Sunlight

Mom drove me to the airport at 5:00 in the morning. I got plenty of sleep, since I was used to waking up earlier for swim practice. The windows were rolled all the way down. At this hour, the temperature was perfect. It'd be hot as hell later on in the day. Thankfully, I'd be escaping this September humidity by going to always cool, always rainy Forks.

"Emmett," Mom said brightly, "I'm glad that you want to do this."

I was glad. There were tons of outdoor activities that were offered in Washington State, not to mention that I had just about the best dad in the world. Plus, P.E. was mandatory all four years, so I didn't need to go to the gym. Also, their football team won state plenty of times. This was a refreshing change from the sucky team in Pheonix that was almost completely dependent on me. We pulled into the parking lot, and walked inside the airport.

"Goodbye, sweetie," she said, kissing my cheek. No one seemed to care.

Good, I thought.

I hopped on the plane and we were off to Seattle.

Dad and I took the ferry from Seattle to La Push. There, I found a '52 Chevy that I would be driving home. Dad was going fishing with Mr. Black, one of his friends. As someone who loved and still loves cars in general, especially giant antique behemoths like that truck, I happily accepted his free offer.

When I came home, I was so tired from jet lag, I went to bed immediately. Before I knew it, my alarm went off. 6:00am. School would start at 8:35am. I had sausages, eggs, and grits for breakfast, and was soon in my truck on the way to school. I asked Dad where it was and how I would manage through the day so I wouldn't get lost. I was soon on my way, and in the front office. I turned in my student information sheets, she handed me a map, and I was on my way to my first period class.

I met several friendly people in my classes who were more than happy to show me around. I didn't even need the map. When I was talking about this and that with acquiantances and soon-to-be friends, something distracted my attention.

I saw five impossibly good-looking people. They looked like supermodels with extensive plastic surgery, the end result having them look chalky white with wax-like skin. I wasn't sure whether to be astounded or disturbed.

"Do these people come from L.A.? I mean, how the hell did they manage to look like that?" I asked Mike, one of my soon-to-be buddies.

Mike laughed. "That's what everyone says about Californians. I should know, because I'm from there. No one, not even movie stars in California look like the Cullens."

The Cullens... the surname sounded like some sort of disease.

"Well, they look pretty apathetic," I said. "And blasé."

"Sounds about right," said Mike. "I'd stay away from them."

"Good idea," I muttered, although they were beautiful... in some kind of godlike, inhuman way.

The bell rang, and I was on my way to Calculus. The only empty seat was the one next to one of the Cullens. She was the golden-haired young woman, the most beautiful one. When I took my seat, she looked at me like she wanted to eat me.

"Ma'am?" I asked, my brows furrowing, "Is there a problem?"

"Oh, shit..." she mumbled to herself. Her posture was very rigid, and it looked like she wasn't breathing. I noticed that her eyes were ink black... which scared me.

"You have contacts," I said. "I wonder why? Is it for the dramatic effect? Not that it matters. You look like you've taken too much plastic surgery without them."

She seemed displeased.

"Just listen to the teacher like a good boy," she said. "I'm trying to..." She searched for the right word. "...it doesn't matter. Just... ignore me and stay cool."

I whistled, and she knew I did it because I thought she was nuts. Stupid psycho bitch. I paid attention to the less than enthralling lesson like a good boy, when I noticed she began sniffing me.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I whispered, "What's your problem?"

She slapped herself in the forehead.

"Ms. Hale, is there a problem?" asked Mr. Stevenson irritably.

"Ah, fuck it," she said, promptly leaving class.

"Anyway..." said Mr. Stevenson, "Continuing on..."

After class was over, Mike asked me, "Did you do something to Rosalie?"

"That's her name?" I asked.

"Yeah, she's the blonde," said Mike.

"No, she just went psycho for no reason," I said. "Is she always like this?"

"No, the Cullens just keep to themselves," said Mike.

"The Cullens" were always referred in the plural, as if they were one person, and not five different individuals. None of them seemed to have any differentiating characteristics other than their looks. Did they have any personalities at all? So, I went to the gym. The volleyball game cleared my head and helped me relax. I was in my usual cheerful mood when I went to the front office, and although the blonde Cullen was there, she didn't kill it.

"So, I can't switch from Calculus class?" she asked, almost growing desperate. From the minute I looked at her, I always thought she was a level-headed girl, so it surprised me when she sounded pleading... and all about me!

Dammit, I thought, I hate it when this happens.

Truth be told, I was hoping she'd switch out of that class. She scared me shitless, even though I was holding up a good front. Then, she stormed out of the office, and I handed the form to the teacher.

"She's kind of scary," I said to the receptionist. "I wouldn't want to deal with her for four years."

"No, she arrived during her sophomore year, from Alaska. And, anyway, I am glad she'll be graduating this year," she said, beaming.

"So will I," I said. "I overheard your little conversation. I was hoping she'd switch out. Ah, well. Only nine more months."

"You have a very positive attitude," she said. "I wish I could say the same about myself."

"Why, thank you," I said. "Goodbye, and it was nice meeting you."

"You, too," she replied brightly.