初中英语听力：《暮光之城》系列有声读物在线听（十）

 初中英语听力：《暮光之城》系列有声读物在线听，附听力内容：

注：每部分听力巡回播放三遍

以下为听力内容：

　　"I always say too much when I'm talking to you — that's one of the

　　problems."

　　"Don't worry — I don't understand any of it," I said wryly.

　　"I'm counting on that."

　　"So, in plain English, are we friends now?"

　　"Friends…" he mused, dubious.

　　"Or not," I muttered.

　　He grinned. "Well, we can try, I suppose. But I'm warning you now that

　　I'm not a good friend for you." Behind his smile, the warning was real.

　　"You say that a lot," I noted, trying to ignore the sudden trembling in

　　my stomach and keep my voice even.

　　"Yes, because you're not listening to me. I'm still waiting for you to

　　believe it. If you're smart, you'll avoid me."

　　"I think you've made your opinion on the subject of my intellect clear,

　　too." My eyes narrowed.

　　He smiled apologetically.

　　

　　"So, as long as I'm being… not smart, we'll try to be friends?" I

　　struggled to sum up the confusing exchange.

　　"That sounds about right."

　　I looked down at my hands wrapped around the lemonade bottle, not sure

　　what to do now.

　　"What are you thinking?" he asked curiously.

　　I looked up into his deep gold eyes, became befuddled, and, as usual,

　　blurted out the truth.

　　"I'm trying to figure out what you are."

　　His jaw tightened, but he kept his smile in place with some effort.

　　"Are you having any luck with that?" he asked in an offhand tone.

　　"Not too much," I admitted.

　　He chuckled. "What are your theories?"

　　I blushed. I had been vacillating during the last month between Bruce

　　Wayne and Peter Parker. There was no way I was going to own up to that.

　　"Won't you tell me?" he asked, tilting his head to one side with a

　　shockingly tempting smile.

　　I shook my head. "Too embarrassing."

　　"That's really frustrating, you know," he complained.

　　"No," I disagreed quickly, my eyes narrowing, "I can't imagine why that

　　would be frustrating at all — just because someone refuses to tell you

　　what they're thinking, even if all the while they're making cryptic

　　little remarks specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering

　　what they could possibly mean… now, why would that be frustrating?"

　　He grimaced.

　　"Or better," I continued, the pent-up annoyance flowing freely now, "say

　　that person also did a wide range of bizarre things — from saving your

　　life under impossible circumstances one day to treating you like a pariah

　　the next, and he never explained any of that, either, even after he

　　promised. That, also, would be very non-frustrating."

　　"You've got a bit of a temper, don't you?"

　　"I don't like double standards."

　　We stared at each other, unsmiling.

　　He glanced over my shoulder, and then, unexpectedly, he snickered.

　　"What?"

　　"Your boyfriend seems to think I'm being unpleasant to you — he's

　　debating whether or not to come break up our fight." He snickered again.

　　"I don't know who you're talking about," I said frostily. "But I'm sure

　　you're wrong, anyway."

　　"I'm not. I told you, most people are easy to read."

　　"Except me, of course."

　　"Yes. Except for you." His mood shifted suddenly; his eyes turned

　　brooding. "I wonder why that is."

　　I had to look away from the intensity of his stare. I concentrated on

　　unscrewing the lid of my lemonade. I took a swig, staring at the table

　　

　　without seeing it.

　　"Aren't you hungry?" he asked, distracted.

　　"No." I didn't feel like mentioning that my stomach was already full — of

　　butterflies. "You?" I looked at the empty table in front of him.

　　"No, I'm not hungry." I didn't understand his expression — it looked like

　　he was enjoying some private joke.

　　"Can you do me a favor?" I asked after a second of hesitation.

　　He was suddenly wary. "That depends on what you want."

　　"It's not much," I assured him.

　　He waited, guarded but curious.

　　"I just wondered… if you could warn me beforehand the next time you

　　decide to ignore me for my own good. Just so I'm prepared." I looked at

　　the lemonade bottle as I spoke, tracing the circle of the opening with my

　　pinkie finger.

　　"That sounds fair." He was pressing his lips together to keep from

　　laughing when I looked up.

　　"Thanks."

　　"Then can I have one answer in return?" he demanded.

　　"One."

　　"Tell me one theory."

　　Whoops. "Not that one."

　　"You didn't qualify, you just promised one answer," he reminded me.

　　"And you've broken promises yourself," I reminded him back.

　　"Just one theory — I won't laugh."

　　"Yes, you will." I was positive about that.

　　He looked down, and then glanced up at me through his long black lashes,

　　his ocher eyes scorching.

　　"Please?" he breathed, leaning toward me.

　　I blinked, my mind going blank. Holy crow, how did he do that?

　　"Er, what?" I asked, dazed.

　　"Please tell me just one little theory." His eyes still smoldered at me.

　　"Um, well, bitten by a radioactive spider?" Was he a hypnotist, too? Or

　　was I just a hopeless pushover?

　　"That's not very creative," he scoffed.

　　"I'm sorry, that's all I've got," I said, miffed.

　　"You're not even close," he teased.

　　"No spiders?"

　　"Nope."

　　"And no radioactivity?"

　　"None."

　　

　　"Dang," I sighed.

　　"Kryptonite doesn't bother me, either," he chuckled.

　　"You're not supposed to laugh, remember?"

　　He struggled to compose his face.

　　"I'll figure it out eventually," I warned him.

　　"I wish you wouldn't try." He was serious again.

　　"Because… ?"

　　"What if I'm not a superhero? What if I'm the bad guy?" He smiled

　　playfully, but his eyes were impenetrable.

　　"Oh," I said, as several things he'd hinted fell suddenly into place. "I

　　see."

　　"Do you?" His face was abruptly severe, as if he were afraid that he'd

　　accidentally said too much.

　　"You're dangerous?" I guessed, my pulse quickening as I intuitively

　　realized the truth of my own words. He was dangerous. He'd been trying to

　　tell me that all along.

　　He just looked at me, eyes full of some emotion I couldn't comprehend.

　　"But not bad," I whispered, shaking my head. "No, I don't believe that

　　you're bad."

　　"You're wrong." His voice was almost inaudible. He looked down, stealing

　　my bottle lid and then spinning it on its side between his fingers. I

　　stared at him, wondering why I didn't feel afraid. He meant what he was

　　saying — that was obvious. But I just felt anxious, on edge… and, more

　　than anything else, fascinated. The same way I always felt when I was

　　near him.

　　The silence lasted until I noticed that the cafeteria was almost empty.

　　I jumped to my feet. "We're going to be late."

　　"I'm not going to class today," he said, twirling the lid so fast it was

　　just a blur.

　　"Why not?"

　　"It's healthy to ditch class now and then." He smiled up at me, but his

　　eyes were still troubled.

　　"Well, I'm going," I told him. I was far too big a coward to risk getting

　　caught.

　　He turned his attention back to his makeshift top. "I'll see you later,

　　then."

　　I hesitated, torn, but then the first bell sent me hurrying out the door

　　— with a last glance confirming that he hadn't moved a centimeter.

　　As I half-ran to class, my head was spinning faster than the bottle cap.

　　So few questions had been answered in comparison to how many new

　　questions had been raised. At least the rain had stopped.

　　I was lucky; Mr. Banner wasn't in the room yet when I arrived. I settled

　　quickly into my seat, aware that both Mike and Angela were staring at me.

　　Mike looked resentful; Angela looked surprised, and slightly awed.

　　Mr. Banner came in the room then, calling the class to order. He was

　　juggling a few small cardboard boxes in his arms. He put them down on

　　Mike's table, telling him to start passing them around the class.

　　

　　"Okay, guys, I want you all to take one piece from each box," he said as

　　he produced a pair of rubber gloves from the pocket of his lab jacket and

　　pulled them on. The sharp sound as the gloves snapped into place against

　　his wrists seemed ominous to me. "The first should be an indicator card,"

　　he went on, grabbing a white card with four squares marked on it and

　　displaying it. "The second is a four-pronged applicator —" he held up

　　something that looked like a nearly toothless hair pick "— and the third

　　is a sterile micro-lancet." He held up a small piece of blue plastic and

　　split it open. The barb was invisible from this distance, but my stomach

　　flipped.

　　"I'll be coming around with a dropper of water to prepare your cards, so

　　please don't start until I get to you." He began at Mike's table again,

　　carefully putting one drop of water in each of the four squares. "Then I

　　want you to carefully prick your finger with the lancet…" He grabbed

　　Mike's hand and jabbed the spike into the tip of Mike's middle finger. Oh

　　no. Clammy moisture broke out across my forehead.

　　"Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs." He demonstrated,

　　squeezing Mike's finger till the blood flowed. I swallowed convulsively,

　　my stomach heaving.

　　"And then apply it to the card," he finished, holding up the dripping red

　　card for us to see. I closed my eyes, trying to hear through the ringing

　　in my ears.

　　"The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I

　　thought you should all know your blood type." He sounded proud of

　　himself. "Those of you who aren't eighteen yet will need a parent's

　　permission — I have slips at my desk."

　　He continued through the room with his water drops. I put my cheek

　　against the cool black tabletop and tried to hold on to my consciousness.

　　All around me I could hear squeals, complaints, and giggles as my

　　classmates skewered their fingers. I breathed slowly in and out through

　　my mouth.

　　"Bella, are you all right?" Mr. Banner asked. His voice was close to my

　　head, and it sounded alarmed.

　　"I already know my blood type, Mr. Banner," I said in a weak voice. I was

　　afraid to raise my head.

　　"Are you feeling faint?"

　　"Yes, sir," I muttered, internally kicking myself for not ditching when I

　　had the chance.

　　"Can someone take Bella to the nurse, please?" he called.

　　I didn't have to look up to know that it would be Mike who volunteered.

　　"Can you walk?" Mr. Banner asked.

　　"Yes," I whispered. Just let me get out of here, I thought. I'll crawl.

　　Mike seemed eager as he put his arm around my waist and pulled my arm

　　over his shoulder. I leaned against him heavily on the way out of the

　　classroom.

　　Mike towed me slowly across campus. When we were around the edge of the

　　cafeteria, out of sight of building four in case Mr. Banner was watching,

　　I stopped.

　　"Just let me sit for a minute, please?" I begged.

　　He helped me sit on the edge of the walk.

　　"And whatever you do, keep your hand in your pocket," I warned. I was

　　still so dizzy. I slumped over on my side, putting my cheek against the

　　freezing, damp cement of the sidewalk, closing my eyes. That seemed to

　　help a little.

　　

　　"Wow, you're green, Bella," Mike said nervously.

　　"Bella?" a different voice called from the distance.

　　No! Please let me be imagining that horribly familiar voice.

　　"What's wrong — is she hurt?" His voice was closer now, and he sounded

　　upset. I wasn't imagining it. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to die. Or,

　　at the very least, not to throw up.

　　Mike seemed stressed. "I think she's fainted. I don't know what happened,

　　she didn't even stick her finger."

　　"Bella." Edward's voice was right beside me, relieved now. "Can you hear

　　me?"

　　"No," I groaned. "Go away."

　　He chuckled.

　　"I was taking her to the nurse," Mike explained in a defensive tone, "but

　　she wouldn't go any farther."

　　"I'll take her," Edward said. I could hear the smile still in his voice.

　　"You can go back to class."

　　"No," Mike protested. "I'm supposed to do it."

　　Suddenly the sidewalk disappeared from beneath me. My eyes flew open in

　　shock. Edward had scooped me up in his arms, as easily as if I weighed

　　ten pounds instead of a hundred and ten.

　　"Put me down!" Please, please let me not vomit on him. He was walking

　　before I was finished talking.

　　"Hey!" Mike called, already ten paces behind us.

　　Edward ignored him. "You look awful," he told me, grinning.

　　"Put me back on the sidewalk," I moaned. The rocking movement of his walk

　　was not helping. He held me away from his body, gingerly, supporting all

　　my weight with just his arms — it didn't seem to bother him.

　　"So you faint at the sight of blood?" he asked. This seemed to entertain

　　him.

　　I didn't answer. I closed my eyes again and fought the nausea with all my

　　strength, clamping my lips together.

　　"And not even your own blood," he continued, enjoying himself.

　　I don't know how he opened the door while carrying me, but it was

　　suddenly warm, so I knew we were inside.

　　"Oh my," I heard a female voice gasp.

　　"She fainted in Biology," Edward explained.

　　I opened my eyes. I was in the office, and Edward was striding past the

　　front counter toward the nurse's door. Ms. Cope, the redheaded front

　　office receptionist, ran ahead of him to hold it open. The grandmotherly

　　nurse looked up from a novel, astonished, as Edward swung me into the

　　room and placed me gently on the crackly paper that covered the brown

　　vinyl mattress on the one cot. Then he moved to stand against the wall as

　　far across the narrow room as possible. His eyes were bright, excited.

　　"She's just a little faint," he reassured the startled nurse. "They're

　　blood typing in Biology."

　　The nurse nodded sagely. "There's always one."

 

2018年上海中考各科真题及答案
语文	数学	英语	物理	化学
2017年上海中考各科真题及答案
语文	数学	英语	物理	化学

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