Harry potter was finally at peace, a month after his defeat of Voldemort he permanently moved into the burrow. Surrounded by love and friendship he over came his survivors guilt, well and quite a few beatings from Hermione and Ginny got him over his guilt... Today, he thought was a glorious day, until it all hit the quaffle. The thing is it was a glorious day the sun was shining the birds chirping the gnomes nibbling at stolen corn, mischievous twins concocting experiments. Hermione and Ron not, fighting for a change and everybody was enjoying a bloody awesome game of quidditch.
Hermione soon grown bored with the game instead of fighting dirty and letting lose she called it quits wishing for something interesting to read. Now if Hermione knew that dobby the house elf was standing in the shadows at that point she would have shut up her complaining arse and go play some quidditch. But dobby, sweet loving dobby the ever pleasing machine snapped his fingers three times. The sky slowly darkened the temperature dropped. Scared everyone flicked out their wands wondering if dementors prowled the skies. Which would be absolutely ridiculous since the ministry banished all dementors to the Swiss Alps.
"Harry what's going on!" Ginny screeched obviously harry's fish face gave her, her answer she scurried out towards the twins and gripped her favorite brothers with a molly approved bear hug. The wind picked up, loud eerie whooshes, trees seemed petrified and twisted .Hermione started putting up shields ushering Ginny and the boys underneath it. It was a timeless scene Hermione didn't know whether it was a minute , a second, and hour, a year Than like the heavens opened up screaming hallelujah the clouds separated, a pearly pink color shown down straight unto the ground something seemed to be floating no shooting seemed more accurate down the pink quickly changed to a bright searing gold expanding outwards the light had gotten so bright everyone was shielding there eyes despite Hermione's shields you could feel the heat seeping into your skin then…. The light flashed black the wind stopped and whatever force was there seemed to be dragging them forward Hermione screeching to hold on to each other a last whisper of "your wish is granted miss harry potters grangey" and all was gone.
…
"Merlins, bloody balls!" the Twins and Ron yelled in unison "oh Ronald! Honestly calm down!"
"Hermione's right lets think about this logically , like right now all this yelling is not working out for anyone's wrackspurts." "Luna! When the bloody hell did you get here" "okay we "Fred announced "are completely flabbergasted!" George finished the twins then looked towards Hermione and wiggled there eye brows "impressed with our big words granger ""Not in the slightest" disappointed the twins went off into a corner that looked a lot like the Gryffindor common room. "Hey you lot!" the female red head hollered "there's a book with a note on it that says we should read it" "ooh really what's it called" Hermione creepily sauntered towards it. "Twilight " Harry said " by Stephanie Meyer" " you heard of this Meyer chit mione" " no Ron I haven't but it looks like we were all sent here to read it so…" when no one moved to busy shying away from Luna's out of nowhere tells of nargles and flagger waggles . The spirited curly haired witch made a face and waved her fingers in a circular motion. Shouts of "what the hell!" "Hermione!" also Luna's "weeee!" Were echoed throughout the common room look a like as each person slammed into a couch or chair. "Ooh, that was fun do it again Mi!" "No Luna maybe later" a puppy dog face was her answer "ugh fine Luna!" she shot to the ceiling spinning and gliding in the air "Hey we want a try!" Soon six incredibly stupid people were twirling in the air "okay that's enough! Can we please read now?" Hermione basically got on her knees and begged her very convincing puppy dog face beat Luna's any day "Alright, alright granger drop the face!" "Goody!" she hopped up and down ran over to Luna snatched the book out of her newly discovered sisters hands and sat down in her favorite chair . She sighed the chair even had the same rips and tears, the common room smelled exactly like it did in Hogwarts sweat, cinnamon, and talc. "Okay well take turns reading who wants to start!" no one said anything the poor girl was practically bursting out of her fancy lace knickers… "No one? Alright, I'll go "she gleefully cackled and open the first page
"Preface"
I'd never given much thought to how I would die-(I thought about all the time" "harry!") though I'd had reason enough in the last few months- but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this ("that's for damn sure " "Ronald shut the hell up!") I stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and he looked pleasantly back at me.
Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved. Noble ("harry I swear to Merlin open your mouth I will cut off your disco stick!" harry's mouth snapped shut and a very ginny-ish giggly presented itself) even. That ought to count for something.
I knew that if I'd never gone to forks, I wouldn't be facing death right now but, terrified as I was, I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision. When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it's not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.
The hunter smiled in a friendly way ("ya," Ginny snorted as Hermione continued "I know the feeling bloody bellatrix") as he sauntered forward to kill me.
"First sight"
My mother drove me to the airport with windows rolled down ("what the hell is an airport?" "Ron your balls are mine" the twins who looked about to comment grabbed their gonads and scooted far away). It was seventy-five degrees in phoenix, the sky a perfect cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka. (Why the hell do her clothes matter?" "Ron?" "Yes gin?" "Shut the hell up!")
In the Olympic peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named forks (six snorts and one irritated sigh) exists under a near constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other in the untied states of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead. ("ungrateful bint" Hermione and Luna in unison)
It was to forks that I now exiled myself an action that I took with great horror ("I would too if I lived in a utensil "George stage whispered) I detested forks. I loved phoenix, I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city ("Hermione can we please go to this phoenix place" "no Luna" "humpf!")
"Bella," my mom said to me, the last of a thousand times before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this." My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike eyes (Hermione paused and glanced at Luna). How could I leave my loving, erratic, harebrained, mother to fend for herself? Of course she had Phil now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still…
"I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, ("hey! Hermione is a bad liar too!") But I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now.
"Tell Charlie I said hi."
"I will."
"I'll see you soon," she insisted."You can come home whenever you want-I'll come right back as soon as you need me." But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.
"Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, mom."
She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone. It's a four-hour flight from phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about. Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. ("Hermione?" "Yes Luna?" "Why does this Bella hate her dad so much?" "you know what little moon I have no idea.") He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.
But it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what you would call verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision- like my mother before me; I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for forks. When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen- just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun. Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is police chief swan ("what is a police chief?" "Ron it's like a muggle auror "Hermione explained "oh.") To the good people of forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car despite the scarcity of my funds ("we know what's that's like" muttered Ginny) was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop. Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way of the plane. "It's good to see you, bells" ("isn't it kind of weird that her name is Bella, I don't really dig that" Hermione said nauseously) he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. "You haven't changed much. How's Renée?" ('why is he so awkward I don't understand muggles she should be happy that her family is still alive!' 'Yes Luna we understand' 'no, no you don't Ronald your nargles are buzzing which means you want me to shut up! Don'tyou?' she accused. 'oooh burn ickle ronnikins' the twins "oohed" out 'oh Merlin's saggy left earlobe shut up!')
"Mom's fine. Its good to see you too, dad" I wasn't allowed to call him ('why call him Charlie anyway that's disrespectful you incompetent bint!" "Sheesh Hermione use your own orders and shut up" harry muttered) Charlie to his face. I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington. My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser. "I found a good car for you, really cheap" he announced when we strapped in "what kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good for you" as opposed to just "good car"
"Well it's a truck actually, a Chevy"
"Where did you find it?"
"Do you remember Billy black down at La Push?" la push is a tiny Indian reservation on the ('black? Is Sirius related to him?' 'I don't know Ron lets go into the underworld and ask him you asshole!')Coast.
"No."
"He used to go fishing with us during the summer" Charlie prompted.
That would explain why I didn't remember him. I do a good job of blocking painful, unnecessary things from my memory.
"He's in a wheelchair now," Charlie continued when I didn't respond, "so he can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap"
"What year is it?" I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he was hoping I wouldn't ask. ('I wouldn't want to ask you questions either stupid disrespectful whomperling) "Well Billy's done a lot of work on the engine- it's only a few years old, really" I hoped he didn't think so little of me as to believe I would give up that easily
"When did he buy it?"
"He bought it in 1984, I think."
"Did he buy it new?"
"Well no, I think it was new in the early sixties- or late fifties at the earliest," he admitted sheepishly.
"Ch- Dad I don't really know anything about cars. I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I couldn't afford a mechanic…. ("There she goes with that Charlie shite." Hermione sighed)
"Really Bella the thing runs great, they don't build them like that anymore."
The thing I thought to myself … it has possibilities as a nickname, (I have a nickname for you' George said) at the very least.
"How cheap is cheap?" after all that was the part I couldn't compromise on.
"Well honey I kind of already bought it for you, as a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression. ("awww" the girls gushed while the twins snickered and Ron and harry rolled their eyes)
Wow. Free. ("She needs to work on accepting things or she'll look snooty and bitchy like lavender" Luna announced ignoring Ron's furious look and Ginny's scoff)
"You didn't need to do that dad; I was going to buy myself a car."
"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He was looking ahead as he said this. Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him. So I was lo0king straight ahead as I responded. "That's really nice, dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that my being happy in forks is an impossibility. ("Ya you should suffer") He didn't need to suffer along with me. And I never looked a free truck in the mouth-or engine. "Well now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.
We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, (Hermione snorted) which was wet, and that was pretty much it for the conversation. We started out the windows in silence. It was beautiful of course; I couldn't deny that. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss. Their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves.
It was too green – an alien planet.
Eventually we made it to Charlie's he still lived in the small two bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had the early ones. There, parked on the street in front of the house that never changed, was my new- well new to me- truck. It was faded red with big, rounded fenders and bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it.(" huh," George stated, " I didn't know selfish shallow girls loved things other than their own vanity") I didn't know if it would run, but I could see myself in it. Plus it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged, the kind you see at the scene of the accident, paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed.
"Wow, dad, I love it! Thanks!" now my horrific day tomorrow would be just that much less dreadful. I wouldn't be faced with the choice of either walking two miles in the rain to school or accepting a ride in the chief's cruiser.
"I'm glad you like it." Charlie said gruffly, embarrassed again. It took only one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had been belonged to me ever since I was born. The wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellowed lace curtains around the window theses were all a part of my childhood. The only changes were Charlie ever made were switching the crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew. The desk now held a second hand computer, with the phone jack. This was a stipulation from my mother, so that we could stay in touch easily. ("I hate phones" Ron said "that's good Ron because phones hate you too")The rocking chair from my baby days was still in the corner.
There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, ("oh my morgana that's gross she has to share a bathroom EW" "huh Luna sweetheart?" "Yes mi?" "Are my nargles buzzing?" "Why yes, yes they are" "hmmm I wonder what that could mean "Ginny snarks) which I would have to share with Charlie. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact. One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover. ("Wait hover? Does that mean float? cause Hermione can do that," " no Luna you see what I can do is manipulated gravity and convert the energy that is used to hold us on earth and make it so I can literally rise above the ground." "so float you mean "ugh yes Ron float") He left me alone to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether impossible for my mother; it was nice to be alone. Not to have to smile ("not smile?" Luna asked aghast)
And look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the ("I remember malfoy doing that!") window at the
Fifty-seven — now fifty-eight — students; there were more than seven
Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and
Had grown up together — their grandparents had been toddlers together.
Hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All of the kids here
I would be the new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak. ("That's for damn sure" the twins muttered)
On a real crying jag. I would save that for bedtime, when I would have to
Sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape. I wasn't in the mood to go
Think about the coming morning.
Maybe, if I looked like a girl from Phoenix should, I could work this to my advantage. But physically, I'd never fit in anywhere. I should be tan,
Sporty, blond — ("whoa" Ron whistled "I want a sporty blond to") a volleyball player, or a cheerleader, perhaps — all the
Things, that go with living in the valley of the sun.
Instead, I was ivory-skinned, ("I'm ivory skinned to!" "Yes Ginny we can see that") without even the excuse of blue eyes or red
Hair, ( " the hell" Fred started " is she talking about" gred continued " we are very tan and muscular and " we have red hair " the wonder twins finished while everyone sighed and motioned for Hermione to continue)despite the constant sunshine.(" oooh is she a vampire?" "Ugh Luna can you please- wait harry did we read the back cover?" "Umm no we didn't, he stated nervously 'should we?" 'Ugh give me the book mi, umhum," "about three things I was absolutely positive. First Edward was a vampire-""whose Edward?" "Shut it Ron, second, there was a part of him and I didn't know how dominant that might be that thirsted for my blood and third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him." "Aw!")I had always been slender, but soft
Somehow, obviously not an athlete; I didn't have the necessary hand-eye
Coordination to play sports without humiliating myself — and harming both (snickers all around) myself and anyone else who stood too close. When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom necessities and went to the communal bathroom to clean myself up after the day of travel. I looked at my face in the mirror as I Brushed through my tangled, damp hair. Maybe it was the light, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be pretty — it was Very clear, almost translucent-looking — but it all depended on color. I
Had no color here. Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I
Was lying to myself. It wasn't just physically that I'd never fit in. And if I couldn't find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here? I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never on exactly the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain. But the cause didn't matter. All that mattered was the effect. And tomorrow would be just the beginning. I didn't sleep well that night, even after I was done crying. (" She cries a lot" Ron semi whispered to a nodding harry") The constant whooshing of the rain and wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background. I pulled the faded old quilt over my head, and later added the pillow, too. But I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight, when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle. Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning, and I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. You could never see the sky h ere; it was like a cage. Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He wished me good luck at school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. ("Wow he must not like you, nope not all." Fred whistled) After he left, I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three unlatching chairs and examined his small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets,(" oh ugh Luna when we get back we are so repainting your room") and white linoleum floor. Nothing was changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by the procession of my school pictures up to last year's. Those were embarrassing to look at — I would have to see what I could do to get Charlie to put them some where at least while I was
Living here.
It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had
Never gotten over my mom. ("umm maybe because he loved her you stupid bloody twit I mean honestly does she know nothing!") It made me uncomfortable.
I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house
anymore. I donned my jacket — which had the feel of a biohazard suit —
and headed out into the rain.
It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as
I reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the
door, and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was
Unnerving. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I couldn't
Pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out
Of the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair under my hood.
Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had
Obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled
Faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint.(" I like the smell of peppermint" Luna sighed) The engine started quickly,
to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume.
Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio
worked, a plus that I hadn't expected.
Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before.
The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not
obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the
Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching
houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. ("aha loser my school is a giant castle suck on that!" "Thank you Ronald for that lovely piece of information") There were so many trees and
Shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. Where was the feel of the
Institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain-link fences?
The metal detectors?
I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the
Door reading front office. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it
Was off limits ("wait so she completely disregarded the rules, and parked there anyways?" "this chit is kind of cool gred don't cha think?"), but I decided I would get directions inside instead of
Circling around in the rain like an idiot. ("Hmm" "shut it herms") I stepped unwillingly out of
The toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark
hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door.
Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was
small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked
commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock
ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there
wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long
counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored
Flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one
Of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. ("okay wait, a person with the name black, a large no offense red headed lady and a Bella. " "that's some freaky shit" Ron exclaimed) She was
Wearing a purple t-shirt, this immediately made me feel overdressed.
The red-haired woman looked up. "Can I help you?"
"I'm Isabella Swan," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness
light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of
the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last.
"Of course," she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of
documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I
have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought
several sheets to the counter to show roe.
She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each
on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to
bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like
Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as
convincingly as I could.(" which must have sucked" Ginny stated)
When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive.
I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to
see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home
I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included
in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new
Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. ("Those are some weird car names, muggles mental they are") The nicest car here was a shiny
Volvo and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a
spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me.
I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now; hopefully I
Wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I
stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and
sucked in a huge breath. I can do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one
was going to bite me. I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck.
I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk,
crowded with teenagers. My plain black jacket didn't stand out, I noticed
with relief.
Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A large black "3" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my
breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the
door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats
through the door.
The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside
the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them.
They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde, the other also pale,
with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn't be a standout here.
I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a
nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my
name — not an encouraging response — and of course I flushed tomato red. ("Haha Ginny that sounds like you." "No its doesn't!" "um yes it does remember that one time herbology when you sniffed the belladonna and-" " ugh Ginny please remove your hand from Luna mouth before she bites you again")
But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing
me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in
the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading
list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare,
Chaucer, Faulkner. ("Hey those are wizard name what the hell!") I'd already read everything. That was comforting… and
boring. I wondered if my mom would send me my folder of old essays, or if
she would think that was cheating. I went through different arguments
with her in my head while the teacher droned on.
When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin
problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk
to me.
"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful,
chess club type. ("lee Jordan!" seven voices spontaneously shouted out)
"Bella," I corrected. ("Oh eh gross no go by your full name please." "I have a feeling that's not going to happen Hermione" harry said sympathetically rubbing her back) everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look
at me.
"Where's your next class?" he asked.
I had to check in my bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building
Six."("Wait Americans take government" Hermione perked up "wicked" "hey that's my word Hermione!" "Sorry Ron I forgot you only get so many catch phrases")
There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes.
"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way…" Definitely
Over-helpful. "I'm Eric," he added.
I smiled tentatively. "Thanks."
We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I
could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to
eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid.
"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?" he asked.
"Very."
"It doesn't rain much there, does it?"
"Three or four times a year."
"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered.
"Sunny," I told him.
"You don't look very tan."
"My mother is part albino."("Huh" Ginny mouthed)
He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds
and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how
to use sarcasm. ("oh no George, that would suck so much!" Fred squealed)
We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym.
Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.
"Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful.
I smiled at him vaguely and went inside.
The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry
teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the
subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the
class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own
boots on the way to my seat.
After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each
class. There was always someone braver than the others who would
introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I
tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot. At least I never
needed the map.
One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me
to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my
five feet four inches, ("Hermione" six voices smugly pointed out "humpf I am not that short" she said indignantly) but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of
the difference between our heights. I couldn't remember her name, so I
smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes. I didn't
try to keep up.
We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she
introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them.
They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The boy from
English, Eric, waved at me from across the room.
It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with
seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.
They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where
I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't
talking and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of
untouched food in front of them. ("What!" Ron shouted "bloody hell how can some one not eat!") They weren't gawking at me, unlike most
of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of
meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these
things that caught, and held, my attention.
They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big — muscled
like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller,
leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less
bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the
others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here
rather than students.
The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a
beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated
Swimsuit issue,(the twins snickered as Ron and harry blushed at the images being painted in their heads) the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on
her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden,
gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixie like, (" Hermione you kind of look like a pixie in fact I'm sure there is a Granger tribe of pixies in Sweden" Luna informed)
thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black,
cropped short and pointing in every direction.
And yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale,
the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. Paler than
me, the albino. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair
tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes — purplish, bruise like
shadows. ("oh shit!" shouted the troublesome seven "there vampires!" so surprised by this they over looked there weird unison speaking) As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost
done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their
features, were straight, perfect, angular.
But all this is not why I couldn't look away.
I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all
devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. ("hmm that's weird it's really weird" Luna muttered something was cooking up in that ravens mind and Hermione was beyond suspicious)They were faces you never expected to
see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or
painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide
who was the most beautiful — maybe the perfect blond girl, or the
bronze-haired boy.
They were all looking away — away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I
Watched, the small girl rose with her tray — unopened soda, unbitten
apple — and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a
runway. ("Luna" everyone including Luna muttered) I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer's step, till she dumped her
tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought
possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging.
"Who are they?" I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I'd
forgotten.
As she looked up to see who I meant — though already knowing, probably,
from my tone — suddenly he looked at her, the thinner one, the boyish
one, the youngest, perhaps. ("I doubt that he's probably the oldest" Hermione said)He looked at my neighbor for just a fraction
of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine.
He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of
embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance,
his face held nothing of interest — it was as if she had called his name,
and he'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to
answer.
My neighbor giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did.
"That's Edward ("oh shit they is about to get together!" "Ginny never say or do that again") and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. ("jaspers a hot name" Hermione whispered to Luna while Luna nodded agreeing) The one
who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his
wife." She said this under her breath.
I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now,
picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving
very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three still
looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them.
Strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kinds of names grandparents had.
But maybe that was in vogue here — small town names? I finally remembered
that my neighbor was called Jessica, a perfectly common name. There were
two girls named Jessica in my History class back home.
"They are… very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous
understatement.
"Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "They're all together though —
Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live
together." Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small
town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit
that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip.
"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related…"
"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early
thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins —
the blondes — and they're foster children."
"They look a little old for foster children."
"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been
with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something
like that."
"That's really kind of nice — for them to take care of all those kids
like that, when they're so young and everything."
"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that
she didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. With the glances
she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason
was jealousy. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though," she
added, as if that lessened their kindness. ("Huh she actually said something nice and thoughtful it warms the cackles of my heart Fred" George sang fluttering his eyelashes)
Throughout all this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to
the table where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the
walls and not eat.(" um there not really inconspicuous" harry said thinking if vampires have laws to)
"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my summers here.
"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a
new arrival like me.("bitch,")"They just moved down two years ago from somewhere
in Alaska."
I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they
were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that I wasn't the
only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any
standard.
As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullen's, looked up and met
my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked
swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet
expectation.
"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at
him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not
gawking like the other students had today — he had a slightly frustrated
expression. I looked down again.
"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He
doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough
for him." She sniffed a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd
turned her down. ("A round of laughter some like the twins going over board as to fall from their seats clutching there stomachs)
I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was
turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were
smiling, too.
After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They
all were noticeably graceful — even the big, brawny one. It was
unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again.
I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have
if I'd been sitting alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my
first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me
that her name was Angela, had Biology II with me the next hour. We walked
to class together in silence. She was shy, too.
When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab
table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In
fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I
recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single
open seat.
As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my
slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I passed, he
suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes
with the strangest expression on his face — it was hostile, furious. I
looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I stumbled over a book in ("oooh "the girls winced "wait what, what are you oohing about?" "Ron obviously he wants her and not in that way you perv wipe the drool of your mouth" Ginny said as she smacked the back of his head "her blood" Luna clarified looking serious for some reason)
the walkway and had to catch myself on the edge of a table. The girl
sitting there giggled.
I'd noticed that his eyes were black — coal black.
Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about
introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had
no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room.
I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by him, bewildered by the
antagonistic stare he'd given me.
I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I
saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away
from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face
like he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It
Smelled like strawberries, ("ugh now I need new shampoo" Hermione complained
"what happened to shutting up" harry wondered out aloud being rewarded by a swift kick in the shins "ow!" he screamed "Hermione really!" all Hermione did in return was offer him a sweet smile and continued reading) the scent of my favorite shampoo. It seemed an Innocent enough odor. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.
Unfortunately the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I'd already
studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down. I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my Hair at the strange boy next to me. During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from
me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a
fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never
relaxed. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his
elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his
light skin. ("Silly, silly girl already falling for a beast that will suck you dry" Hermione muttered "not, a word George!" Hermione had a hidden talent of knowing when the boys little perverted minds would take control) He wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly
brother.
The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the
day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for his tight
fist to loosen? It never did; he continued to sit so still it looked like
he wasn't breathing. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal
behavior? I questioned my judgment on Jessica's bitterness at lunch
today. Maybe she was not as resentful as I'd thought. ("or he could just be a powerful predator who wants to viciously rip you apart and guzzle down your blood or not" Ginny swiftly added seeing the horrified look on her boyfriends face)
It couldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't know me from Eve.
I peeked up at him one more time, and regretted it. He was glaring down
at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from
him, shrinking against my chair, the phrase if looks could kill suddenly
ran through my mind. ("oh trust me they can" harry said to Fred shooting Hermione a cautious glance that she ignored)
At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen
was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose — he was much taller than I'd
thought — his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was
out of their seat.
I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It
wasn't fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the
anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my
temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. ("oh gosh that sucks I would cry all the time if it was me, harry and Ron get me so angry" Hermione told Luna casually ignoring Ron and harry's sputtering)I usually cried when I was angry,
a humiliating tendency.
"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" a male voice asked.
I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully
gelled into orderly spikes, (" Neville!" Luna shouted) smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously
didn't think I smelled bad.
"Bella," I corrected him, with a smile.
"I'm Mike."
"Hi, Mike."
"Do you need any help finding your next class?"
"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."
"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that
big of a coincidence in a school this small.
We walked to class together; he was a chatterer — he supplied most of the
conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he
was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my
English class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today.
But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Edward
Cullen with a pencil or what?( Ginny cackled) I've never seen him act like that."
I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently,
that wasn't Edward Cullen's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb.
"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked artlessly.
"Yes," he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."
"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him.""He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the
dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked
to you."
I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He
was friendly and clearly admiring. But it wasn't enough to ease my
irritation.
The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress
down for today's class. At home, only two years of RE. were required.
Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal
hell on Earth.
I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how
many injuries I had sustained — and inflicted — playing volleyball, I
felt faintly nauseated.
The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my
paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and
colder. I wrapped my arms around myself.
When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked
back out.
Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that
tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance.
I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be
free.
He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up
the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology
to another time — any other time.
I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something
else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look
on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was
impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike
to me.
The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the
room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face.
The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the
wire basket, and walked out again. But Edward Cullen's back stiffened,
and he turned slowly to glare at me — his face was absurdly handsome —
with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of
genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second,
but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the
receptionist.
"Never mind, then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see
that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And he turned on
his heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.
I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and
handed her the signed slip.
"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally.
"Fine," I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced.
When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed
like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green
hole. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly.
But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and
the engine roared to life. I headed back to Charlie's house, fighting
tears the whole way there.
A/N; look in know I should be finishing my story but this was just swarming trough my head