bella has gotten herself into another totally contrived pickle. Somehow, when wandering around downtown and looking for a bookstore, she managed to stray so far off the beaten path without noticing that she’s now fearing brutal mugging/theft/attack/rape from the nasty, slimy young hooligans inhabiting every dark corner.
This girl really does lack common sense to a highly dangerous degree.
When the storefronts start to turn into warehouses and the cashiers in the window into gang members, I think it’s safe to say you should stop looking for the damn bookstore and turn the hell around.
Also: If this plot point is used to have Edward swoop in from nowhere and save the day I’m going to hit something.
Question: If you were fearing an attack by a group of people who have been following you for a couple of blocks, would you risk looking backward directly at them just to satisfy your curiosity?
Yeah, I didn’t think so.
Surprise!: “The street was lined on both sides by blank, doorless, windowless walls. I realized then that I wasn't being followed.
I was being herded.”
Well my word, who ever would have guessed this was coming?
Crazy insane: “That same pessimistic voice in my mind spoke up then, reminding me that I probably wouldn't have a chance against one of them, and there were four. Shut up! I commanded the voice before terror could incapacitate me. I wasn't going out without taking someone with me.”
So Bella’s talking to the voice in her head now. That’s probably not good.
God damnit: “It was amazing how instantaneously the choking fear vanished, amazing how suddenly the feeling of security washed over me — even before I was off the street — as soon as I heard his voice. I jumped into the seat, slamming the door shut behind me.”
If you’ll excuse me, I have to go slam my fist into something very forcefully now. I only hope it isn’t alive.
Or hard.
...
I totally freakin’ called it though, didn’t I?
Caught up in the excitement: I think Steph was so excited about her brilliant, totally unpredictable, super-exciting, mega-awesome twist of having Edward save Bella that she kind of forgot to mention his name anywhere.
For more than a page.
She just calls him “he” for nigh-on two pages until Bella casually mentions his name talking to one of the non-characters that I can’t be bothered to remember the name of.
Steph really has a penchant for being overly mysterious, doesn’t she?
Cause and effect: “...the snap as the [seatbelt] connected was loud in the darkness.”
Because amount of ambient light and sound volume are totally connected to one another. Did you fail chemistry or something?
Thank you, Captain Obvious: “Edward [still referred to only as ‘he’’]: ‘Sometimes I have a problem with my temper, Bella.’”
Apparently our friend Bella isn’t the only one with a penchant for stating the obivous.
Still, it’s progress. They’re learning to admit their problems. Maybe in a book or two we can start to move past them.
Conveniently omitted for your displeasure: “‘But it wouldn't be helpful for me
to turn around and hunt down those…’ He didn't finish his sentence, looking away,
struggling for a moment to control his anger again.”
Here, I’ll finish the sentence for, Mr. Temper Tantrum:
VAMPIRES!
Bloody, blood-sucking vampires! Creatures of the night! (Well, okay, not really true in this case, but I guess we’ll get to that later) Shiny skinned supermen! (That’s more along the lines of things)
Seriously though, just say it already!
Here we go again: “‘I'm taking you to dinner.’ He smiled slightly, but his eyes were hard.”
If his eyes are hard he’s got issues decidedly different than vampirism. Eyes are definitely supposed to be squishy.
And why are you poking his eyes, anyway?
Barf: “I wanted nothing more than to be alone with my perpetual savior.”
Oh no, where’s my barf bag? I think I left it in the other room.
Sorry carpet, this is going to be unpleasant for the both of us.
And now it’s time for- Awkward Dialog!: "You really shouldn't do that to people," I criticized. "It's hardly fair."
"Do what?" [Edward asked]
“Dazzle them like that — she's probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right now."
[Edward] seemed confused. He tilted his head to one side, and his eyes were curious. "I dazzle people? Do I dazzle you?"
"Frequently," I admitted.
I realize, now that I’ve finally stopped laughing and regained my ability to type, that I seriously don’t even know where to start with this one.
You know what, I think I’ll just avoid belaboring the point. The dialog speaks for itself here.
And it speaks volumes.
All right, fine, one thing: Was the rest of him curious, or just his eyes? I’m trying to get a good mental picture here.
Impossible face physics: “His face twisted up into that perfect crooked smile.”
Is it possible to have something that’s both perfect and crooked at the same time?
Fine, fine, I’ll admit it. I’m nitpicking here. It was just awkward enough of a statement to justify using the title “Impossible face physics” which is something I very much wanted to do as soon as I thought of it.
Sorry.
Way past obsessive: “Edward was shrugging out of his jacket. I suddenly realized that I had never once noticed what he was wearing — not just tonight, but ever. I just couldn't seem to look away from his face.”
Oh. My. God.
Seriously?
Seriously?
Is this her attempt at justification or something?
Does Steph even realize what an obsessive, absent-minded freak show of a character she’s creating here?
Wow.
Groundhog Day, for the face: “He stared into my eyes, and I saw how light his eyes were, lighter than I'd ever seen them, golden butterscotch.”
Golden butterscotch eyes?
Are you kidding me?
That is not an eye color. Eyes do not come in that color. Golden butterscotch is a type of candy. Eyes are not candy. I do not want to eat eyes.
Bella might, but let’s not go there.
Also: That’s four or five sentences crammed into one, decidedly awkward, statement. There are these things called “periods,” Steph. They work well for situations like this.
Overcompensating colors: “That displeased him; his alabaster brow furrowed.”
Oh come on, now you’re just trying too hard.
You had a good thing going with the horrible eye colors. Don’t ruin it with over-saturation of stupid-ass colors. Stick with the eyes. They’re definitely your strong suit.
Oh my horribly obvious heavens: “‘Okay, then.’ I glared at him, and continued slowly. ‘Let's say, hypothetically of course, that… someone… could know what people are thinking, read minds, you know — with a few exceptions.’
‘Just one exception,’ he corrected, ‘hypothetically.’”
Now even the characters in the book are clearly admitting they know what’s going on!
They so know what’s going that they’re casually joking about it with one another!
The lack of information flow in this story so far has become a joke even to the characters in the story itself. That, dear friends, is not a good situation to be in.
Needs a little encouragement: “His eyes locked with mine, and I guessed he was making the decision right then whether or not to simply tell me the truth.”
Do it! Do it! Do it!
Do it now! Do it now! Do it now!
Fact check: “Edward to Bella: ‘I was wrong — you're much more observant than I gave you credit for.’”
We are talking about Bella here, right? ‘Cause... I don’t think we’re talking about the same Bella.
Warning bells: “I stretched my hand across the table again — ignoring him when he pulled back slightly once more — to touch the back of his hand shyly with my fingertips. His skin was cold and hard, like a stone.”
Bella, we’ve been through this in an earlier installment, but I’ll try again. This is what we call a “warning sign”.
See, human skin is not supposed to be cold or stone-like. That’s what dead people’s skin is like. Except even theirs doesn’t resemble stone.
You don’t want to date a dead person, do you?
Don’t answer that.
You should run anyway. Or at the very least be slightly unnerved by it. I mean, come on, I don’t care how much you’re infatuated by the guy, I guarantee you that feeling that he has the skin of a stone-cold dead man would freak you out a bit.
It’s all becoming clear: “‘I followed you to Port Angeles,’ [Edward] admitted, speaking in a rush. ... He paused. I wondered if it should bother me that he was following me; instead I felt a strange surge of pleasure.
That certainly explains a lot.
Abrupt transition: Okay, so Edward just spent a long block of dialog explaining to Bella that he can read people’s freakin’ minds ... and she doesn’t react.
Nothing. She just takes it in like he had just told her his new kitten’s name was Fluffy.
His skin is like a dead statue and he can read minds and still there’s no reaction at all from our inconsistent little protagonist?
Real people respond to crap like this. Real people show emotion or action or at least slight curiosity as a result of life-changingly weird news.
I’m beginning to wonder whether it’s Edward that’s really more human than Bella.