1: Angels & Demons

I looked up at my mother, wanting reassurance. She glanced down at me, and gave me a positive smile, but I could feel the nerves radiating off her.

'His flight should have landed five minutes ago,' she said, after glimpsing at her watch. I rolled my eyes – my mother was outrageously excited about him.

Personally, though, I didn't see what the big fuss was. So, he was from America. So, he lived in Beverly Hills. What did that matter here in Australia? What would it matter at the country high school he would be attending with me?

It wouldn't. I'd seen enough movies, and enough episodes of Gossip Girl to know that he would be no Romeo. He would be a geek, social outcast, computer nerd, a hermit; I don't know why my mother was letting him intrude in our lives for an entire year.

He was just another guy in the international exchange program, and horribly enough, my own mother had made sure that we were just another family in the program.

My mum, Esme, is ridiculously maternal, so, of course, she jumped at the opportunity to have an international exchange student in our home.

I remember when my eldest brother, Emmett, had left home to go to Uni in Melbourne last year: she had cried for hours, and that was just before he left. She was sad for ages, and Emmett had to call three times a day at first for her to calm down and get back to her usual, pro-active self. Not even the fact that he would only be an hour and a half long drive away could console her. She was at all costs trying to avoid any thoughts about Jasper, my other brother, joining Emmett next year.

'Hold up the sign, Bella,' she said, dragging me out of my thoughts. I groaned.

'Mum, I'm not holding up this sign. I'm going to look like an idiot. Anyway, don't they only do this in movies? He'll know who we are. He's probably Googled us all a hundred times. Can't you at least hold it?' I said, so tired of this guy already.

She sighed, but otherwise ignored me, trying to see above the hundreds of other heads swarming around Tullamarine airport. I dramatically shifted my weight to my other leg with a big huff, and reluctantly held up the oversized cardboard sign, reading, "EDWARD MASEN"

I was so embarrassed. I couldn't see any other signs like ours. Two minutes later, it was announced over the inter-com-thing that his flight was just de-boarding. I thought back to last night, my concentration slipping from the present…

"Bella, hon, don't do this babe,' Mike had said drunkenly. Someone had obviously spiked the punch.

"No, Mike," I'd told him. "It's over." I was, at this point, one of the few sober people here at Rosie's party.

"Bells, babe…" he whined, trying in vain to get me to stop, even though we both knew it had been coming for weeks. He staggered over to me, his intoxicated state making him stumble and trip onto me.

I'd pushed him off, and said, "Mike, you idiot. You're blind drunk. And I can't go on with this. It's over. We're over." And turned away.

All my relationships with guys turned out like that. We'd be inseparable in the first few weeks, but then, as time went on, we'd grow apart, and sometimes almost get sick of each other. It went on like that for a few weeks, until one of us was actually bothered to end it. So, after the whole Mike thing, I was sick and tired of it, and knew I wouldn't let myself go through that kind of crap again.

Later, after the party, the five of us, Rosalie, Alice, Angela, Jess and I, held one of our not-so-annual, cheesy meetings. We tell everything to each other at the gatherings. Loves, lies, truths, families, everything. So, I talked about the boyfriend thing. At the end, when we all made a promise we had to keep until the next meeting, I'd said, 'I promise I will not get involved in anyone for the thrill, or for the kicks, and I will, of course, seek permission from my fellow 'sisters' if am to date any boy, and will not take it too far without discussing it with them first. Happy?' It had been just about the most formal thing I'd ever said in one of the meetings (I don't take them very seriously), so every one, after a moment of quiet, we all burst out in hysteric fits of giggles. After that, I continued to talk about this Edward guy, and the creep he was certain to be. Soon enough, sleep had swallowed us all up…

"Oh!" my mother squeaked, piercing through my train of thought, after I'd unconsciously dropped the heavy cardboard sign on her high-heeled toes. You always need to make a good first impression, Bella, and I don't want mine to be dwarfish, my mother had told me, after I'd questioned the lengthy shoe. This was ridiculous, because my mother was abnormally tall for someone in her family. It was a trait that seemed to have skipped my mother and get passed straight down to me: I was a mere 163 cms tall.

I bent to pick up the sign, and, just as I did, I heard a heavily-accented voice, just above my head, talking to my mother.

'I'm sorry, Miss, but was that sign you were holding up for Edward Masen?'

I was still crouching, so I slowly stood up, and, for the first ever time, saw the face of our gorgeous exchange student. I didn't trust myself to speak, so, while still ogling at his shockingly exquisite features, I mumbled a weak, 'Mm-hm,' in confirmation, slightly raising the sign, trying to draw his attention to it, as to prove to him he was coming home with us.

He smiled at me, not showing any teeth, seemed to take me in. I wondered what he was thinking. Probably something along the lines of, I hope they're meant to have a different Edward Masen, or, I hope my name isn't actually Edward Masen – would it be rude to check my ID to make sure?

'Are you Edward, dear?' my mother asked, making us both look up at her.

'Yes, ma'am, I am.' My mother flushed slightly at the formal language he used to address her, and looked him up and down, before clearing her throat.

'Well, Bella, I think we have the right one. Edward, darling, my name is Esme, and this is Isabella. We l-'

'Just, Bella,' I told him, interrupting my mother's spiel.

'Yes, Bella, as a nickname, she prefers. Anyway, we live in Bendigo, around an hour and a half from here, so we'll be home in no-time.'

We reached the veranda at Tulla, and I remembered just where my mother had parked her metallic-gray Peugeot. 'Mum, you parked the car in Avalon.' She looked at me for a second, fluttering her eyes in two blinks, then took at long glance at Edward's extensive luggage.

'Oh, hm, okay. Edward, I'm going to go and get the car. It's a long way away – you know how parking is during the holidays. So, if it's okay with you, you and Bella will stay here, and I'll collect you very soon.'

Edward nodded in consent, and Mum motioned for me to join her, a couple of metres away, where a hushed conversation would be concealed from Edward's perfectly shaped ears.

Pausing every few seconds to make sure Edward hadn't been swallowed up by the busy world of impatient commuters at Tullamarine, she told me, 'Be nice to him…Bells. Imagine how he's …feeling right now. The last thing he needs…is to feel unwelcome. Talk about school, or…something. Offer to take a bag. Okay?'

'Sure Mum. But if I found out he's been Googling us, we're putting him on the next plane back.'

She rolled her eyes, tired of this worn-out instruction, then went back to Edward, with me trailing her.

'I'll be back soon. Don't move.' She left us, expertly weaving her way through the crowds.

I stood next to Edward, in silence, not making much effort in thinking of a conversation starter, but also not oblivious of his close presence. You will hold you your ground. You will not like him. Although, I couldn't ignore the fact that my eyes were continuously wandering to his face, seemingly without any conscious instruction from me, at regular intervals of less than twenty seconds. Ugh, come on! You're hopeless at this. HOLD YOUR GROUND!!! He's just going to be an asshole anyway! As if he'll have time for a little brunette Aussie kid. And yet, I found myself trying to ignore the fact that these thoughts seemed force, unnatural, as much as I tried to ignore their cause.

It was Edward that broke the silence. 'I'm sorry, but I didn't seem to properly introduce myself before. I'm Edward Cullen, I'm sixteen. Just.' He flashed a smile that was more gorgeous than any other, but not because of his blindingly perfect teeth, nor the fullness of his lips. He had normal teeth, and slim lips, and his front left tooth was slightly crooked and minutely chipped. And that combination, plus the fact his grin was lopsided, endearingly so, made my pulse speed and my heart flutter.

Ridiculous. You're pathetic. There's this thing, restraint. It could come in handy for you. STOP wondering if it would be okay to try to batter your eyelashes. It's not going to happen – not in a million years. Yeah, gentlemanly enough on the surface, but, Beverly Hills, Bells. He'll have broken your heart in a week, and then what? Avoid him for the rest of the year? Not likely…

I shoved aside my nagging inner voice, wondering where the 'reassuring, good-willed angel' was – it seemed like the only invisible creature perched on my shoulder was a nagging demon. But, I took its advice, and forcefully removed all questionable thoughts of Edward and me from my mind, and felt a strange twinge of approval.

I then realized Edward was waiting for an answer. 'Bella,' I said, flushing. 'I'm fifteen – sixteen in October, so still a while.' He smiled again. I refused to let myself notice any new, engaging quirks to it. I was not allowed to be too observant, or it would eventually reach the worst.

'Um, what's Avalon?' he asked me, his brows creased. My head gave me a small but stern warning. Don't even look at his eyebrows; you'll probably faint.

I also realized that he would, of course, have absolutely no idea what I was referring to when I said Avalon. 'Oh, it's the other, tiny, airport here in Melbourne. It mostly just does domestic flights, but it's on the other side of the city, probably closer to Geelong than here, so…' I trailed, acknowledging that he would have no idea what Geelong was, let alone where it was comparatively to here, if one was trying to get to Avalon. 'Anyway, the car's that far away, I thought, well, not literally, but…' I shrugged, thankful it was a gesture that wouldn't let me ramble on.

'Yeah, no, I get it. It's good.' Nice, Bells. At least you don't have to worry about him liking you now. The angel seemed to have returned, but, during its absence, was converted into a devil. One of my shoulders suddenly felt a lot heavier than the other, as if it was carrying the others' load.

Another smile. This was going to be hard work. We stood in silence, until my mother returned, chattily, ten minutes later. She loaded Edward's gear into the boot, then, as I was getting into the passenger seat, dumped her heavy, large bag there, along with some shopping she'd removed from the boot to make room for the bags. She gave me a meaningful look, a you sit in the back with our guest, because it's polite, and because I said so look. I groaned under my breath, and hauled myself into the back seat, next to our devastatingly beautiful company. I sighed. An entire year.