Forwarded To My Future

by Foenix2phorks

Bella is resigned to living a boring and unfulfilling life until she's old enough to graduate. But that was before fate stepped in. Looking up from her lunch tray, she sees four perfectly sculpted, pale faces- plus a bronze-haired, green eyed boy known for his gentility. He's not like the other boys in Forks. And she is the only person that finds out just how special he is. AU.

1. Hungry Eyes

A/N- This story is basically Bella's POV to my other story Forward To The Future which can be found on my profile (hint, hint), however you CAN read this by itself if you want to. It will be a fully functional story in its own right. Each story will have scenes that the other will not have.

To make this a little more interesting for you if you DID read the other story, and more challenging to me, I will be rating this as Mature for future adult content that Edward's POV will not have (though, please keep in mind that this Edward is a total gentleman, so premarital sex will not be happening. Sorry!).

And, before you ask, this is BxE only- there will be no "falling in love" with Jacob.

Thanks goes to FireRed21 for asking if I was planning on doing a BPOV. I'm not sure if this BPOV would exist right now if I hadn't been asked. So, go thank FireRed21 by checking out his stories on his profile! He has a ton.

Chapter 1 of this corresponds to Chapter 19 of Forward To The Future.

---

00000000000000000000

Chapter 1- Hungry Eyes

January 18, 2005- Forks, Washington

00000000000000000000

Everyone assumes that Hell is made from fire and brimstone. But I have to disagree. In my opinion, Hell is comprised of rain and mud.

And my Hell is a little no-nothing town called Forks.

Maybe I'm not being fair. Forks has some good things going for it. It has a small, hometown feel to it- one where you can forget to lock your car door at night and still feel confident that no one would even think about touching it. There's even a Thriftway grocery store that acts as the town's central gathering place which carries produce, bakery goods, and juicy gossip.

And, there are a lot of trees.

Lots and lots of trees...

OK. After thinking about it, maybe I was right the first time. This place is Hell.

I was born here seventeen years ago to a pair of fresh faced high school sweethearts. Then, as these things often do, the young lovers ran into a problem- she wanted freedom from this rain drenched town and he didn't. So, she packed up her bags, buckled me into a car seat, and notified her husband that the divorce papers were being drawn up before she drove us out of this dreary place.

Mom and I eventually settled in Phoenix- a place sunny, warm, and interesting. In Phoenix, you can safely assume that when you walk outside you won't be slushing through the rain, sleet or mud. In Phoenix, no one really cares if you're the new face at school because there's already a couple of thousand to be interested in- faces that are way more beautiful than mine could ever hope to be. And, in Phoenix, if you're suddenly hungry for pizza, or burgers, or Thai food you can drive five minutes and you'll find what you're craving- you wouldn't need to drive an hour away to get something decent to eat. Basically, Phoenix is everything Forks is not.

And, unfortunately, I now find myself stuck here in a self-imposed purgatory.

Mom had always lived a somewhat bohemian lifestyle ever since she cut ties from the Olympic Peninsula. She often goes through phases of interest. There's been vegetarianism, crystal therapy, quilting, gardening, genealogy, knitting, yoga, and a dozen others that she was once obsessed with.

In between these distractions, she dated.

The guys that entered our lives never lasted very long. I once mentioned that since one of those ex-boyfriends was a plumber that maybe we could call him to fix our kitchen faucet when I accidentally broke it. She couldn't recall him at all. I guess that sums up her past relationships with the exception of my father. She couldn't forget him because I was a physical reminder of their love affair- kind of like the string some people tie on their fingers to remind them of random things.

Early last year she walked into the house with a man that was at least seven years younger than herself. At first glance, he was a nice, good looking guy. He was a minor league baseball player that looked good in the uniform but didn't have much talent to go along with it. Surprisingly enough, he lasted a lot longer than the other guys that she had previously dated. Then, last September, I was shocked when Mom tossed me a bubblegum pink, knee length bridesmaid gown and announced that she was about to become Mrs. Philip Dwyer.

At first, it went well. Phil is an easy going type of person. He doesn't try to boss me around. He doesn't snoop into my business. And, he isn't one of those creepy, sleazy stepfather's that try to sneak hidden cameras into a teenage girl's bedroom. Everything seemed to go fine until it was time for him to travel with his team.

Mom tried to hide it, but I could see the spark that only he put into her eyes was gone the moment he stepped onto the plane. She insisted that she wanted to stay with me in Phoenix so that I could continue to go to school. That night, she tried to smile and laugh, though it was easy to see that she missed him.

As much as I love her, I know that she's a scatterbrain. She can't balance her checkbook. She forgets to pay the utility bills. She only remembers to refill the gas tank after her car is sputtering and stalling on the road. She thought that the Reverend Jesse Jackson had once been apart of the Jackson 5 until I burst her bubble.

I became her caretaker to a certain extent. I was cooking our meals when I hit nine years old after suffering through years of her cooking. She is the only person that I have ever met that could cook a chicken charcoal black on the outside but iceberg frozen on the inside. She came to depend upon me for remembering everything that a "grown up" should be able to keep up with. I was the one who usually picked up our groceries. I checked that the smoke alarm batteries were changed twice a year. I was the one who interrogated her after I caught her reading an email from someone who claimed that she had just inherited ten million dollars from a just discovered oil well in Nigeria.

When other girls my age were pretending to run a household in their playhouse in the backyard, I was busy planning our meals for the upcoming week and reminding Mom to go to her dentist appointments. But, I'm not complaining about my childhood- I was happy and content.

In late December, I watched as Phil and Mom were tearfully kissing each other goodbye at the Phoenix Airport after his short Christmas break had come to an end. That's when I came to the decision that I couldn't hold her back any longer. He was a pretty smart man. He was dependable. And, he loved her.

She needed him now a lot more than she needed me.

So, I decided to set her free. I would move in with Charlie and stay in Forks until I graduated high school. Yes, it would be boring and possibly drive me into a state of mental depression, but I knew that couldn't do anything about that. At least Charlie would be pleased.

Besides, I only have about a year and a half of high school left. I could fight my way through this mess. Then I could get out of Forks and the Olympic Peninsula and never look back.

Charlie Swan, my dad, still lives in Forks as the Chief of Police. For two weeks every year, I would be sent back to Forks to "visit" him- which usually consisted of me watching him fish and then gut his catch on his kitchen counter. Needless to say, this is not something that every little girl dreams of doing during their summer vacation. Once I hit fourteen years old, I managed to convince him that we would have a way better time if we were to go to real life, interesting places. Places that don't make squishing sounds when you walk outside in your sneakers, for instance.

That was three years ago. I hadn't been back to Forks since.

Well, I hadn't until yesterday.

Charlie picked me up at the Port Angeles airport and drove us back to the home that he bought with my mom years ago. As we pulled into the driveway, he surprised me with a gift- a 1953 rusty red truck that I immediately fell in love with. Yeah, it's old and sounds like a jet engine when you crank it, but it was free to me so I'm not going to complain. He nodded his head and twitched his mustache when I thanked him- that's Charlie Swan's way of saying that he is very pleased that I liked his gift. He mentioned that he wanted me to have a way to go to school everyday without having to rely on getting a ride from someone else. I was a little stunned. I wasn't used to someone being considerate and thoughtful like this for me. Mom would have never realized that I needed a vehicle of my own without a prompt from me.

Charlie's house was just the same as always. Though it's two floors tall, it's still pretty small- two bedrooms, a living room, and a medium sized kitchen in the back. And, unfortunately, it has only one bathroom- and I would be sharing it with dear old Dad. That means that I can't keep any of my feminine stuff in the medicine cabinet like I did back home. Just the thought of Charlie seeing tampons and my Lady Bic is enough to send me into hysterics.

The only highlight of this mess is my room. My mom had painted it a light, sky blue color back before I was born- which I have always considered proof that they had been hoping for a baby boy. The room isn't spectacular. It has no amazing views out of its window to enjoy (only the dull, gray clouds and the suffocating green of the surrounding forest). But, it is a place where I can escape to whenever I need to be alone, at least. And, thankfully, my dad is the type of guy who likes to keep to himself, too. I could cry my eyes out all night and he would be none the wiser unless he heard me. So, that's what I did. I quietly cried into my white feathered pillow until I fell asleep sometime around one o'clock in the morning. My first day of school was in a matter of a few hours and I dreaded it.

My school in Phoenix was huge. No one took much notice of me and I liked that arrangement just fine. I was mostly a loner. Sure, I had a few friendly acquaintances, but none of them seemed to mind too much when I announced that I was moving away.

Marcie and Anna had the idea for us to eat at my favorite pizzeria the day before I was due to move, which was touching because I thought that they were trying to find a nice way to say goodbye to me. Then, that thought flew out of the window when I realized that they had forgotten all about it. I spent the next half hour listening to how excited they were because the Kelly Clarkson concert was coming in a few weeks, and how they hoped to find new jeans that wouldn't make their butts look big.

That's when I realized that my mom wasn't the most forgetful person in the world. She had at least helped me buy a new winter wardrobe for my new life in the coldest, rainiest, and dreariest place on Earth.

And that's where I now find myself- sitting at a lunchroom table at Forks High School where its entire student population is roughly the same size as my last school's marching band. Everyone is staring at me like they've never seen a pale girl with average looks and long, brown hair before. I hate being the center of attention. I want nothing more than to just grab my tray of food and run outside to eat at one of the picnic tables stationed outside. But this is Forks, of course. It's been raining on and off all day, and will probably do so for the next month before Mother Nature decides to show me a little mercy by giving me a little sunshine and warmth.

Ever since I set foot on the school grounds this morning, students have been coming up to meet me. Now, I'm not a hermit. I can appreciate friendliness just as much as the next person. But, the first words out of everyone's mouth here is something like, "Oh! It's nice to meet you, Isabella."

I cringe every time.

For the record, I prefer to go by the name of Bella Swan. Isabella is too formal for a girl like me. It's meant for tall, mysterious women with brains, grace, and beauty. I may have the brains to a certain point, but I could never hope to get the rest. So, Bella is what I shall always be known by.

Sitting beside me in the cafeteria is a curly haired girl that seems to be gossip-central. She introduced herself to me as Jessica and immediately assaulted me with questions about my life. Thankfully, since I must be pretty uninteresting once you get to know me, she quickly dropped the interrogation and starts sharing her life story instead. I let out a relieved breath and counted my blessings that she did not get much information to spread around. The last thing I need is to be gossiped about by a bunch of bored-stiff kids.

Not that I can blame them much. I guess if I had been living here all of my life I would be starving for something new to alleviate the boredom, too. There's really not much to do here. There's the beach that's too cold most of the time to swim in, and there's the local diner where they serve milkshakes. That's it. For anything interesting, you have to drive to Port Angeles- an hour's drive away from here.

So far from what I've seen, most of the kids here are nice and friendly. They're actually happy here- which is hard for me to believe. Many of them are what I like to call lifers- they were born here, will likely live here after they graduate, and will eventually die here in a few decades time.

And here I go depressing myself again...

Jessica is telling me about some girl named Lisa's soap-opera-of-a-life story and I take the time to eat my food. I've learned enough by now to know that she'll be talking for the next five minutes straight. All I need to do to contribute to the conversation is hmm and ohh every so often.

She just mentioned how Lisa broke up with her boyfriend of three months for some exchange student when I look up from my tray and notice a group of students across the room that seem different from the rest. Out of the whole cafeteria, the students sitting there look like they all stepped out of Vogue magazine. They are all extremely good-looking and are dressed more fashionably than this crumby town is accustomed to. But, even with all their beauty, they look unhappy for some reason.

They look almost as depressed as me.

And they don't seem interested in my status as "the new girl" either. Every other student here keeps taking peeks at me- or worse, openly gawking with mouth ajar. But not these people. They are looking at everything but me. It's as if they have absolutely no interest in me at all.

These are my kind of people.

The blonde-haired Aphrodite is staring down at her tray with a deep scowl. And, somehow, even with that frown she is easily the most beautiful girl that I've ever seen. There are girls back home that would kill to attain an hourglass figure like hers. Women like her only exist in old black and white film noir movies. She would have been perfect as a Veronica Lake or Lauren Bacall type of actress.

Sitting next to her is a dark-haired, brawny guy that looks like he would be a good choice to portray the Incredible Hulk. He has muscles everywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if his muscles had muscles. He is busy stirring something on his tray, but I never see him actually eating anything. He's frowning a little and he keeps looking at a girl across the table from him- almost like they are having a conversation without moving their lips.

Across the table from the big guy is a blonde boy that looks as though he has just eaten something disgusting. His face is contorted into a grimace. And even though he isn't as big as his friend, he looks just as intimidating. They could team up and go into the bodyguard business together.

Beside him is a tiny girl with short, spiky hair that looks like she is trying to comfort him. She has her arm wrapped around his shoulder in a half hug. Her elven face and tiny button nose gives her a fairytale character type of look. If this school had a drama department, she would be perfect for Tinker Bell.

All four of them look like Greek statues come to life. Their faces are perfect- angular and classically beautiful. No zits. No crooked teeth. Not even a split end on their perfect heads, I bet.

The only imperfection that I see is that they each have dark, bruise-like circles under their eyes, like they stayed up all night studying for a test. And, all four of them are extremely pale- pallid and ashen looking. Paler than even me, and I had people in Phoenix who assumed I was a recently released hospital patient- why else would I be ivory white in one of the sunniest cities in the USA?

I notice that the tiny, dark-haired girl has an anxious look on her face, but it isn't aimed at the blonde guy that she's cuddling with. Instead, she keeps glancing at a boy sitting across the table from her.

While the others at his table are breathtakingly beautiful, this boy is handsome in a different way. His skin is not a sickly white- it is a warm beige that is just as blemish free as his friends'. His face is a mix of boyish charm and mature masculinity. His strong, square jaw is free from stubble.

I quickly decide that his most interesting characteristic is his hair. It's an unusual shade of reddish-brown that I have never seen before. Tufts of this bronze hair are sticking up in a state of perfect chaos. Occasionally, he unconsciously runs his fingers through it and flattens it down to his scalp. But it's as though his hair has a mind of its own. It always pops back up just the same as it had been before.

And, just like his friends sitting with him, I can see that he's unhappy.

His lips are turned down at the corners. And though he's talking now to the blonde boy, they don't say much more than a sentence or two before they return to silence. Even from this distance, I can see that his eyes look strained.

I don't know why, but I can't stop watching him. He's doing nothing special. He's just sitting there looking as miserable as I feel today.

Maybe I'm starting to become just like the rest of these kids from Forks. I've now become so deprived of stimuli that I've been reduced to staring at complete strangers as if they are the most interesting people in the world.

So pathetic...

All in one motion, the boy's head snaps up and stares across the lunchroom. His eyes zone in on mine and I become caught in their gaze. Normally, I would be embarrassed at having been caught watching someone like this and I would immediately look away. I should be able to just turn my head a few degrees in any direction to save myself from this humiliation.

But I can't get away from those eyes.

I feel trapped and simultaneously paralyzed- as if I were looking at a hypnosis wheel instead of an ordinary boy. My heart starts fluttering in my chest and my breathing speeds up. It feels as though he can see inside of me- all of my insecurities, my dreams, my fears, everything that I normally hide from the world.

Just when I think that I will be sitting like this forever, he breaks our connection and his eyes flick away- freeing me from the spell I had been under. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to break out from the dazed feeling he left me with.

I'm not sure how long it lasted. It could have been five seconds or twenty minutes. Somehow time had become meaningless.

Now he's staring down at his tray of uneaten food and tearing a bagel apart with his fingers. It's almost as if our strange interaction had never occurred.

"Who are they?" I ask Jessica after she finishes talking.

She glances quickly to their table, somehow knowing exactly who I was referring to. "That's the Cullens," she giggles in a hushed voice. "They all live with Dr. Cullen and his wife."

"Oh, so they're brothers and sisters," I say even though I think that none of them look very much alike.

Snickering into her hand, she rolls her eyes. "Uh, no," she retorts in a voice that sounds like she thinks I should already know the details. "The two blondes are twins and they're Mrs. Cullen's nephew and niece. They're foster kids. The other three were adopted by the doctor and his wife separately through the years."

The thought of anyone dealing with five teenagers at once is mind boggling. I'd bet that this doctor and his wife have diffused more battles and arguments in their house during their parental lives than the entire United Nations.

"That's nice," I remark. "To take in so many kids like that. It must be hard on them sometimes."

"They can totally afford it!" she snorts, misunderstanding my meaning. "They could probably adopt the entire eleventh grade class and still have plenty of cash to buy more luxury vehicles. I hear that their house is enormous- like castle huge! I can't wait to see it for myself one day."

As I continue to watch the Cullens, the boy lifts his head and meets my eyes. Panicked that he has caught me watching him (again), I dart my eyes away to look at Jessica. I take a few breaths to calm my frantically beating heart and decide to extract more information about the boy if I can.

I have to find out how he is getting this reaction out of me.

Maybe Jessica knows his story. He's probably a amateur hypnotist. I bet he's using me as a guinea pig or something. That's the only explanation I can think of. Why else would he be looking at me like that?

"Who's the one with the reddish brown hair?" I ask her while forcing myself to not look at the boy in question.

In response, she takes a peek across the room and softly squeaks when she sees that he's turned in our direction. "Ohmygod!" she gasps out. "I can't believe it! He was looking at me!" Her chest begins heaving like she's having a panic attack.

"What's wrong?" I question her. I quickly glance at the boy and see that he's no longer looking at us. He seems to be people watching but his interest changes by the second. He doesn't stay on one face for long.

"Nothing! This is the best day ever!" she squeals excitedly while fanning herself with her hand. "I've been waiting for this for months."

"Waiting for what exactly?"

"For him to finally get over his fears," she dreamily replies with a sigh.

"Oh," I hum as if I understand her. But I don't. I really, really don't.

Without taking her eyes off him, she places her chin in her hand and gazes unabashedly at the Cullen table. "He's Edward Masen. He's the newest member of their family. The doctor and his wife adopted him a couple of months before the start of the school year. He's from Chicago originally and he moved here after his whole family died." It sounds like she has this abbreviated history of his life memorized.

"That's so sad," I mutter. "It must be hard to move from a place like Chicago to a small town like this after losing everything in your life." I feel guilty now for ever feeling sorry for myself. At least I had Charlie here. This Edward sounded like he lost everything.

"Yeah, I guess it would be," she says as though she has never considered that aspect of his life before. "But, you'd never know it by the way he acts. He's the nicest member of their family. He's the only one that will talk to anyone outside of their group."

"What do you mean?"

Casually, she shrugs her shoulder. "The Cullens' are known for wanting privacy and stuff. They would rather ignore the rest of us and pretend that we don't exist. The only person besides Edward that even tries to be nice is Alice Cullen- and even that's rare. The most she'll do is say 'hi' if you try to talk to her."

This was a surprise. At any other school people like them would be apart of the It Crowd. They would be the popular kids. But here they chose to be the outsiders.

"Which one is Alice?" I ask Jessica while quickly taking a peek across the cafeteria.

"Alice is the small dark one," she answers. Then, lowering her voice, she adds more information. "Jasper Hale is next to her and they're together." She says this in a scandalised tone.

Blinking my eyes confusedly, I whip my head back to look at Jessica. "They're dating?"

"Yes!" she giddily confirms, probably thrilled that she shocked me. "The big guy is Emmett Cullen and he's with Rosalie Hale, the blonde girl beside him. You can just imagine what must go on at their house!" Jessica then seemed to drift off in thought, as if she really was trying to picture it in her head. This is further proof to me that the people of Forks are desperate for entertainment.

Even I have to admit that it isn't common to see adopted kids dating while living in the same house. But, that's their business. If it made them happy and their adoptive parents approved, who am I to think badly of them?

"That is a little unusual, I guess," I listlessly reply, taking a sip of my lemonade.

"You bet it is," she agrees, not noticing my lack of interest. "But it's also a plus if you ask me."

"How so?"

"Well, you see how Alice is hanging all over Jasper?" I nod my head and she continues. "Emmett and Rosalie are the same way. I think everyone here has seen those two making out in the parking lot at least once. And I hear that Mr. and Mrs. Cullen are really touchy feely too. They're always holding hands and hugging when they're seen together."

I was definitely not seeing her point. The PDA these people sometimes displayed didn't seem to be something that Jessica should be so excited about. Unless she's a voyeur or something...

"OK," I hesitantly respond. "So what about it?"

Jessica's eyes light up and she starts to bounce in her seat. "Edward's not with anyone! He hasn't even gone out on a single date since he's been here. And trust me, he could if he wanted to. He could take a new girl out every Saturday night and still have plenty waiting in line for their turn."

Another surprise. Back home, guys that looked like him would have a girl on each arm while winking at a third across the room.

Or maybe I just went to school with a bunch of jerks...

But I failed to see how a single guy and his overly affectionate adopted family could benefit Jessica in any way. "And?" I say in confusion.

She releases a dramatic breath and rolls her eyes. "Don't you get it?" she questions as if I'm a complete idiot. "Being around so many couples will make him eventually cave! Seeing three couples kissing and stuff all the time will drive him crazy! At some point he'll need to find an outlet to express his inner, built-up sexual frustration. And I'll just happen to be there to assist him when that time comes."

Either she is a desperate genius or she has been reading too many Harlequin romance novels. I was betting on the latter.

"Really?" I skeptically reply.

"Yes!" she exclaims excitedly, not sensing my doubt. "I've been working on him for months." Stuffing a French fry in her mouth, she continues to stare at Edward. "You should have seen it when he first showed up here. Girls were practically throwing themselves at him!" she recalls as she rolls her eyes. "It was totally disgusting how they couldn't figure out for themselves that he is just too shy of a guy to treat that way. With a guy like Edward, you need to be persistent and consistent."

She really lost me now.

"What do you mean?" I ask, more confused than ever.

"Oh," she nods with a slight smirk on her face, almost like she's embarrassed for me. "I see. You must not have much experience with guys, huh?"

"No, I don't," I reluctantly admit. My knowledge of the inner workings of the male psyche is limited to the fictional beaus of my Jane Austen collection. And, since Miss Austen never married, this may explain why I've never been out on a date before.

She nods her head again, her smirk disappearing. "Well, I'll help you out. Shy guys need the girl to take charge and not give up on them. Most of the girls here gave up after the first month of trying. A few stuck with it until Thanksgiving. Well, I'm the last one. One day, he's going to realize how persistent and faithful I am and admit that he cares for me just as much as I'm crazy about him."

Interesting hypothesis, but I suddenly become concerned that she is overlooking a critical detail. "But how do you know he likes you in that way?" I gently question her.

Throwing back her head, she laughs loudly at what I thought was a valid question. "It's totally easy to tell, Bella!" she giggles with a dismissive wave of her hand. "All you need to do is just look at a boy's body language when he's around you. Take for instance what happened to me just before Christmas break. I bought Edward this huge teddy bear with a little Santa hat, you see. It was so cute! It even had a shirt on it that said 'All I Want For Christmas Is You'." For a few moments, her eyes appear to glaze over as she recalls that day.

"Anyway," she continues after snapping back to reality, "I waited to give it to him at the end of the day. Edward comes out of his Spanish class with his brother Emmett, so I start calling out his name and waving with my one free arm to get their attention, right? Well, Edward didn't hear me or something cause he starts walking faster to get to his car. But his brother starts laughing and catches Edward by his shoulders to stop him from leaving. Thanks to Emmett, I was able to catch up to them and give Edward his present!" Her face turns dreamy again and she deeply sighs. "You should have seen him. He was so cute! He could barely open his mouth to thank me cause his teeth were clenched together so tightly and he couldn't look at me at all! Instead, he kept glaring down at Emmett."

All I could do is blink back at her with a blank face. Maybe I wasn't an expert in male psychology, but I did not see how a reaction like that could be construed as proof of attraction. To me it sounded like the guy was trying to escape. But, hey, what do I know?

Jessica huffs out a frustrated breath once she notices my confusion. "Don't you know anything about boys?" she irritably tsks. "He may be too shy to show that he likes me, but his brother knows! That's why Emmett wouldn't let Edward just walk off without getting my gift! He was trying to help us!"

"Oh," I uncomfortably respond.

Slyly, I peek at the Cullens and see that they are nimbly rising from their seats and are heading towards the door. Edward stuffs his hands into his pockets and walks with his head down. With a small gasp, Jessica covertly tries to look like she has not been ogling him for the past five minutes. Once she sees that his focus is elsewhere, she goes back to pitifully staring at him like a dog does when there's a juicy steak just out of their reach. "Just look at him," she wistfully sighs. "He can't even look at me again. That's so sweet."

I'm not sure about sweet, but he's definitely tall. All three of the boys are, actually. They tower over tiny Alice and Rosalie.

The bell rings a couple of minutes later and this girl with glasses and honey brown hair offers to take me to my next class- Biology II. She introduces herself as Angela and doesn't say another word. I'm thankful. After listening to Jessica for the past hour, the silence is a welcome treat.

I hate the layout of this school. Instead of having all the classes in one or two buildings, like a normal learning institution would have, this place scatters the classes into small buildings across the campus. Even worse, the buildings aren't even connected by a covered roof. You have to run through the rain and cold in order to go from class to class. It's like the people that planned this school consulted my nightmares before they drew up the blueprints.

I follow Angela until we reach the science building and we make it inside our class just before the bell rings. The class is made up of a dozen or so tables with two students assigned to each one. The room is packed with kids. And it appears that everyone is watching me again. You would think that they stared at me enough during lunch to last them for the rest of the day, but I guess not.

Stupid, boring Forks...

According to the secretary in the front office, each of my new teachers need to sign the slip of paper that I have pinched between my fingers. I scan the room and quickly spot my new Biology teacher, Mr. Banner if my paperwork is correct, standing near the back of the room. He's digging through a filing cabinet and doesn't notice me yet. Attempting to ignore the fascinated stares of the class, I straighten my posture and begin walking down the aisle.

I'm almost halfway to Mr. Banner when I turn my head slightly to the right and accidentally focus on a pair of piercing green eyes. I swear that I can feel them. They are a deep pure green, bright and alert. At first glance, I think that eyes of this color only exist in contact lens form- they are far too unusual to be real. But, just like earlier, I can't look away.

Somewhere in the back of my muddled mind, I remember that this is the boy from the cafeteria. Edward Masen.

My feet shuffle forward like a zombie as I stare dazedly at this admittedly good-looking but still ordinary boy.

Suddenly, his brows furrow down and a small frown appears on his face. Like the klutz that I am, I become so distracted in watching his changing facial expressions, I don't notice the book that someone has left on the ground until my foot hits it.

Tripping on my first day at a new school. Typical.

I fall forward and accept that I will be showcasing my lack of grace in front of everyone. Thankfully, however, I catch myself by hanging onto a neighboring table before I fall down completely. It could have been worse.

My pride now long gone, I straighten myself back up into a standing position, like a toddler just learning how to walk. That's when I realize that my clumsiness saved me. I am no longer in a never ending staring contest with Edward Masen. I gratefully take the opportunity and avoid looking his way again as I walk to Mr. Banner. The teacher quickly signs my slip and tells me to take a seat where I can. I stand on my toes and spin in place to look for an empty spot. My heart chooses to start thumping in my chest the instant that I see that I'm in trouble. There's only one vacant seat in this entire classroom.

I will be sitting next to my personal hypnotist for the rest of the year.

My lungs go into low hyperventilation mode and I try to hold in my breath for a few seconds.

He's just a boy, I repeat like a mantra inside my head.

This makes me feel a little bit better and my breathing returns to normal, so I order my feet to head over to that chair that sits two feet away from him and reluctantly pull it out to take a seat. I stare straight ahead and remind myself that I'm overreacting.

He's just a boy.

He's just a boy.

He's just a boy.

My heart is beating normally again. I can do this. All I need to do now is just keep my head pointed towards the chalkboard for the next four and a half months. I can ignore the boy with his glowing green eyes and bronze hair and pretend that he doesn't affect me at all.

But, my traitorous eyes find a way to disregard my direct orders. I angle my head to the side, trying to be covert about my spying. Just one quick, sneak peek to see what he's up to...

He's watching me.

This boy is watching me with a strange intensity that stuns me- I can feel the goosebumps rising on my arms. I've had people watch me all day. It should not be something that surprises me. Yet, no one has done it like this or managed to get this kind of reaction out of me.

I gasp at seeing such raw emotion in a pair of polished jade green eyes and flit my own eyes away from his- determined to ignore him for the rest of class. Focused now on Mr. Banner, I try to concentrate on the lesson instead of my new lab partner.

Oh. God.

He's my lab partner now.

I will be expected to work with him. And talk like a normal person with him. How can I be expected to do all that if I can barely look at him without entering into a comatose state?

I am going to fail this class...

The teacher is droning on about plant cell structures and making a third of the class wish that they carried a pillow in their backpacks. But he at least seems to be knowledgeable about the subject. That's a plus. There's nothing worse than having a teacher that really couldn't care less about the subject they teach. A boring but knowledgeable teacher is better than a disinterested one by a mile.

Ten minutes before the bell is supposed to ring, I see Edward fidgeting around out of the corner of my eye. I tilt my head just enough to secretly watch him. Every so often, he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, as if he's trying to wake himself. His fingers occasionally drag through his tousled hair.

Another few minutes pass and I see him sluggishly slump forward in his seat. He grabs the tabletop in a death grip, the knuckles of his large hand turn white from the pressure, and he subtly moans. The snug fitting white knit shirt he is wearing is rolled up to his elbows- exposing the taut and hardened muscles of his forearm as they strain from the force he is inflicting on our table.

No longer hiding the fact that I'm looking at him, my gaze moves upwards to his face. A light sheen of sweat is forming on his forehead. His upper body is wobbling in his seat, like I do when I'm on the verge of fainting. But it is his face that shocks me the most. It is tortured and vulnerable- the watchful and lively face from lunch has vanished.

I can no longer help myself. I can't stand seeing anyone, even my personal hypnotist, be in such pain.

"Are you OK?" I whisper to avoid getting caught talking during class.

Haltingly, he pivots his head until he meets my eyes.

They are stunning up close like this. More like gleaming jewels than human eyes. Inexplicably, I change my mind about their origin- I can't believe that he would ever bother wearing contacts. They have to be his natural color.

Opening his mouth as though he is about to speak, he abruptly snaps it shut before he says a word. His entire face squinches together and his eyes lock shut. I'm not sure what to think about this boy. He's either in extreme pain, or whenever he gets a good look at my face, it disgusts him.

At the clang of the bell, he shoots up from his seat and jets out of the room. All his books and notes from class are laying abandoned on our table. I stare at the door for a few seconds like an idiot, thinking that he'll come back for them. But he doesn't.

I gather up my stuff and slowly begin to stand up. I continuously peek down at his books, wondering what will happen to them if he doesn't come back. Will Mr. Banner know that they are his? Should I turn them in?

While I'm quietly speculating about the fate of Edward's things, I see a startlingly white hand land on his biology text book. My head snaps up to see a tiny girl gathering up his things into her arms. The top of her head barely reaches above my shoulder. Her hair is black, cropped short and poking up in a modern style. Her eyes are a strange golden hue- large and feline.

And she is widely beaming up at me.

"Hi, Bella!" Alice Cullen perkily chirps just before she zooms away- down the aisle and out the door before I can even think to respond.

I stand there in complete amazement.

She talked to me.

Jessica's earlier discussion of the Cullens' isolation popped back into my head. She said that they were all exceptionally quiet except for Edward. That they were not very friendly with non-family members.

But maybe Jessica was just exaggerating. This Alice seemed plenty nice to me. She even knew to call me by my preferred name.

Actually, she was the first person today that called me Bella instead of Isabella.

That was-

"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" suddenly asks a baby-faced boy with blonde hair and icy blue eyes.

I try not to cringe at the sound of my real name as I answer him. "It's Bella," I reply with a forced smile.

"Oh," he responds with a puzzled face. Then, with a shrug of acceptance, he introduces himself. "I'm Mike. Do you need any help finding your next class?"

I shake my head, not wanting to be a bother. "Thanks, but I think I can handle it. It's just Gym."

A huge grin spreads across his face. "That's my class, too," he cheerfully reveals.

Together we walk to the gymnasium and I discover that he is the male equivalent to Jessica- he likes to talk. A lot.

In the span of only a couple of minutes, I find out more about Mike than I thought possible. Mike moved from California to Forks when he was ten years old. His parents opened up a sporting goods store that caters to hikers wanting to explore the national park. He would be on the football team if it hadn't been for a knee injury he received after slipping on an icy sidewalk a couple of years ago. He prefers hiking boots to sneakers. He wears sunscreen at all times, even when it's raining. He once hiked a well-known trail in four hours and twenty-three minutes- apparently that is an impressive time.

Once we reach the gym, we part ways and Coach Clapp lets me watch instead of participate in their sporting events. Today is volleyball day and I thank my lucky stars that I wouldn't be tripping and stumbling around on my first day. Let the kids here think I'm a normal girl that can walk without falling face first before breaking the bad news to them.

After I get home and eat dinner with Charlie, I climb into my bed and stretch out under the blankets. It's raining again, but at least it's not that pounding rain that keeps me up at night. The huge tree outside of my window gently sways from the light breeze, creating moving shadows across my room. The sight intrigues me for some reason, so I sit up and look towards the window. From this angle, I can see the light from the street lamp hitting the foliage in a way that makes my breath hitch. The leaves of the tree are glowing an eerie, vibrant emerald green. Both intense and beautiful.

Just like the eyes of that boy from Biology II.

I remind myself that I'm being ridiculous. I'm sure that there is a rational explanation for why I felt so weird today. Besides, it's just a pair of ordinary eyes. There's nothing to worry about.

He's just a boy...

Yeah. Right.

00000000000000000000

A/N- That's it for chapter 1.

Next chapter- Alice is up to something... And, the green-eyed boy speaks.

Thanks for reading! ;-)