those who sparkle
chapter 1

I never looked at Edward Cullen the way he looked at me. His eyes rolled past while mine danced. I never felt for Edward Cullen the way I should have. He pretended I wasn't there while I just pretended. There were things sparkling in my mind which shouldn't have while he paraded around the room and pushed his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose or ran his palm along the back side of his head. Sometimes he reminded me of an iguana. Just a little. Those hands were the cause of his boyish good-looks destruction. He always touched his damn hair, but he also spoke with his hands. A redeeming quality. The way he curved his fingers, the shape they all made together. I wanted to paint them with full white and yellows behind them, just to showcase the Adonis position. Then, a golden sparkle would reflect the overhead lights and my dreams sailed away.

Edward Cullen was a married man.

How unfortunate for his wife to have such a husband out and about among the high school types in short skirts with high egos and even higher heels. Fortunately for Mrs. Cullen, he seemed to be disinterested in all except his job. He seemed friendly with the staff and I watched him as he presided over the cafeteria during the senior lunch when I drank my Pepsi and ate my greasy pepperoni pizza. He would tuck his hands into his khaki pockets and watch, his eyes never falling on one particular table. Sometimes he would move around through the pillars or stand in the large corridor just beside. A spectator. Never part or belonging anywhere. Except maybe my heart.

What a stupid line.