I had always hated planes. I mean, what was likeable about sitting in an enclosed, cramped area for an extended time with no leg room to spare? So, naturally, I wasn't looking forward to this particular long flight of seven hours. I was flying from London, where my mom lived, to the Logan airport in Boston, and then another seven-hour flight from Logan to the Portland airport. Then my dad Charlie would drive me to his home in Forks. Today was going to be a big day.

Leaning forward, I took out my iPod from my backpack that sat under the chair in front of me and tapped the earphones into my ears. Switching it on, Avril Lavigne blasted through the speakers. Not the new, pink and blonde Avril Lavigne, but the good old Avril.

"You were everything, everything that I wanted

We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it

And all of the memories, so close to me, just fade away

All this time you were pretending

So much for my happy ending"

Bored, my gaze alternated from observing the passengers to looking curiously out the window. The only thing of interest was a boy my age in the aisle, a couple passengers in front of my seat. He was perfectly gorgeous, with pale skin, dark eyes, and wild bronze hair. Very dreamy, but I wasn't the swooning type. Still, if it was worth anything, I could still manage to not look like a fool. I was thankful that he wouldn't get to see me walk.

It was stuffy already, and I reached up to twist on the air, but had difficulty. The stupid thing would not cooperate.

"Stupid…damn…thingee!" I muttered in frustration. Looking up, the boy's eyes caught mine, seeming darker than ever. He was positively rigid, all alert, his stance hostile. I wondered briefly what his problem was. I didn't do anything to him.

Stiffly, he put his bag away in the overhead and sat in the seat next to mine, still rigid. I let my hair serve as a curtain between us and cranked up my iPod's volume. He could be rude all he wanted, but I was determined to have it not bother me.

"I'm a bitch, I'm a lover,

I'm a child, I'm a mother

I'm a sinner, I'm a saint

I do not feel ashamed"

I sung quietly along to the music, and snuck a sideways glance at the guy next to me. He was still very concentrated, but a small, wry smile played on his lips. Was he amused? What about?

Suddenly his lips started to move very quickly, and my ears strained to pick up the sound. I wasn't normally an eavesdropper, but…okay, I was an eavesdropper. I couldn't help it.

"Alice, I'm hungry," was what he more or less said. I bit back a smile. He must be insane, I mean, who whispers that sort of thing to himself? It was just ridiculous. Oh, wait—he might've had a Blue tooth. Upon a quick glance to his ear, I concluded it wasn't so. Therefore, he was truly crazy.

It was confirmed when a second later he mumbled, "Thank God." I restrained a smirk as I watched the little TV up ahead explain what to do in an emergency.

Then his eyes, blackish brown and rough, like tree bark, fixed on me with purpose. I gave him a quizzical look, but the only response was his eyes widening in amazement and then his brow furrowing in further focus. Weird.

"So um, are you clinically insane?" I blushed deep red as soon as the words slipped out. Sure, it was all fine and well to ridicule someone in my own mind, but to let them know out loud was absolutely mortifying. And I say that in the least sarcastic way possible, because I'm dead serious.

My question seemed to revive him, and he replied, chuckling, "No, not quite." But that was all that he said, for as soon as he spoke he looked like he regretted it and became as unyielding as ever. I resisted rolling my eyes (he was watching me strangely) and instead fixed them on the flight attendant that was making sure all the compartments when secure.

It was like that for the first hour or two of the flight; him rigid, myself bored. Then he said, "What's your name?"

I was startled from my book. After the incident before, I decided that he was mute and had occasional bouts of speech. It was stupid, I knew, but it amused me, if only a little bit. "Um, Bella." I answered, and turned back to my book, expecting no further conversation.

"I'm Edward," he said gravely. Surprised, I looked up and gave a little smile and an accompanying nod, and that was the end of it.

Wow, that was short. But I wanted to stop there, it's all so much more dramatic. As you could tell, I've made a few little changes in Bella, but no very verymajor changes. Yeah, Bella, while born in Forks like the book, has a British accent. =0

This fanfiction will consist of basically me tweaking Twlight's plot here and there...mostly for my own enjoyment but you can read, too. =)

Review, por favor.

Becca~