It has been a long time since I have posted anything. Long story short, we all experience tragedies and need time to recover. I really enjoy writing, and hope to be able to finish my last story as well as this one. Please review!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I do not own any songs in this story.

Chapter 1

Clouds clustered the sky, acting like a shield against the sun. Humidity reeked through the air, and slow raindrops began to fall. The water drops hit the pavement harder and harder as I fastened my pace to Forks High School. I brought my bag over my head, cursing at the weather under my breath.

As I walked to school, I thought about the move to Forks. It was uneventful in itself, but I still wasn't complete satisfied with moving here. Phoenix was my home – where I grew up; and the weather was definitely better than Forks. It was my decision to move here, though – to give my mother more space with her soon-to-be husband, was the best decision at the time; this way, Charlie and I could also get to know each other better. We barely had a daughter-father relationship – or any relationship for that matter – and I knew it could not have been easy for him.

While I preferred the Phoenix weather, my mother was at least right about one thing. The population and size of Forks was incredibly small, which suited me much better. The big city had never really suited my shy, quiet personality. While students were always gossiping among themselves during class, I just sat there, to myself, and read classical books over and over again. I wish that I could see the appeal in the teenage society life. I wish I could have fit in, like my mother always wanted me to.

I laughed bitterly as I recalled once how Renee told me that I needed to "stop hiding my figure" and "wear more make-up." She told me, repeatedly, that my brunette hair was plain. My eyes were a plain brown, yet very deep. My figure was slender and proportionate. Renee told me, in the nicest way possible, that I was a plain Jane. She also told me that that's not necessarily a bad thing to be, which I was perfectly fine with.

What my mother didn't know was that I was actually confessed to quite a bit. I remember how a boy came to me one day, in my freshmen year. I didn't even know his name, or that he had even existed before that moment. He had looked so nervous, wringing his hands together, as he quietly asked me to the Halloween dance that year.

The heavy rain snapped me out of my thoughts as it began to pour even more. I strained my legs to move faster, and began to run on the sidewalk through the rain.

My eyes bore into the school as I ran to it, desperately trying to rid the butterflies from my stomach, as I saw that it was bigger than I expected. I wondered if I could make friends here, but I didn't get my hopes up as I recognized that most teenagers aren't interested in discussing Wuthering Heights. Maybe then, when my mother called to check up on me, I might have something interesting to talk about.

By the time I reached the high school, I was soaked in rain. The raindrops didn't let up, even as I passed through the parking lot, trying to avoid all the stares that bore into me, and into the first door I saw.

Catching my breath, I wiped my wet shoes off on the rug. I didn't need to have an accident on my first day. I was clumsy, but I didn't need to fall down to know that. Cursing under my breath, I noticed how wet my pant-legs and navy blouse were. I shook my legs off lightly, and wiped my arms off with my hands.

Like that would help. I should've brought an umbrella, or asked Charlie to get the truck from Billy before I arrived in Forks. I just didn't think it'd rain this much on my first day here.

As I walked, trying to find the administration offices, I noticed how small the school hallways were. The tan walls were covered in brown student lockers, which were decorated excessively with flyers and students' personal items. Students filled the halls, chatting away. I began to notice how they all kept staring at me, as if I were some wild animal they've never seen before. As soon as I looked up, they all looked away, embarrassed, and continued to gossip amongst themselves. Repeatedly, I heard my name and new girl thrown around in their conversations. I guess this town really was that small.

I rolled my eyes and bit my bottom lip gently, worrying it in between my teeth. I focused my eyes to the floor, but kept my head up. My mother had always told me that looking down meant you lacked confidence; somehow, I grew to believe this as well, but I couldn't help but to keep my eyes down as the other students' eyes studied me.

For the most part, I kept my eyes down, trained on the white tiled floors. Only as I passed a door would I look up to check if it was the administration offices.

My path was suddenly blocked by someone. I sighed as I saw their faded tennis shoes, and looked up slowly to face my path-blocker.

There was an Asian boy with suble acne and chin hair in my way. I forced a strained grin at him, and opened my mouth to mutter a hello, but was interrupted by him before I had the chance.

"Hi, the name's Eric Yorkie. You look lost, so you're probably the new girl, Isabella Swan. Am I right?" His voice came out squeaky at first, but evened out as he finished questioning me.

I nodded at him, and then spoke softly, "Uh, yeah. Just call me Bella, please. Is it that obvious that I'm lost?"

Eric began to talk excitedly, telling me all about how he was sort-of like the student body president, and how excited he was to finally meet me. We began to walk forward, down the hallway, where the administration offices were located. As he droned on and on about the school, I zoned him out eventually, but I made sure to keep nodding and smiling occasionally.

Eventually, I noticed how empty the halls were, and frowned slightly as the bell rang. I was going to be late on my first day of school, but it didn't even seem to bother Eric as he chatted away. Maybe it was something I could get away with on my first day.

Suddenly, my shoulder was bumped into roughly, and I fell onto the ground. Eric asked me repetitively if I was alright. He stood to my right, and offered me a hand. I looked up in front of me with wide eyes in surprise. A pale, masculine hand was stretched out toward me. My eyes traveled up the hand, to the lightly brown-colored hairy, pale arm, to his lean yet muscular neck, and finally, to his face.

My eyes darted across his face rapidly as I tried to take in as much as possible. I wanted to memorize his face, for fear if I never saw him again, before I reached his hand completely and he disappeared forever.

His face was so handsome…and even dazzling. His skin was a clear, pale color, matching his hand. He had high, profound cheek bones. His lips were a light shade of blue, which confused me to no end, and they were pressed tightly together They looked so tempting as he began to speak. His jaw was rigid and came straight down. His messy hair stuck in all different directions, and was an odd yet stunning copper-color. Then, I began to stare into his eyes; his wide, sparkling, emerald eyes.

Unbelievably, my heartbeat pounded harder and harder against my chest, as if it desired to jump out of my chest at the man before me. Nothing had ever made my heart beat this wild. I became even more embarrassed as a slow heat came up my neck to cover my entire face. Uncomfortably, I realized I stared incredibly too long at this man in front of me.

Blushing, I slowly came to my senses, and noticed he was talking to me. Instead of grabbing Eric Yorkie's hand, I reached out for this copper-haired man's hand. As my hand slid into his, I felt this intense shock go through our hands. I gasped quietly at the feeling, and recoiled from his hand out of reaction. He must have noticed it as well, because when my eyes flew up to meet his, they were as wide and surprised as mine.

He stiffened up, and jumped backward at the contact. He braced himself against the wall of lockers with his hand. I fell back down to the ground, shocked as the copper-haired man began to pant lightly. His hand flew up to his chest quickly, clawing at his chest through his white, button-up shirt. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. He shook his head, and got his breathing under control partially before speaking. However, he didn't offer me his hand again, so I took Eric Yorkie's hand. No spark passed through our hands as Eric helped me off the floor.

"Are you okay?" The mysterious, copper-haired man asked me, looking genuinely concerned, as he tried to speak through his breathing. Even distressed, his voice sounded as good as he looked.

I nodded, still blushing furiously, and bit my bottom lip, kneading at the skin. He stared at me for a moment, seeming entranced by something.

I didn't have time to properly respond back to him before his hand came back up to clutch at his chest. He rubbed his chest through his shirt again. His other muscular hand still braced himself against the wall, as if he were looking for something to hold onto. His eyes shut tightly, and he clenched his teeth together. His jaw became even more rigid as I heard him groan quietly in pain. He started to draw deep, ragged breaths.

I knotted my eyebrows together in confusion and worry. Without thinking, I reached out and put my hand lightly on his shoulder. I opened my mouth and spoke softly to him, "Are you-?"

I didn't even get the chance to finish my question before he snapped at me through his obvious pain. He backed away from my hand, and I let it drop to my side, disappointed and ashamed.

"I'm fine!" he instantly replied. Hatefully, his beautiful and angry eyes opened and glared at me. My mouth opened a little in shock. I scowled back at him angrily, wondering what I did to piss him off so badly, but also why he was in so much pain.

Before I could, yet again, ask him if he was okay, he took off down the hallway, running away from us – well, from me, it seemed. I watched his back as he sprinted gracefully down the hall. However, I did notice that he still grasped at his chest in pain, and he had begun to limp slightly, trying to hide his pain.

Frozen, I stared after him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

A moment later, I realized that Eric Yorkie was still to my right, and he cleared his throat before speaking.

"And that, Isabella Swan, is Edward Cullen."

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