Breaking Dawn v angličtině ...

1. Engaged

No one is staring at you, I promise myself. No one is staring at you. No one is staring at you.

But, becouse I could´t lie convincingly even to myself, I had to check.

As I sat waiting for one of the three traffic lights in town to turn green, I peeked to the right - in her minival, Mrs. Weber had turned her

whole torso in my direction. Her eyes bored into mine, and I flinched back, wondering why she didn´t drob her gaze or look ashamed. It was still consired rude to stare at people, wasn´t it? Didn´t  that apply to me anymore?

Then I remembered that these windows were so darkly tinted that she probably had no idea if it was even me in here, let alone that I´d caught her looking.

I tried to  take just the car.

My car. Sight.

I glanced to the left and groaned. Two pedestrians were frozen on the sidewalk, missing their chance to cross as they stared. Behund them, Mr.Marshall was gawking throught the plate-glass window of his little souvenir shop. At least he didn´t have his nose pressed up againts the glass. Yet.

The light turned green and, in my hurry to escape, I stomped on the gas pedal without thinking - the normal way I would have punched it to get my ancient Chevy truck moving.

Engine snarling like a hunting pamther, the car jolted farward so fast that my body slammed into the black leather seat and my stomach flattened againts my spine.

,,Arg!" I gasped as I fumbled for the brake. Keeping my head, I merely tapped the pedal. The car lurched to an absolute standstill any way.

I couldn´t bear to look around at the resction. If there had been any doubot as to sobo was driving this car before, it was gone now With the toe of my shoe, I gently nudged the gas pedal down one half milimeter, and thhe car shot forward again.

I managed to reach my goal, the gas station. If I hadn´t been running on vapors, I wouldn´t have come into town at all. I was going without a lot of things these  day, like PopTarts and shoelaces, to avoid spending time in public.

Moving as if I were in a race, I got the hatch open, the cap off, the card scanned, and the nozzle in the tank within second. Of couse, there was nothing I could do to make the numbers on the gauge pick up the pace. They ticked  by sluggishy, almost as if they were doing it just to annoy me.

It wasn´t bright out - a typical drizzly day in Forks, Washington - but I still felt like a spotlight was trained on me, drawing attention to the delicate ring on my left hand. Ar times like  this, sensing the eyes on my back, it felt as if the ring pulsing like a neon sign. Look at me, look at me.

It was stupid to by so self - conscious, and I knew that. Beisdes my dad and mom, did it really matter what people were saying about my mysterious acceptance into an Ivy League college? About the shiny black credit that felt red-hod in my bach pocket right now?

,,Yeah, who cares they think," I muttered under my bresth.

,,Um, miss?" a manś voice called.

I turned, and then wished I hadn´t.

Two men stood beside a fancy SUV with brand - new kayaks tied to the top. Neither of them was looking at me; they both were staring at the car.

Personally, I didn´t get it. But then, I was just proud I could distinguish between the symbols for Toyota, Ford, and Chevy. This car was glossy black, sleek, and pretty, but it was still just a car to me

,,I´m sorry to brother you, but could you tell me what king of car you´re driving?" the tall one asked.

,,Um, a Mercedes, right?"

,,Yes," teh man said politely while his shorter friend rolled his eyes at my answer. ,,I know. But I was wondering is that ... are you driving a Mercedes Guardian?"