20/01/2010 18:58:00

"Mom, I have to go, I'm going to be late!" I repeated for the 3rd time as I made an attempt to manuver out of my mother's grasp. "Do you have everything? Your lunch bag? Your new school books? Your cell phone?" She asked hurriedly as she fussed with my hair. "Yes mom, I packed everything last night." "Good, good. Well off you go sweety, don't dilly dally!" "Bye mom," "Bye Bella, I love you! Have fun!" I grabbed my backpack and shut the door behind me.

As I hopped on my bicycle, I looked east at the ocean waves crashing against the shore. The sun had been out for nearly an hour already, but it was still so quiet. So peaceful. Then reality hit, and a wave of anxiety washed over me. It was the first day of school. Of high school. I closed my eyes and breathed in deep. It will be over in 7 hours and 20 minutes. Maybe it won't be that bad, I thought. Just then a few boys my age shot right past me on their bikes, honking their horns and shouting "Watch out!" and "Could you pedal any slower?" Once they were ahead of me, one of them silenced the others and looked back at me for a quick second. I recognized him, he was Mike Newton. His dad owned the popular ice cream shop downtown. "What the hell you guys, that's Bella!" "Oh shit", one of the other boys winced and looked back at me, confirming my identity. Mike slowed down to catch up to me. He had a crew cut and pale blue eyes. "Sorry Bella, I didn't know that was you, hope you had a nice summer!" He smiled an apologetic grin and pedaled away as the other boys trailing behind him, until they were out of sight. I sighed. "This year's going to suck," I mumbled and started up the hill defeat.

As I rode up to the back rack in the front of the school, I realized I was making a scene. Everyone was eyeing me and looking away hurriedly when I caught them. The hallway wasn't much better, and I kept my head low and tried as well as I could to be invisible. I entered my home room and took a seat in the middle of the room, staring at the clock. The ticks were getting louder and louder, and suddenly the bell rang. I looked around the room. There were four empty seats surrounding me, and everyone else was huddled together in spare chairs and talking in whispers. Mrs. Fowler adjusted her reading glasses and began taking attendance.

Suddenly, the door opened and a boy walked in. He was new. He had chocolate side swept bangs that floated around his tan face, and he was awfully sure of himself the way he looked around the room and grinned at the faces staring at him. I tightened my ponytail. I guess he was kind of cute, but boys were the least of my problems. I didn't have time to get lost in their eyes and doodle their names in cursive in my diary. I didn't have time for anybody actually, I recently decided it was best to focus on my grades and keep social worries out of my life.

"You're late," Mrs. Fowler remarked flatly in his direction. "Take a seat." "Yes ma'am," he grinned again. He had a nice smile, the way his lips parted and his teeth glistened. It made his eyes sparkle, I noticed. "He looked around the room for an empty seat, then saw me and grinned again. What was up with this guy? I thought. He walked over and slid right next to me, pushing his packpack under the desk in one swift movement.

"Alright now," Mrs. Fowler didn't like to be interupted, I guessed, based on the tone of her voice. "She took out a checklist and began reading off names. "Bounty, Isabella?" "Here", I called bleakly, half expecting the giggling and smirking of my last name, Bounty. Bounty like the brand of toilet paper. I had been referred to as 'Toilet Paper Girl' since second grade. But no one laughed as much as a giggle. Everyone has ignored me since my dad died in a boating accident earlier this year in March. No one talked to me after that, except my best friends May and Jessica, who tried to help me through it. But even though friends were what I needed most, I didn't want to spend time with them. I was in a state of shock, and spent most of my time alone, sitting on the dock and staring at the ocean, wondering how something so beautiful could be so cruel.

I looked over at smiling boy and for once he wasn't grinning. He was observing me, with great curiousity. He knew I wasn't like everyone else. The way I kept my ponytail too tight, the way I scraped at my nail polish, the way I avoided eye contact. "Cullen, Edward?" "Here," he took his questioning eyes off of me and raised his hand slightly, grinning again. He had a few problems of his own, I noticed. I questioned him the way he questioned me, but his past would be harder to answer than mine.