PROLOGUE:

It was all because of the rain. That's what I've decided to blame it on. How else could all that have happened? If I didn't love rain so much, I would never have gone to visit my brother in Seattle, and I would never EVER have heard of, let alone gone to, that godforsaken little town called Forks.

I let myself flutter around the house for another ten minutes, picking up various forgotten essentials before finally appeasing my dad and shoving my luggage in the back of the car. I gave my mom a big hug and kiss, skipping around the house for the last few things I knew I'd need. Finally, my dad's sour temper managed to get me buckled securely into the front seat and headed for the airport.

I hummed some music under my breath and tried to make conversation with the furrowed brow next to me. The hour-long drive to the airport felt a whole lot longer than it should have. Finally, he let me off, and after convincing him that I'd be able to find my way safely to the terminal by myself, I disappeared through the airport doors for a fun-filled summer in Seattle. My brother Ian had actually been the only one of my siblings not to offer me a place to stay during the summer (except for James, but one really can't expect it from him—he's got a male roommate ... an unattractive male roommate, sadly.). I had managed to coax it out of him only after promising to get a job and not to be too much trouble. I'd been to every corner of the country but the northwest, and I wasn't going to let anything stand in my way. It had partly been the intriguing power-point presentation on Seattle given in my Civics class and partly the pull of the beautiful forests and pouring rain, but one way or another, I was determined to get there.

The flight was ordinary, as they all are. I didn't sit next to anyone particularly interesting or good-looking, though the romantic half of my brain always wishes for an attractive guy to share a four-hour plane ride with. There was just a mildly pleasant middle-aged woman and a snooty-looking businessman. When I looked at that man, I grimaced. Oh, look ... it's Ian.

Ian was only twenty minutes late picking me up, and the sky was just barely tinted pink when we pulled into his driveway. He lived in a really nice apartment, in the semi-swank part of town. As he constantly reminds us, he works for Microsoft. I rolled my eyes, remembering his uppity ways, and let him help me carry my bags in. He led the way to the guest room and then left me alone, telling me dinner would be at seven.

I collapsed on the very comfortable bed with a smile. I'm going to make this fun ...

Almost a week passed in utter boredom. I still hadn't found a job that I liked, and Ian was beginning to get on my nerves with his constant debates about religion, politics, and any other subject that he thought would irk me enough to lose my composure. Finally, I knew I had to get away. But where would I go? I couldn't go back home, obviously ... Ian was the one paying for my flight, and he would probably be all offended when I said that the reason I was leaving was that I couldn't stand the sight of him for one more day.

I took to mindlessly surfing the internet (he did have a really nice computer, even if it was outfitted with Vista). I came across a page one day that piqued my interest. Forks. Forks, Washington, apparently had the nation's highest annual rainfall. The pictures I found were all greener than green, with woolly gray clouds padding the horizon. I smiled serenely as I browsed through the pictures, then abruptly looked up the town on MapQuest. I could get there in just four hours by car.

I was determined. Scowling at the prospect of a long ride trapped in a large metal box, I printed out the sheet about Forks and went to talk to Ian.

CHAPTER ONE:

I went to Forks. I rented a car and drove the long way by myself. Well ... me and my mp3 player, anyway.

When I finally arrived, it was near lunchtime, and I practically needed a machete to slice through the heavy, humid air. I stopped at a local diner and collapsed in a chair, my head on the counter. I don't do too well with driving for long periods of time. The buxom woman behind the counter slid a glass of ice-cold water to me.

"Can I get you anything?"

I looked up, shocked to be out of a car. "I, uh ... sure. Something solid. Preferably ... I don't know. Give me a minute."

I put my head back down on the counter. She was torn between worry and snorts of laughter at my strange behavior. Finally, I looked up at her again, somewhat more composed than before.

"I ... yeah, I'm hungry. And broke. What could I get that's cheap, healthy, and filling?"

She laughed at me. "Cheap? You look poor enough. I'll give you a discount. Healthy? I don't know about that, but I'm sure we can fill you up. Just give me a few minutes. I hope you like surprises."

I smiled at her and allowed myself to once more stare vacantly off into space. Just before she came back, I turned and looked out through the enormous window panes, at the approaching storm. Lightning flashed from miles away, lighting up the foggy sky. I gazed out at the dazzling landscape and was only interrupted when the woman came back with a steaming plate—a hamburger and baked potato. A tall glass of cold milk was next to it, and an apple. I smiled gratefully and ate.

After paying, I turned to go out the door, but she stopped me.

"You aren't from around here," she said.

"No, I'm not."

She smiled again. "I can tell. How about you pick up a raincoat and an umbrella? If you're going to be here for any length of time, you'll definitely need it."

"Oh, no, I --"

"Trust me." She looked me up and down once and chuckled. "You'll need one."

I was confused, but allowed her to point me toward a store that sold umbrellas.

"Newton's sporting goods is just down that way," she said, pointing.

I set off down the road and very soon understood what she meant. The rain had come on suddenly, and it was not at all as I'd imagined. It wasn't like the warm rains of late summer in Chicago—it was a full-on frigid downpour. I was wearing jeans and a hoodie, both of which became as heavy as weights when wet. I slogged down the road, hardly able to enjoy the rain because my clothes were so heavy. It was only a block or two away, but it seemed like a lot longer. By the time I went through the door, my hair was dripping into my face and my clothes were sagging off of me. I had to hold up my jeans as I walked to keep them from sliding off.

The tinkling bell sang out my arrival and I looked around the store, looking very much like a wet cat, or maybe a street urchin.

"Um ..." I started.

Immediately, a fairly good-looking teenage boy came jogging out from behind the counter and looked me up and down, wearing a sympathetically mocking smile.

"Not from around here?"

I scowled. "How come everyone keeps saying that?"

He just laughed. "That storm wouldn't catch anyone around here off-guard. You, uh ... come in here for an umbrella? Or a raincoat? Boots? Hat?"

"Ha ha ... very funny. Maybe a raincoat. I'm on a tight budget."

"Okaaay ..." he led me over to a rack with all kinds of raincoats, pointing out the various charms of each. I finally decided on a bright pink one, designed for children. It was a little short in the sleeves, but it was better than the army-green utility camping gear ones that would have drowned me. I quickly bought the raincoat and pulled off my hoodie, replacing it with the new coat.

The boy's eyebrows raised at the sight of my wet white camisole, but I quickly buttoned the raincoat and he cleared his throat.

"You ... going to be in town long?"

I shrugged. "Depends."

"On what?"

"The weather ... whether or not I can find a job ... or a place to stay."

"Well ... we're hiring here," he said a little hopefully, "Katie had to quit."

I looked around, and wasn't surprised. He was the only one I could see in the whole store, and there was a comfortable amount of business.

"I, uh ... okay," I said, "how's the pay?"

He shrugged. "A little over minimum wage."

"That'll work," I said quickly. He looked confused, and I explained. "Okay, so I'm from Utah. I was staying with my brother in Seattle, but hated it, because he annoyed the heck out of me. So ... I came here, because the Internet said it rained a lot. And apparently ... the Internet wasn't lying, for once."

He laughed out loud at that. "Oh, that's funny. You knew about the rain and you wanted to come anyway?"

"Yeah. I miss humidity. Moving from Illinois to Utah was pretty rough."

"Illinois? That's cool."

"Yeah, it was great."

There was a slightly tense awkward silence before he finally continued.

"You know, uh ... my brother left for college a year or two ago, and we have a spare bedroom in the basement. As long as you don't ... I don't know ... smoke crack or anything," I laughed, and he continued. "I'm sure my mom would let you stay, if you were working here."

"What? Does she run a home for wandering teenagers or something? That's kind of a lot to ask."

He shrugged and turned a little red. "It's worth a try though, right? What could happen?"

I smiled at him. He was a nice guy. He seemed embarrassed. Clearing his throat, he looked me up and down quickly.

"I'd, uh ... recommend you get changed first, though ..."

I realized why looking presentable was so important once I'd met his mother. She wore high heels and perfectly dyed and styled hair for working around the house. Her kitchen was absolutely immaculate. I could tell now why Mike looked so unusually clean for a teenage boy.

Unfortunately, I'm the sort of girl that is far more popular with boys' moms than with the boys themselves. Mrs. Newton immediately took to me and showed me the room, offering me the job without so much as an interview.

"But ... don't I have to fill out an application? Have an interview?"

She waved that away. "Pssh. Of course not. You can make umbrellas look nice on a rack, and you seem like a hard worker. And you're not stupid—all those English awards! How interesting! And you said you sang, too?"

I was stuck, whether or not I wanted to be. Fortunately for me, I did want to be ... for now, at least.