A/N: First story on this site; not the first thing I've ever written in my life. Writing is a passion I have that will hopefully never let me go (during vacation I sat with my new laptop writing for hours on end; it felt great). If you be kind enough to review, I would appreciate they weren't flaming the computer screen to ashes. Just a thought. So... on with the story so I don't ramble on forever ;-)
Disclaimer: I own nothing; all publicly recognized characters and scenes belong to Stephenie Meyer, bless her soul.
Oh dear, I thought to myself as I labored about my room, hanging clothes in my walk-in closet, running back to my suitcases, setting up pictures on my nightstand and desk, and throwing myself about like a boomerang.
My eyes kept peeking back to the full length mirror I'd leaned against my purple-shaded walls. Did I apply my eye shadow just right – for accentuation of my walnut-sized, dark brown eyes? Blush? The soft baby pink blended into my creamy skin lifted into a practice smile. Were my clothes just right? I ran a hand over my floral print strappy – soft and costing me a good buck – and dark blue skinny jeans – designer and hugging my tiny legs with as much perfection as stiff jeans could muster. Despite my parents warning of the drastic temperature differences in Forks compared to Phoenix, I had no cute winter wear that didn't shout twelve-year-old when I wore it. I was resolved to fight out the cold.
"Mary-Alice!" the sweet and sour voice of my mother called. I winced mentally at the use of my first name. I would be spending the rest of this week correcting students and staff about the correct usage of my name. Alice. No Mary. Not unless they wanted a stiletto stabbed into their flesh.
With quick but hurried strokes, I flattened out some minor imperfections in my long, midnight black hair. And forcing myself to grab my black designer bag and ignoring the urge to adjust just one more thing, I raced down the staircase. I paused on the last step, though, as my sharp eyes caught the curly brown crown of an older man speaking to my dressed up father.
My heels clacked against the hardwood floor, and both their eyes shot up to me. The man, I realized, looked strangely familiar, though I couldn't place why. He shared my father's deep, chocolate color of the eyes, and the light, pallid tone of his skin. He also wore the jacket of the police department.
"Honey…" my father cleared his throat. "This is Chief Swan – er, Charlie Swan; he's my cousin."
Oh. That would explain it. I hadn't seen a glimpse of any relatives on my father's side since I was a very little girl.
Charlie gave me a weak smile and waved quietly. Then he turned back to father. "I guess… I'll come back later, right?" He looked at me again, and I noticed a flash of longing. How odd was that?
"Daddy, I'm going to head off for school, alright?" I asked, glowing angelically when he nodded his approval. I skipped over to him, jumped to kiss his cheek, and fluttered out the door without a thought for food.
My ridiculously plain car (or as I liked to call it 'Average car') was a dull silver and new four years ago. It had been a sweet sixteen gift from my parents, who didn't quite understand my need for new things. But, to my surprise, the car had grown on me.
I slid into the cloth driver's seat, started the engine, and backed out the driveway with giddiness that bubbled all over my ridiculously tiny body.
Forks High was easy to find, and nervousness started to settle in as I drove into a clear parking spot. I'd never moved before – Phoenix was my home – but I battled the nerves away, replacing it with my usual happy atmosphere. I may never have moved to a completely different habitat before, but I could make friends in my sleep.
Random groups of students were mingling by cars, chatting and laughing. I passed one group in particular where a blonde haired boy was busy wadding up paper and throwing it at one of his guy friends. I had to duck in order dodge the missile.
I wanted to go and talk to someone, but one look at my phone told me otherwise. I needed to find my schedule and find my first class in ten minutes.
I was greeted by a gush of warm air as I entered the small office room. The green potted plants surrounded me like they were going to suffocate me with their lushness. I tried to ignore them and walked up to a long counter that divided the already small space. It was cluttered with loose papers and wire baskets and decorated with colored paper announcements of clubs and events. There were three desks behind the counter, and at one of them sat a large woman wearing glasses and quickly pushing back red hair. My stilettos made no noise against the orange carpet to warn her of my presence.
"Um…" I managed.
The woman looked up. "May I help you?"
"I'm Alice Brandon. The new student?"
The woman's eyes lit up with recognition. I suppressed a sigh. Before I moved, my mother had me look up the school's website. Three hundred and fifty seven students. At home, my jaw had dropped with absolute horror.
"Of course, just a minute," she replied, turning to shift through a stacked pile of papers. She pulled two sheets out and handed them to me. "Here's your schedule and a map of the school." Then she handed me a slip, which she explained was for each teacher to sign and for me to return at the end of the day. "Do you think you'll like it here?" she asked after she finished.
I shrugged. "It'll take some getting used to," I replied. The woman smiled and turned back to her desk, and I left with my eyes scanning my schedule and map for directions.
When the first bell rang, I'd managed to wander around the cafeteria building and spot the faded block "3" painted in black. As I approached the bland door, I tried to balance out the nerves I was feeling with the eagerness to meet new people. I breathed deeply, which seemed to help as I pushed through the door.
I immediately noticed the emptiness of the room, which sank my mood. I didn't want to look like I was eager for class – English class to be precise. I walked down the middle aisle, my clicking heels alerting the teacher with balding hair – Mr. Mason as his mantel implied – to my presence. When he stood to greet me, he easily towered over my petite frame.
"Good morning, Mary Brandon. I'm Mr. Mason, your English teacher," he greeted, stepping out from behind his desk and walking over to the white board that stretched the entire wall.
"Alice," I corrected.
"Oh." He began writing today's work on the board. I frowned as I waited for him to say more. I had no clue where to sit, and I felt particularly stupid standing awkwardly by his desk as students began filing in.
After he finished writing, he leaned over to his desk, and pulled off a small packet. Handing it to me, he explained, "This is your reading list for the year. And you'll be sitting next to Isabella Cullen in the back, over there." He pointed out my seat, and I thanked him.
Isabella Cullen. Perfect. I smiled to myself, the nerves dwindling as my excitement took its place. I sat in the desk I was directed and watched impatiently as students entered and took their seats. Tall guys, blonde girls, brunet guys, chubby girls. But not one took the seat beside me.
Worry began trying to gnaw at my good mood. Was she here today? Would she be excited to meet me as I was her? I was tempted to go and chat with any one of the students who were discreetly staring at me, or at least trying. But then the creaky door opened again, and I turned my head to see who had arrived.
I gasped, then quickly covered my mouth and winced.
Impossibly, this girl – this beauty – was the Isabella Cullen who quietly took her seat by me. I tried to be polite, but I couldn't help but stare. She was like looking at an air-brushed cover magazine. She was the image of perfection every teenage girl – including me – wanted to have.
Isabella gave me a small smile. Her soft brown hair flowed down her back in straight perfection and immediately started falling across her angelic face. Almost automatically, she pushed it back with her slender, pale fingers, tucking the strands behind her ear.
Somehow, I managed to find my voice. "Hey, I'm–"
"Mary Brandon, I know," she answered in a clear, bell toned voice.
"Alice, actually," I corrected once more. "I don't really like the Mary part."
Isabella's smile grew as she laughed quietly. "Same here. I'm Bella Cullen. Not Isabella."
My worries drifted off. I could already tell today was going to be perfect. But before I could start up another conversation, Mr. Mason called the class to attention.
Throughout his lesson, I read over the reading list I'd received, rolling my eyes at the selections. But I couldn't help peeking over at the girl beside me. During Mr. Mason's speech on The Crucible, her smooth hair drifted across her face again, curtaining her perfect features from view. I thought almost grudgingly the amount of work it took for me to straighten my hair and keep it from frizzing in this weather. The constant rain cover was going to ruin my hair routine.
The bell sprung me from my thoughts, and I nearly jumped at the nasally sound of its ring. Bella smiled at me, gathered her stuff effortlessly and with grace, and quickly exited the vicinity.
I was confused at first, figuring she would want to stay and chat, but I pushed the feeling away as a gangly, oil black-haired boy turned from his seat in front of me with a grin.
"You're Mary Brandon right?" he asked.
I smiled sweetly, "Alice, actually."
He frowned but nodded. "What class do you have next?"
"Um…. Government, Jefferson, building six," I read. When I looked up from my schedule, I caught the gazes of almost every classmate in my English class. Except for Bella Cullen…. Hmm….
"I'm heading over to building four, but I can show you the way…" his eyes looked to me for acceptance. I smiled. "I'm Eric."
"Thanks."
To my upmost disappointment, it was drizzling outside. I huddled in my thin arms, feeling a prick of regret for not leaving with a jacket of some sort and glaring at the clouds as Eric walked me in the proper direction.
"So… you're from Phoenix?"
"Yeah."
"It must be different here."
"You have no idea."
"Does it rain much over there?"
"About three or four times every year."
"Wow. That's not much."
I shrugged, a little bored with his questions, though I wondered in the back of my head why I wasn't my usual, chattering self. It probably had to do with my mind being occupied with the Cullen girl. Why had she been so hasty to leave when the other students mingled and stayed to stare at me? She seemed nice….
Eric guided me south, past the cafeteria, and walked with me till we were at the door. I smiled graciously as I began to open it.
"Well, have a good day Alice," he said. "Maybe we'll have some classes together," he added almost hastily as he started to walk away.
The rest of the morning was pretty much the same, minus meeting another gorgeous beauty. Jefferson didn't bother standing me in front of the class, and I sat next to a shy girl who seemed to be the only one who didn't speak to me. After every class, there seemed to be at least one person brave enough to talk to me and show me off to my next class, and I didn't see Eric again in any of my morning classes. There was one girl – Jessica Stanley – who was in both my Trig and Spanish classes. When I sat down in Trig, after Mr. Varner displayed me as Mary Alice Brandon in front of the class, she immediately began chatting with me and explaining everything she knew about the school.
We walked to the cafeteria together, and I was feeling my normal self come out. We both talked a million miles a second, unable to stop the conversation at any one point. Bella wasn't in my mind.
"You should sit with us, Alice," Jessica insisted after we'd gathered a tray of food. I smiled and followed her to a crowded table bustling with social activity.
The blonde boy from the parking lot earlier smiled at me. "Alice, this is Mike Newton," Jessica explained. She pointed over to the shy girl I'd sat next to in Government. "That's Angela Weber." Angela waved and then started petting down her long, light brown hair that highlighted with blonde. Jessica continued to make introductions, including Eric from English, who waved at me excitedly.
It was then, during the midst of lunch, that I looked to my left and saw Bella – saw them. In the corner of the long room sat the five most beautiful people in existence. Again, I was reminded of fashion magazines. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized any and every model – French or otherwise – paled ridiculously in contrast.
My first thought was they were related, but they looked nothing like each other. Each was unique in their splendor. Three boys. Two girls.
Bella was tucked comfortably under the arm of a bronze-haired boy. He was slender and tall, leaning against the cafeteria wall with a blank, alabaster face. Next to them was another couple. The boy was… well, one could hardly say he was a boy. His tall body was filled with muscle, like all he ever did was weight lift, and had dark brown, slightly curly hair. The arrangement of his face gave him a childish look, an oxymoron to how he was built, but he wasn't smiling. He was almost as blank faced as the bronze-haired boy, a touch of a permanent grin to the curve of his lips. His burly arms curled around his girlfriend, or sister, or whatever – I wasn't sure. But she was the most stunning of the group. And not even that word – or any other – was sufficient to describe her. It pained me to see how good she looked, eyeing her shiny, pale blonde hair that softly waved over her shoulders as she leaned into the brawny boy. Her perfect lips were frowning as she stared into her thoughts, completely detached from the world.
And sitting alone, an empty space between him and the other beauties, was him. He was lean like the first boy, but more muscular. Honey blonde hair hid his turned face from me like a curtain. He was hunched over an untouched plate of food – all of their trays were untouched.
"Alice… are you okay?" I heard Jessica ask.
"Um yeah…." I started, my eyes still glued to their table. "Uh, Jessica…. Who are they."
Jessica looked to where I was subtly pointing. "Oh. Those are the Cullens. Edward, Bella, and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. They live with Dr. Cullen and his wife." As she spoke, the bronze-haired boy – Edward – looked up at us. I froze, but he looked away quickly, like he didn't bother to pretend he caught the new student staring at him and his family. Jessica giggled beside me.
"They're… rather nice looking…" I trailed off, grimacing at the awkward way I put it.
Jessica beamed. "No duh! But they're together. Edward and Bella, and Emmett and Rosalie, I mean. Plus, they live together. How weird is that?" I still hadn't looked away. Odd, yes, I figured, though by the shocked and judgmental edge to Jessica's tone, she thought more of it than I did.
"They don't look related. Which are the Cullens….?" My eyes still hadn't shifted away, though my body was partly turned to Jessica as I spoke and pointed.
"Oh they're not. Dr. Cullen and his wife adopted them all. Well, two of them are brother and sister – the blondes. His wife is like their aunt or something," Jessica continued, her voice dripping with negative vibes – jealousy? "I don't think she can have kids, either."
The bronze-haired – Edward – twitched from his seat, and I finally looked back at Jessica. "Have they always lived here?" My eyes slid back to their unmoving forms.
"No. They moved up here two years ago from someplace in Alaska." The negative turn in her voice was beginning to gnaw at me.
"Oh," I replied, and changed the subject.
The bell blared through the cafeteria, interrupting a section of gossip Jessica was offering on all table groups. I fumbled for my schedule in my pack and scramble to my feet, head twisting and searching for the Biology class.
The shy girl Angela heard me asking Jessica for directions and smiled small. "I have that class too. You could walk with me?"
I nodded.
Angela was quiet and listened while I rambled on for half of our walk. When I realized she wasn't speaking, nerves crawled over me. I wondered if I'd said something wrong.
"Oh no," she assured me when I asked. She shrugged. "I like how much you care for your family."
"Do you have any siblings?" Most people had at least one. I didn't meet many other only-child cases like me.
She nodded, a true smile touching her lips. "Twins."
The classroom was already filling by the time we entered into the classroom. Angela's smile turned apologetic as she went to take her seat by a blonde boy. The teacher – Mr. Banner – waved me over to the front of the room as he leaned into the back of his desk chair.
"Mary-Alice Brandon?"
"Alice."
Mr. Banner scrunched his nose. His arm reached out to rub a thick cast over his right leg, and I felt a twinge of pity for him.
"Mr. Cullen, please come here," Mr. Banner called. Then he explained as he looked up at me, "I was recently in an automobile accident just this past week, and Jasper had graciously offered to T.A. for me until I am more able to teach on my own. He'll give you the syllabus and show you where your seat is."
Like an electric shock, my heart jumped when Jasper slid up to the edge of the desk. His perfect lips were twisted with eternal angst that was echoed in his dark eyes. He avoided looking at me as he shuffled a small packet of papers together and held them out for me.
"You'll be sitting by Edward Cullen in the back, Miss." A faint flutter colored my cheeks at the sound of his deep, honey licked voice.
I opened my mouth to respond, but he spun on his heel and glided away with perfect step. Disoriented, I looked behind me to find my seat where Edward – another beauty – was watching the black surface of the counter as if it could bite him.
"Hey," I started as I sat down, trying to look as graceful as I'd seen Jasper and Bella be.
Edward stared at the counter.
"Um… hello? I'm Alice Brandon…" Why wasn't he talking to me? Why wasn't he talking to me!
No change. Still as a statue.
I sighed and leaned onto the tabletop, cupping my cheek as I rested on my elbow. Mr. Banner urged a reluctant Jasper forward. They whispered in low tones. Mr. Banner began to look worried, and Jasper's lips were tight as wires.
"Alright, Mr. Cullen; I hope you feel better in the future." Mr. Banner drew out a yellow slip and scribbled large letters, handing it to Jasper. Then, looking to the class, he announced, "There's been a change of plans; we're going to watch a documentary on the cell cycle. Please pull out a sheet of paper and write at least fifty interesting details you hear. Due at the end of the period."
A low murmur ran through the students as Jasper exited – but not before I caught him watching me, his beautiful features warped in pain and a hint of self-loathing.
How weird was that?
Like most of the students, I paid hardly any attention to the monotone narration and the scratchy quality of the TV screen. And for those fifty notes, I wrote down random details I could remember from my own Biology class back home – the class I took freshman year.
And I tried, though unsuccessfully, to get some sort of reaction from the Edward Cullen statue. I leaned forward to him, trying to pass in front of his eyes when the light flickered on in the room and the bell rang.
Just as Bella had done, Edward shot to his feet and slid out the door before I could manage to blink and hold back a startled gasp.
How rude!
But that wasn't what confused me the most. It was the dark tint in his eyes – almost coal black – that startled me. I had heard of people looking like they have black eyes, but never actually met anyone who literally did. I tried to remember Bella this morning. Were her eyes the same way?
I didn't have a solid answer, which made me curious to find out. But right now, I had a P.E. class to get to.
A/N: I apologize for the stiff writing and close resemblance to the first chapter of the actual book, but it's only for this chapter, I promise :-)