Dad drove me to the airport. He tried to talk me out of the move, right before I boarded. But I'd made up my mind weeks ago that I was going to live in Forks with my mom and he was going to have the time of his life in Paris, Rome and Beijing, working alongside my awesome step-mom, Penny. It was ridiculous for him to pass this job up when I only had about two more years of dependence left. Seriously, it wouldn't make sense.

So we said our final goodbyes, Dad pulled me in for a tight, longer than normal hug, and I was on the plane with my waterproof jacket over my arm and a paperback in my pocket.

As it usually was in Washington, the sky was cloudy and dark when my mom and I walked out of the airport. I'd said farewell to sunlight and warmth back in Phoenix, so putting on my jacket wasn't as monumental as I'd thought it would be. No violins yet.

"So, how was your flight?" Carly, my mom, asked while she led me to her car.

"It was good," I said lamely. "I finished my book."

"That's cool. What book?"

"Uh, Sherlock Holmes."

"Is it good?"

"Sure. It's a classic."

Mom nodded, her curly hair bouncing on her shoulders, and popped the trunk.

She was shorter than me by about a foot and her hair was lighter brown, more chocolaty than muddy. She had blue eyes and was pretty as far as mothers go. Somehow, the combination of both my attractive parents made a nondescript child like me.

I might have more of my dad's features, but my personality was more like my mother's. Quiet. Shy. It'd be interesting, not to mention a little awkward, living with someone as quiet as I was; conversation in the car certainly was.

"I've been looking for a job for you, like you asked," she said a few minutes later, just as we pulled onto the highway. "There are a couple of places I think you'd like working at."

"Yeah? Where?" Please, don't say restaurant.

"Well, I looked into a few food places," she started, "and I checked with a couple of stores. Several were looking to hire."

"Thanks, Mom," I said, trying not to act like some petulant teenager. I don't think Carly would know what to do with that.

My lack of enthusiasm spurred her into adding, "There was also an opening at the old folks' home, helping the grounds-keeper… I didn't think you'd…"

"No…" I interrupted, "I think that sounds like my kind of thing. Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome," my mom answered. Her opinion about my preference in jobs was unreadable.

I had to do community service for a class once and I'd really liked talking to the old guys in the rest home back in Phoenix. My dad always teased me about it, saying that I was fifty years old already on the inside. I'd never argued with him; I didn't get along with kids my own age very well.

The rest of our ride was quiet. I could sense a pattern forming. I spent the silence looking out at the never-ending forest, wondering if I would recognize some of the trees around the house in Forks. I was pretty sure I'd get pneumonia a month into my stay, with all the water in the air. At the very least, I was sure to become color blind and never be able to tell the difference between green and gray again.

The house had the same square-footage as a handkerchief: white siding, navy blue door, two-bedrooms, one bathroom, tiny kitchen, and small living room. It was a good thing there were just two of us.

My room hadn't even been touched since my Dad whisked me away to Phoenix. The blue wallpaper was outdated, but I could see Carly had tried to upgrade things; there was a desk instead of a changing table and a bed instead of crib. The wooden rocking chair from my baby days was still there in the corner.

"So…" my mom said, setting one of my bags on the bed, straightening the patchwork quilt as she talked. "I was thinking for dinner we could go to the restaurant on Main Street. You remember the owner, right? Marissa Yorkie?"

"Uh, not really. Sorry." I started dumping out my clothes on the floor in front of the dresser.

Carly waved her hand, "Doesn't matter. Does that sound alright, though? I don't really have anything to eat in the house right now…"

"Yeah, it's fine," I answer, shrugging as I knelt and started to fold the pile of clothes, placing them in the drawers.

"Great," Carly says, giving me a wan half-smile. "So uh… I've got work to catch up on. I'll let you get to it." She left.

That's one good thing about my mom; she doesn't hover. It would've been nigh on impossible to get rid of Penny, my step-mom.

I sighed despondently, tossing a shirt into the dresser, and shifted around to sit with my back to the wall, staring out the green-infested window.

My mom was the D.A. in Forks. The town was so small, even a small-talker like her could be a lawyer. I had never asked why, but being the D.A. meant a lot to Carly; she'd fought tooth and nail for the position, and she worked her fingers to the bone to keep it. My dad said that, even after I was born, she had barely spent more than four hours of the day at home. It was why my dad had filed for divorce, saying that her marriage to her job was more important than theirs. The judge had agreed, and my dad had been given custody of me, their son. Carly hadn't fought the decision. Again, I had never asked why.

I stood and walked over to the window. Trees surrounded the yard so that the neighbors were screened from sight. The lot across the street was owned by one of the neighbors, and they'd left it unused. If I were to go on looks alone, it would seem that the house was miles away from everything. It wasn't hard to imagine just how alone that would make me.

Fighting the feelings of misery, I turned back to my room and set to work.

Fifteen minutes later, clothes put away, books stacked along the back of the desk, shoes and all my other crap in the closet, and I was done. No one would ever have a reason to call me sentimental, at least not when talking about personal effects.

I walked down the stairs, purposely making my steps heavy and loud so I wouldn't have to announce my appearance. I ended up having to anyway, since Carly was waist-deep in her books in the living room.

Forks and Spoons. That was the name of the dinner she took me to. The name was a lot funnier when I was little. I could barely remember the last time I came here, back before Carly had started visiting me in Phoenix instead of me coming to Forks.

Carly went through the doors first and she was greeted by several of the customers. I followed her to an empty table, regretting my decision to pull down the hood of my jacket; everybody was staring. Literally everyone. A couple would guiltily drop their eyes when I made eye contact, but most would just keep on staring right back at me. Small-townies.

I shifted in my seat, pulling the menu up in order to hide behind it.

The owner of the dinner, Marissa Yorkie, appeared about a second later. She was a middle-aged woman with really thick glasses, and she couldn't seem to decide who to look at, me or Carly, when she was taking my mom's order. I hadn't actually looked at the menu, so I just ordered the same thing.

"So, you're starting school tomorrow, aren't you Brennan?" Mrs. Yorkie asked, putting her hand on her hip.

I nodded, smiling politely.

"Well, I'll have to let my daughter know to look out for you! It's always nice to know someone on your first day!" she exclaimed and when I didn't reply, walked away.

"So… uh…" Carly started, leaning her elbows on the table. "How's… how's your dad? When does he leave for that job?"

"He's fine. He and Penny are leaving at the end of the month."

Carly smiled awkwardly and fiddled with her sleeve, "That's good. Really good. I'm happy for them."

I just nodded my head.

This subject was even more awkward than most others. It was kind of obvious that Carly had never gotten over my dad. She'd kept all of the old paintings he'd hung up around the house and I knew for a fact that she still had one of his old jackets hanging in the closet. I don't think she even officially changed her name back to Thompson until my dad married Penny a year ago.

"As for tomorrow, do you need anything? Pencils, notebooks…?" Carly asked.

I shook my head, "No. I've got everything. Thanks, Mom."

"Well um…" she tucked a piece of hair behind her hair, "do you need me to drop you off in the morning? I know you want to save up for a car…"

"Yeah thanks but um… I'll probably just walk. It isn't that far from the house, is it?"

"No, it's not. Just right off Main Street. We passed it on the way here."

I nodded without comment. A sinking feeling was beginning to pull at my stomach. I'd never been the out-going type. That, coupled with the fact that everyone around here had been together since they were in diapers, ensured that I was definitely out of my element. The entire student body at Forks High was probably smaller than my old school's senior class. There'd be nowhere to hide in a school so small.

"Hey, Carly!"

We both looked up in surprise to see a teenage girl walking towards us. She wore an overly large sweatshirt and a baseball cap backwards over her messy ponytail. She couldn't be any older than fifteen, being so stick-thin and lanky. Judging by her coppery-toned skin and jet-black, bone-straight hair, I would guess that she was of American Indian decent. I knew there was a reservation close-by.

"Jackie! Hi!" Carly said warmly. "What are you doing in town?"

The girl, Jackie, grabbed a chair from one of the unoccupied tables and dragged it over to ours, sitting down. "I was just dropping off some of my mom's tea to Mr. Harley. I saw your car outside and decided to come say hi before I go home."

"Well, you know my son Brennan," Carly said, smiling over at me. "Brennan, this is Jackie Black. Betty Black's daughter."

Betty was my mom's best friend, or the closest that she could get, working the hours she did. I used to play with Robbie and Rickie, Beth's twin sons about my age, when I was visiting up here. I could vaguely remember there being a little sister.

"Hi," I greeted.

"What's up?" Jackie asked, smiling. "You're coming to live here, huh? You ready for your first day of school?" Jackie drawled, rolling her eyes up and biting her lip in fake enthusiasm, lifting her hands with her thumb and pinkie outstretched.

"Eh…" I hedged, shrugging. I didn't really want to go into it, seeing as how I'd already had this conversation about twenty seconds ago.

"Do you go to the school out here?" I asked.

"Nah. I go to school on the rez. Too bad, huh?"

I nodded. It would've been nice to know someone before I showed up on the first day. Jackie seemed cool.

"You guys coming to my mom's birthday party on Saturday?" Jackie asked.

"Oh, I really don't know, Jackie," my mom said worriedly. "I definitely want to, but I might have to go to Portland. I have a case coming up next week that I need to prepare for."

"Oh, come on!" Jackie protested. "You're always working! My mom will only turn…" she mouthed the words forty-eight "…once, you know!"

Carly laughed, "I'll definitely try, Jackie, but I might just have to send Brennan over with her gift and make it up to her later."

"I uh… I have no clue how to get there, Mom," I said. "Not to mention, I don't have a car."

Jackie's dark eyes lit up, "Well, you know, if you're in the market, I would definitely be able to help you out. Not to brag, but uh.." she plucked at her jacket arrogantly "… I know my vehicles."

I laughed behind my fist, "Yeah, well, I need to get a job first. Shouldn't be too long though. Mom was looking into it for me before I got here."

"Cool, cool," Jackie nodded. "And as for 'not knowing where to go,' you'll find out pretty soon that houses aren't all that hard to find up here. Just a matter of keeping your eyes open. You're a city kid; should be a piece of cake for you."

Mrs. Yorkie suddenly appeared with our food, looking at Jackie. "Do you want to order something, honey?" she asked.

"Ah, no," Jackie said, shaking her head and rising to her feet. "I should get going. But I'll see you guys around." She waved at us on the way out the door.

I watched through the window as Jackie climbed into the driver's seat of an old black Ford truck. "Should she even be driving? How old is she?"

Carly looked up and smiled, "Jackie is fifteen. But don't worry. I am the D.A. of this town. Do you really think I'd let Betty's only daughter drive around if she couldn't handle it?"

I shrugged, "It's just surprising."

"Jackie's had to grow up pretty early," Carly elaborated, spreading ketchup all over her hamburger. "She's been Betty's care provider ever since the accident. Her older brothers would be here if they could, but Rickie's abroad with the Navy and Robbie needs to finish his degree before his college funds run out."

Betty had been in the same car accident that'd killed her husband and she came away paralyzed. Now, she was confined to a wheelchair. Thinking about how young Jackie was made me wonder at her up-beat attitude. I couldn't imagine being that responsible for someone, especially not if it was my parent. My dad could be a bit hare-brained and would need to be reminded to pay the bills and things like that, but he'd always been my provider. Not the other way around.

Carly and I ate our food fairly quickly, and were headed home just as another storm began to blow through. The bright yellow lights of the house were stark after the grey light outside.

"I would invite you to watch T.V., but it's still in the process of being fixed," my mom said as we removed our coats.

"That's fine," I answered. "I'm kind of tired, so I'll probably just go to bed."

"Alright," Carly said, smiling at me a little sadly.

Freshly showered and dressed in my ratty old sweatpants, I stood in front of the fogged-up bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection. Something about the cold, wet atmosphere of Forks made me look sickly pale. Already, I was beginning to look as if I hadn't seen the sun in months. I'd always been pale, and I didn't even have the red hair or freckles to go with it; I should be tan, blond, and round-shouldered, all the things that come with the Valley of the Sun. Thanks to puberty, I'd grown to a respectable height of 6' 1" and by some miracle, I lost the lankiness when I topped off. I might've looked like I could possibly play basketball, but I made a habit of avoiding sports and exercise equipment and anything else that could irritate my curse of clumsiness. Seriously, I was so klutzy it should be deemed a handicap, which made no sense because my parents were as nimble as cats. My dad tried curing me of it by putting me in junior basketball as a child, but after the second concussion within a month, he gave it up.

I ran my hands over my face and then over the back of my head. My hair was going to need a trim soon. If it got any longer, I was going to have to style it, but if my hair were too short, it'd be very easy to see the scars. I was just glad that my accident-prone ways had spared my face. My nose was still straight, my mouth naturally disproportional but left unscarred, my eyes slightly too small for my cheekbones but equal sizes. I wasn't necessarily ugly, but I definitely didn't qualify as handsome; at least not in the traditional sense. Having big blue eyes would've been helpful in the girl department. At least I had my grandpa's sharp jaw.

Disgusted with myself, I snapped off the light and went to my bedroom.

.

Life just wasn't fair. That's what I was thinking as I made my way through the next day. I guess I should've thought more about what shoes I was going to wear, because sneakers was the obvious choice to avoid when walking through a rainstorm. I arrived at Forks High with soggy feet and an attitude less than savory.

Almost as soon as I entered the building, a short, black-haired girl popped up out of nowhere, smiling at me enthusiastically from behind her red-rimmed glasses.

"Hi, you're new here, right? Brennan Swan?" she asked. "I'm Erin Yorkie. My mom told me to look out for you. She said that she met you at the dinner last night."

I was a little blown away by her word vomit, but I collected my manners and greeted her, "Yeah. I'm Brennan. It's nice to meet you, Erin." I stuffed my hands in my pockets in case she was a hand-shaker.

Erin grinned happily, and I got the distinct impression that she was one of those over-helpful, over-the-top cheerleader types.

"So, can I help you find anything? Have you registered yet?" she asked, confirming my suspicions.

"No, not yet," I answered.

Erin's smile turned mega-watt and she replied, "I'll show you the office!"

I just nodded, suddenly very conscious of the group of girls standing off to one side. They were all whispering to one another and, every once in a while, they would turn to look at me with wide eyes. A school like this must not get very many new faces. Hip-hooray for the new kid.

As we were walking, Erin asked, "Where did you live before, Brennan?"

"Phoenix. Arizona."

She looked me over, "Shouldn't you be… I don't know… tan?" She giggled, assuring me that she was still being friendly.

"Yeah, my grandmother was part-albino."

Erin's eyes widened and she became quiet.

I really needed to remember not to use sarcasm around here.

Mr. Cope, the secretary, gave me my school schedule and a map of the school, which I was definitely grateful for. But he also gave me this slip of paper for all the teachers to sign; something about acknowledging the fact that I'm in their classes. Great.

Erin happened to be in my first class, which happened to be English with Mrs. Mason, so she walked with me. She actually offered to help me find the rest of my classes on the map in my hand, and I decided it might be a good idea so I wouldn't have to walk around with it in front of my nose. Turns out, I can't listen to Erin explaining building-geography and walk down a clean hallway at the same time; not that it's surprising that I can't. My clumsiness became painfully obvious to everyone as I tripped on some unknown object and landed on my hands and knees, blushing profusely.

"Oh! Are you ok, Brennan?" Erin squeaked, kneeling next to me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I murmured, mortified, hoping that some hole in the floor would appear so I could dive in.

"Are you alright?" another voice asked, making me cringe.

I looked up to see a cute blond girl standing next to me, holding out a hand. I took it and she helped me up, being surprisingly strong for her size.

"Thanks," I said as Erin handed me my bag.

"No problem!" the blond girl said. "I'm Michaela Newton. Mike for short."

"Brennan Swan," I replied.

"The D.A.'s son from Arizona?" Mike asked. "Yeah, I heard you were moving up here. When did you get here?"

"Yesterday," I answered, looking around at all the curious faces and wondering how she'd found out where I was from.

"Well, what's your first class?" Mike asked. "Maybe we could walk together."

"English. Mrs. Mason," Erin answered for me. She wasn't smiling nearly as brightly as before.

Mike looked disappointed, "Shucks. Well, hey, maybe we'll have some other class together."

I just nodded, my shoulders bunched up uncomfortably.

Mike beamed and waved, "See you later. Bye, Erin." She walked away and Erin started leading me down the hallway in the opposite direction.

As we walked, I pondered the affect Forks had on its inhabitants. I hadn't even made it into a classroom yet and I had already made a fool of myself, tripping on air. Not even mentioning the weird way the people acted around me, what was with the stares? I felt like a zoo animal, a freak.

Mrs. Mason was a plump, aging woman who gaped at me when I approached her about signing the form for Mr. Cope. I could feel the skin on my neck and face turning bright red as I tried explaining who I was. At least she gave me a desk in the back, where it should've been harder for the other kids to stare at me. Somehow, they managed. I just kept my head down while she droned on about books I'd already read and their textbook-analyses.

After a couple of classes, I began to recognize the faces in each class. There usually was one of them that was braver than the others and would ask me small-talk questions, like how I liked Forks and what my next class was. On the plus side, I never had to use the map; there was always someone willing to walk me there.

I was on my way to Spanish class when I first saw them. They were standing by their lockers, chatting together quietly. They also weren't gawking at me, so it was one place I could look without meeting a pair of curious eyes.

They didn't look anything alike. The two guys were opposites. The blond one was tall, taller than even me, and as perfectly proportioned as an underwear model. He had the kind of body that made everyone either hate or love him for walking into the room. His golden hair curled gently on top of his head, looking as shiny and soft as unspun silk. The other guy was pretty short, with spiky, ink-black hair. He was thin but still muscular, the way male ballerinas usually were.

One of the three girls was tall and well built, like she was a serious athlete of some kind, with long, dark, corkscrew-curly hair. Another one was shorter and wafer-thin, though still femininely figured, and honey blond. The third was of average height and pleasantly curvy, her coppery-brown hair hanging down to her waist in wild, untamed waves. She looked young enough to be in high school, whereas her companions would've fit better on a college campus.

Yet they were all very similar. Every one of them had chalky pale skin, even paler than me, the albino. They each had deep, purplish bruises under their eyes, like they were in serious need of sleep, and despite their varying hair color, they all had really dark eyes.

And each one of them was so… They were all so… beautiful. I couldn't seem to look away from them. It was devastating, inhuman even, how beautiful they were. They had faces that could've been crafted by some master artist; faces that belonged in paintings and airbrushed magazine pages, not in a low-profile town like Forks.

I was walking with a really short guy named Jesse, who was in my Trig class, and coincidentally, my Spanish class. I interrupted his anecdote about Mr. Varner, our math teacher, and asked, "Who are they?"

Jesse looked over to see who I meant – and immediately, the red haired girl turned. Her dark eyes flicked to both of us in turn, making me flush in embarrassment, and then she looked away again, more quickly than I could. She began talking to the tall, dark haired girl beside her, saying something with a smile that took my breath away.

Jesse grinned sheepishly as we continued walking, "Those are Dr. Cullen's kids. Emma, Elise, Alex, Rhett, and Josie."

"They're… uh…" I murmured lamely.

"Yeah, I know," Jesse nodded, his eyes growing wide. "They're all hot. It just doesn't seem fair. And they're all together. You know they were all adopted so they aren't technically brother and sister. Emma and Rhett and Alex and Josie, I mean. But they live together and everything… I don't know but something is wrong about that."

I was about to feel judgmental about Jesse's gossip, but I had to admit, even in Phoenix it would cause a stir.

The image of the red haired girl was stuck at the forefront of my mind, replaying again and again the stunning smile she'd aimed at her sister, the way her pale pink lips parted gently over her ultra-white teeth.

"Who's the one with red hair?" I asked as we walked into a classroom and picked our seats.

Jesse got a weird look on his face, "That's Elise. But I wouldn't waste my time if I were you. She doesn't date. Real uppity." He dumped his books on his desk, making unnecessary noise.

I turned away to hide my smile. It seemed we had a case of sour grapes in the desk to the left.

I saw them all again right after Spanish, sitting together in the lunchroom. They weren't talking or eating, staring at different sections of wall. Their table was set apart from the rest and no one else made any attempt to sit with them or talk with them. It was now plain to see that I wasn't the only freak in town. A bit of me was glad for it, but mostly I just felt sympathy.

Jesse and I sat at his friends' usual table. I forgot everybody's names almost as soon as they were told to me. The whole time I was sitting there, I was aware of the stares I was attracting, as I had been the entire day. Eating had never been such uncomfortable work for me before. The thing that got me through was Jesse's habit of filling an entire conversation with just the amount of words flooding out of his mouth. Without him taking up the time he did, I wouldn't have been able to get even a bite of my sandwich.

During a lull in the ask-Brennan-questions attack, I turned to look around me – and realized that Elise Cullen was staring. Her dark, shadowy eyes were intense, her eyebrows scrunched together.

My face burned and I immediately turned away, but I could still feel her eyes on me. The look on her face puzzled me; she didn't look mad, exactly, but… annoyed? Worried? Why would she be looking at me that way?

My sudden upheaval of awkwardness attracted the attention of Jesse, who whispered, "Are you ok?"

I whispered back hoarsely, "Is Elise Cullen looking at me?"

Jesse looked over my shoulder, "Yeah, she is!" He sounded shocked.

"She doesn't look mad, does she?" I asked, self-consciously scratching at my chin.

"No," Jesse said. "Should she?"

I just shook my head, trying to invest myself in my food.

"She's still staring at you," Jesse whispered, halfway to laughing at my discomfort.

"Well, don't keep looking at her!" I hissed.

Jesse laughed, but did as I demanded, turning back to the conversation.

Soon, the Cullen family stood and left the lunchroom, throwing their untouched food into the garbage and exiting out into the constant rain. My crippling shyness perceived Elise Cullen and her family as someone to avoid, but I couldn't deny that at least a small part of me was fascinated. I found myself setting goals to say "Hi" sometime, though it most likely would be far, far ahead in the future. If only to find out why Elise had looked at me like that.

One of Jesse's friends had Biology II with me after lunch. He was kind enough to remind me that his name was Andrew Webber and, apparently, he was just as shy as I was. Our walk to class was almost completely silent, broken only by the squeak of his sensible boots and his offering me a stick of gum, which I declined.

Mrs. Banner's classroom/lab was nearly full when we arrived. Andrew left to sit at his table with his partner and I spotted Mike Newton toward the front of the classroom. She waved at me, smiling brightly.

The only empty seat was next to a familiar head of coppery red hair.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself for the walk to the front of the classroom, determined not to trip when all the attention was on me. Walking definitely was not my specialty.

As I passed the table where Elise Cullen was sitting, I saw her tense out of the corner of my eye. I discreetly turned to look toward her, in order to see what had happened – and immediately wished I hadn't. She was facing me, sitting on the edge of her seat, and was glaring at me with such animosity that I did a double take. Her terrifying expression didn't let up as I gaped at her. It was seriously breathtaking how beautiful this girl was, even when she looked about ready to attack me.

I quickly jerked my head down, scratching my cheek in an effort to hide the furious blush rising to my face.

Confused and bewildered, I continued on to Mrs. Banner's desk and introduced myself in a distracted, embarrassing stutter. She quickly found me a textbook and signed that form for Mr. Cope, and then told me to have a seat next to "Miss Cullen" in the back.

My heart was thudding with anxiety as I reluctantly turned around… only to see that the table was empty. Elise Cullen was gone, but her books and even her jacket were still there.

I sat quickly and pulled out a notebook, taking notes as diligently as if I'd never heard of Mitosis before, hyperaware for the moment when she would come back to class. I was tense the entire class period, but Elise didn't ever return.

When the bell rang, I forced myself to take a deep breath, releasing the tension around my lungs.

"Hi, Brennan!" Mike appeared next to me, smiling brightly.

"Hey," I answered, smiling back vaguely. "How's it going?"

Mike shrugged, "Good. Can I help you find your next class?"

"Sure," I said as I gathered up my books. "I've got Gym next." The absolute bane of my existence.

"Me too!" Mike said happily.

We left the classroom just as Mrs. Banner was gathering up Elise Cullen's abandoned belongings.

"Do you play any sports?" Mike asked from under her bright blue raincoat.

I laughed uncomfortably, "No. Sports aren't really my thing."

"Why not?" she asked.

"I'm not very good on my feet," I said honestly, wincing at how lame that must sound. "I don't really have the hand-eye coordination to play."

Mike pouted her lips, "Oh, I'm sure that isn't true."

I sighed resignedly; she'd find out soon enough, being in gym class with me. Back in Phoenix, I'd only needed two years of P.E., but here, it was mandatory all four years. One more reason to hate this place.

"Do you know what happened to Elise?" Mike suddenly asked. "I didn't see her leave."

My stomach clenched anxiously, remembered the livid expression on Elise's face. "No, I didn't."

Mike shrugged, "Maybe she got a text or something. An emergency."

That seemed reasonable regarding her abrupt departure, but it didn't explain her apparent hatred for me though. What had I done? Why would she act that way towards a person she'd never even talked to?

I was distracted the whole class, which made me even more klutzy than usual. People kept throwing me the basketball, whether it was because I was 6-foot or the new kid, I would never know. But they learned fairly quickly that I couldn't shoot to save my life. Several people were unfortunate enough to be too close when I tripped over my own feet and they went down with me. One kid actually got a face-full when I tried to pass the ball to him. Needless to say, my performance proved to Mike that I couldn't play sports.

Since it was the last class of the day and I was eager for it to be over, I was one of the first people finished in the locker rooms. I walked out of the gym alone, not bothering to wait for anyone, and intended to make straight for the office so I could give Mr. Cope his signatures – but then Elise Cullen appeared. Literally appeared right next to me, out of nowhere.

I jerked in surprise, staring at her wordlessly, my mouth hanging open. My heart stuttered and I blushed bright red, as was my curse, but for the life of me, I couldn't talk. What do you say to an incredibly gorgeous girl who was caught glaring at you for no reason? Especially one who had found you later and was now staring at you?

And she was. Staring at me with wide coal black eyes and a twitching perfectly formed mouth. She didn't move. She didn't even seem to breath.

I swallowed painfully hard. What did she want from me? That's what I would've asked if I could. Hello, my name is Brennan. Can I do something for you? Do you have a problem with me? I felt like some kind of bird caught in a snake's snare, unable to move but frightened beyond belief.

Someone else suddenly appeared behind Elise, snapping me out of the trance. I stepped back in shock and confusion. It was one of her brothers, the short, dark-haired one. How long had he been standing there? I hadn't seen him walk up.

Her brother didn't make any move to touch Elise, looking between her and me several times in quick succession. He didn't talk, standing very close behind Elise as if to protect her, his face serene. His dark eyes were just as intense as hers though.

Elise suddenly broke eye contact with me, bowing her head. Her shoulders were bunched, her hands clenched. She was leaning slightly forward, toward me.

Her pale, dark haired brother raised a hand as if to place it on her shoulder, but she shook her head and he lowered his hand, looking to me with a curious expression.

I stood there unmoving, probably looking like an idiot, while all of this went on. I probably could've said hello or something, but my brain seemed to be working on half its normal power and all I could think was "Get out of here!" I turned and practically ran away down the hall.

After my initial panic attack, I remembered where it was that I wanted to go and realized that I was walking in the opposite direction. Too embarrassed and freaked out to turn around, I kept on walking, telling myself that I'd find some roundabout way to the office.

Erin Yorkie soon found me and I kept a very good eye out for any of the Cullen family while she led me back to the office. I didn't see any of them, though, and the signature slip drop-off went off without a hitch. The difficulties came later when Mike Newton saw me walking out toward Main Street.

She pulled up beside me in her little old Chevy Cavalier, her radio blasting pop music, shouting through the passenger window, "Hey, Brennan, do you need a ride?"

"No, thanks," I answered readily, trying to subtly hint that I just wanted to be alone, rain or no rain.

"You sure?" she pressed, finally turning down her radio.

I nodded and adjusted my bag's strap.

"Ok," she said, one of her eyebrows cricked upward. "See you tomorrow." She drove away.

Four other people stopped to ask if I needed a ride and I turned down all of them, getting more frustrated every time. It may or may not have been due to my internal musings.

Eventually, I got back to the house. The empty, silent, chilly house scattered with law books and file folders.

I had a time getting my sneakers off, which were so wet they acted like suction cups to my feet. My clothes were completely soaked through and I could feel the cold all the way to my center, so I went straight up to the bathroom. After peeling my clothes off and draping them over the shower rod, I took the hottest, longest shower of my life.

What the heck had happened today?

I changed into some dry jeans and a hoodie and attempted to start my English essay for Mrs. Mason, but I found that I was too antsy to sit around for very long. I ended up calling Everett, one of my old friends in Phoenix. He wasn't able to talk for very long, but his usual banter about girls and homework served its purpose; my anxiety had calmed considerably by the time he had to go.

I didn't tell him about Elise Cullen. Everett would've definitely been interested to hear about her, but I didn't tell him. I didn't understand why, though. I hadn't done anything condemnable or unusually embarrassing. Anything I would have to say would be about Elise's strange behavior, but I guess it seemed too much like gossiping. I didn't even bring it up with my mom when she came home.

As I lay in bed that night, unable to sleep, I began planning what I would say to Elise Cullen in Biology class tomorrow. I wanted to demand what her problem was or even tell her diplomatically that I didn't care what she thought about me. I knew I was a lot braver in my head than I would be in actuality. I'd probably just try ignoring her.

I was a paranoid wreck the entire next day. I kept thinking that Elise would turn a corner and I would be stuck under her stare again, unable to move while everyone else walked around me.

When lunch rolled around, I couldn't help searching out the Cullens' table. Elise's unique coppery hair color was absent. When I'd made that realization, I couldn't help the increase of anxiety. It didn't help that her family kept glancing over at me and talking quietly together.

I didn't allow myself to think too hard about her absence during lunch. She could've just forgone the cafeteria food today. I didn't know for sure that she was avoiding me. Not yet.

She wasn't in Biology. I sat alone again.

After a week, I didn't bother worrying anymore.