After I hung up, I tried to concentrate on dinner — dicing the chicken especially; I didn't want to take another trip to the emergency room. But my head was spinning, trying to analyze every word Edward had spoken today. What did he mean, it was better if we weren't friends?
挂断电话后，我试图专心做晚饭——特别是切鸡丁；我不想第二次进急救室。可是我的脑袋在一个劲儿地转，试图把爱德华今天所说的每一个字都分析一遍。他究竟什么意思，倘若我们不是朋友更好？
My stomach twisted as I realized what he must have meant. He must see how absorbed I was by him; he must not want to lead me on… so we couldn't even be friends… because he wasn't interested in me at all.
领悟到了他肯定是指的什么后，我差点恶心得要吐了。他肯定以为我让他给弄得神魂颠倒了；他肯定不想引诱我……所以连朋友也不能做……因为他对我没有丝毫的意思。
Of course he wasn't interested in me, I thought angrily, my eyes stinging — a delayed reaction to the onions. I wasn't interesting. And he was. Interesting… and brilliant… and mysterious… and perfect… and beautiful… and possibly able to lift full-sized vans with one hand.
没错，他对我是没意思，我生气地想道，双眼火辣辣的疼——对洋葱刺激的延迟反应。我没有意思，他有。有意思……才华横溢……神秘莫测……完美无缺……仪表堂堂……而且可能还能够单手举起大型 客货两用车。
Well, that was fine. I could leave him alone. I would leave him alone. I would get through my self-imposed sentence here in purgatory, and then hopefully some school in the Southwest, or possibly Hawaii, would offer me a scholarship. I focused my thoughts on sunny beaches and palm trees as I finished the enchiladas and put them in the oven.
唉，那很好。我可以不理会他。我还不愿意理会他呢。我将在这个炼狱里服完我自愿服的刑，然后西南，或许是夏威夷的某个学校，很可能愿意给我提供奖学金。做完肉馅玉米卷饼，把它们放进烤箱的时候，我满脑子想着的都是阳光灿烂的海滩和棕榈树。
Charlie seemed suspicious when he came home and smelled the green peppers. I couldn't blame him — the closest edible Mexican food was probably in southern California. But he was a cop, even if just a small-town cop, so he was brave enough to take the first bite. He seemed to like it. It was fun to watch as he slowly began trusting me in the kitchen.
查理回来闻到了青椒味道时，似乎有些不敢相信。这也不能怪他——可以吃到的墨西哥食物最近的很可能也在南加利福尼亚。不过他是个警察，虽然只是一个小镇上的警察，所以吃第一口，这点儿勇气他还是有的。他似乎还很喜欢吃。看到他慢慢开始信得过我下厨房的那点儿本事了，真是很有趣。
