Title: My Beautiful Stalker

Last night I dreamt I was with Rosalie Lillian Hale again.

This is the third night this week that my brain has focused on her for the entirety of my slumber.

I want it to stop. I don't want it to stop. I care to know why. I don't care to know why.

I crave her touch. I... really crave her touch.

I need a cure for this desire.

Rosalie is the most popular person at Forks High School, and I don't say this to be stereotypical. Her looks have the type of features that the girls at school would pay thousands of dollars for in hopeless surgeries, and her skill at mechanical work has the guys at school hovering around her like love-struck pups. In either case there isn't anyone who can match up to her level of beauty and talent. I suppose it also doesn't hurt that she has enough money to buy her own home on the wealthier side of the neighborhood.

None of these are the reasons my shy heart stutters for her though.

While everyone else whispers about her refined features and gifted handiness, my admiration stems from the fact that she doesn't seem to have any real friends. A strange thing to admire, I know. However, it's the truth. She and I seem to share an affinity when it comes to this lack of bonds, and I have a high regard for her as a result.

To see the most well-known girl pass though life without a single trusted person holds a tale of hope for those of us whose lives have been trailed by disappointments of insincere people and their dishonest actions.

The school library is as quiet as an abandoned cemetery, like always. No surprise. Students don't come in to read books for pleasure, only for research...sometimes. That's their problem though. Their lost, my gain. Book lovers like me prefer the heavy silence in this structured sanctuary, alone and at peace with novels.

Relaxed, I'm sitting in my favorite corner with a faded book held between my hands. The American and British classics are the best at feeding my appetite for an escape into my imagination. Life is, for a lack of better words, a bitch at the moment... and I have no interest in returning back to reality. Can you blame me?

My breath drifts out in a lingering sigh. "Just one more year, and you'll be free to leave this small, dull, close-minded town." One more year...

Junior year is almost at an end, meaning that all I need to do is make it through senior year. Once I do, I'm going to head to the most liberal and open-minded university in the country. I'm not sure where that college is, probably somewhere in California, but I'm going to move there regardless. The need to get away and be able to fully express my true self is too strong to ignore. Maybe I'll finally meet a girl who'll turn my life around in the process with just a gorgeous smile. I wonder what she'll look like or be like... funny, kind, generous... beautiful, inside and out... with vivid eyes that sets me aflame by a quick glance.

"Excuse me? Could you possibly help me find this book I need?"

Startling awake from my daydream, I look away from the book still clasped in my hands. Instantly, tension springs up in my spine like a coiled spring ready to burst. No way. Impossible. Is this really happening? How? Why?

Rosalie Hale stands in front of me, towering really, like the Greek goddess Aphrodite. You know, if the goddess wore a mini-skirt. She blinks and raises an eyebrow, an unsure expression slowly creeping up onto her face. "Or... not?"

It takes me a moment to realize that she had asked something of me. Feeling blood rush up my neck in a blush, I give an apologetic cough. "Um, sorry about that. I, uh, was in a bit of a daydream. Wha-what did you need again?" Nice work there on the zero stutters, dummy.

"Well," she says, looking around at the many bookshelves. "I was wondering if you could help me find a specific book that I'm looking for. I know you don't work here, but I've seen you come in here a lot so I figured-" She stops herself mid-sentence as her composed face takes on a more embarrassed look. "That made me sound like a stalker, didn't it?"

She notices me? And actually knows about me? Holy...wow.

"Yeah, but I don't mind if you do it." Welp... Way to dig your own grave, Swan. Want to jump in it too?

Shocked at my bold response, Rosalie snorts before bursting out in a melody of giggles. The sweet sounds rapidly send my heart tingling. Exposing her vibrant white teeth for a split second, she covers her mouth behind a slender hand and shakes her head until the giggles gradually fade away. There's brightness to her eyes now, a glow that emphasizes the lovely cerulean of her irises. The things I would do to always see that glow is... endless.

She soon states under her breath, "That was one of the best replies I've ever heard. Thanks for that."

Knowing that I was the cause of such an important moment pleases me more than she could ever know.

A smile stuck permanently on my lips, I chuckle in a mixture of relief and joy. "Anytime. I'm happy to be of service. Oh, by the way, my name is Isabella, but most people just call me Bella." Or Bella the Bookworm and Lesbella, depending on who you ask...

Rosalie holds her hand out, giving me a good-natured grin in return. "Rosalie, but you can call me Rose. Sounds good?"

"Definitely," I answer with an eager nod. At the same time, my hand reaches for her extended one and grabs it; almost immediately I feel the hard calluses from her manual labor alongside the soft skin of her natural splendor. It might be my hormones and adrenaline rushing, but I swear I feel sparks run up my arm in a flash like lightning.

Overwhelmed, a sweeping desire to kiss the back of her hand with complete reverence echoes encouragement in the back of my mind. However, I know doing so would most likely just scare her away and get me labeled as a "freak" by the one person in this world whose opinions I do care about.

A cowardly move then.

Quickly shaking her hand, I soon let it go in reluctance. "Let's go find that book for you then, 'kay?"