"Night, Rose." Connor mumbles as he closes his bedroom door behind him. I look sympathetically in my brother's direction; another long day at work, another day of his life spent. He's driving himself too hard these days, but then, he always has done - it's been in his nature for as long as I can remember. I push the door shut with my foot and lay down, wrapping myself in the comfort of my duvet. I hope to shield myself from my thoughts as well as the cool air. Who knows how much sleep I'm about to receive, there are a thousand worries filling my head and every time I attempt to bat them away they spring back like mini boomerangs.
More often than not, my thoughts turn to Connor; he's one of the main topics that curl my stomach into knots and make my brain ache. I owe him so much for everything that he does and has ever done for me. My brother has practically raised me. He has the brains and the drive to be a doctor but he has always refused to go to medical school. Instead he works tirelessly in a bar in Portland to pay our bills, while I still go to school. I'm beginning my senior year at Forks High School tomorrow. I'm not too anxious about it because it's a small place and I met Angela this summer, who goes there, and she seemed like someone that I could be friends with.
I can't wait for graduation because then I can persuade Connor to go to med school and, hopefully, by then I'll have figured out what I want to do, where I want to go. All I've ever known is that I want a loving husband to have children with, to grow old with and to live a happy life with. My family is very important to me because it currently only consists of one person, who has been a mother, a father and a brother to me all at once. Our childhood was stolen from us on a day that seems like forever ago when our parents got on a plane home from Greece. Connor told me that that was where our grandparents had retired and our mother and father had to rush out there when our grandfather had a heart attack. We stayed with our neighbors; Connor's friend from school and his family. Anyway, they never made it back. I was five. I can only remember images of my mother and father; but Connor has many memories of them and of us when we were all together. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for a nine-year-old boy to be left alone.
All he had was me to take care of, and that wasn't easy. We stayed with other relatives, our other grandparents and then our aunt but we had never been particularly close to them. After our parents died Connor was the only one who was true family to me. A precious reminder of what we had that only the two of us could endevour to keep alive. But I know myself; I have my attitude, my hostility, my vanity. No one has ever been able to deal with it like Connor. I'll never know what kind of a burden I have been to him but the combination of my memories and my imagination paints a shameful picture. Five days ago I turned 18, so at least now no one has to be legally responsible for me. And when I've finished school, he will be free. Both of us will be.
Oh god, I cannot wait for this year to be over.
Seven a.m.
I wearily swing my legs out of bed and stand, immediately having to steady myself by placing a hand on my bedpost. The answer to my question was three hours - three hours of sleep. I take a mental note of all the things I had to get done within the next hour: shower, get dressed, have breakfast, brush my teeth, do my makeup, fix my hair. I make eye contact with my reflection in the mirror. People have always told Connor and I how beautiful we are. And I can't deny that, when I became a teenager, I realised how lucky I am; I've never needed braces or suffered from acne and I've never struggled with my hair or my weight or my height. I haven't had a major illness or injury. And neither has Connor as far as I know. So yes, we are lucky. It's a mercy that the universe granted us. And I care a lot about my appearance. I guess that's because, growing up, it felt like one of the only things that I was able to control. It also distracts me from thinking about what I'm about to do or where I'm about to go which is something that I am generally ambivalent about.
I take my time getting ready, curling my hair and deciding which shoes to wear. I pick up my bag and beige jacket - you don't have to live in Forks for long to know that you should expect rain. As I enter the kitchen I find Connor, only half-awake, making breakfast. He has insisted on driving me to school; I can't drive myself because he needs the car during the day. But I would walk if that's what I needed to do, the school is not too far from home.
"Hey." I smile warily as I sit at the table.
"Ready for your first day?" He asks as he finishes up and hands me a plate of waffles - something that we have eaten frequently since we were kids. Connor lands heavily on the chair opposite me and slowly starts to eat. No, he's not in a bad mood but he is worn and deserves to have the day to relax. I wish he had it.
"Yeah." I nod, despite everything that's going on, I feel positive about the day. I have a new year, a fresh start. And if I stay positive then that only makes both mine and Connor's life better.
Eventually, I am ready to leave. I take one last glance at the mirror, which gives me satisfaction, and then step outside. It's only September but there is already a slight, unwelcome chill in the air. I hug myself as I march forward.
"This is ridiculous, it's already getting cold." I comment irritably as I hop into the passenger seat. Connor chuckles as the engine of our car erupts and we set off down the street that we have both become familiar with. Forks is a small town so I wonder where all the students of Forks High School live. They can't all fit into this one town, so the question is, why would you come here if you live farther out? What draws people in?
A loud crowd of people greet us as we drive through the entrance. Everyone's welcoming each other back, ready to start the new school year. I wonder who among them I will be saying goodbye to in less than a years time.
Connor and I have spent our lives moving around, mainly being juggled by relatives who either didn't really want us or were just trying to decide what was "best" for us. But as Connor became an adult officially - though he had grown up fast anyway - he got to make decisions. This move was agreed between us as temporary, so that I can finish high school and we can spend time in Seattle, where our father grew up.
I think of all the friends that I have said goodbye to over the years. People that I have left just as I was starting to feel like I had made real friendships with them. I used to try to keep in touch with them but when it became evident that it was just a long struggle of preventing the inevitable, I gave up. This is my third high school. But maybe, since it is everybody's last year, I will find people who I will have a lasting relationship with. I hope so.
After a few short minutes, we find a parking space among the babble of students surrounding a variety of cars. I admire a shiny Volvo in the corner. It looks suspiciously brand new. I know my cars, I know that model, and this is not the place I would have ever expected to see it.
"Check out that Volvo." I say to Connor, pointing at it.
"Mm, shiny" He smirks. I grin at him. Our dad had been a car fanatic and Connor has told me about how Dad used to spend hours showing him old magazines and teaching him about mechanics in the garage. He taught me what Dad taught him and from then on it's been our passion.
"Thanks for the ride, Connor." I say with a twinge of nervousness as I grasp the door handle.
"Have a great day, okay?" He responds as he squeezes my hand. "I can't wait to hear about all your adorable new friends." He jokes and I playfully hit him on the shoulder before jumping out and waving goodbye. This is going to be good, I tell myself, as I confidently stride towards the main entrance of the building. People here and there send me puzzled glances; I guess new people in a small town like this aren't that common.
I pull out my class schedule and begin to start searching for my history room before I hear the only voice in the school that is recognizable to me.
"Rosalie, hey!" Angela calls through the swarm of students. At once, I feel relieved, and speed towards her through the maze. I met Angela just a few days after Connor and I moved in when I got in to talking with her at a music store. Another interest of mine is music but I never really learned an instrument properly as it was expensive and I couldn't stay in one place long enough to make a huge amount of progress. Angela plays both the violin and the piano which I am admittedly very envious of.
"Angela!" I greet her cheerfully. "I forgot how busy high school can be on the first day." I laugh as I keep to the edge of the corridor.
"Yeah, it's pretty crazy!" She agrees. I make eye contact with two of her friends. "Rosalie, this is Jess and this is Mike." Angela introduces as I smile politely at the two of them. Jess has what I can only describe as a snarl on her face. I restrain myself from speaking, although I can tell right off the bat that she doesn't like me very much. How polite. In contrast, Mike welcomes me enthusiastically.
"What class do you have now?" He questions. He seems kind and eager to help me find my way, as does Angela.
"History." I tell them, remembering that I have to try and navigate a whole new place again and glad that I am not alone. "Any of you guys take it?" My eyes scan around as I hope Mike or Angela - not Jess, who continues to send me a cold and hostile vibe - say yes.
"Jess and I do. Let's go." Angela decides firmly, dragging Jess and I along with her. I can immediately tell that she is the punctual type. Seemingly disciplined and intelligent and probably used to prompting Jess to come to class. I become aware of a pressure - from myself - to make conversation and learn about the school when we make a sharp right in to a room. I catch the eyes of multiple people as the three of us find seats.
"Oh, hello." An energetic teacher welcomes me as I sit by Angela. "You must be Rosalie. I'm Miss Roehampton. Welcome to our school." I smile somewhat sheepishly at her, as everyone who's listening locks on to me and I feel like God has just knocked a digit off the number of the grade I'm in.
"Thank you." I nod, blocking out the room.
History class at Forks High is average but I remain as interested as ever unlike some of my classmates. It's easy for me to focus; I love to learn and this change in environment - new place, new people - is entirely welcome. Jess is absent-mindedly tapping her pen against the table and Angela is scribbling down notes, when the bell rings. First class down and I feel positive about about getting through the day.
Angela directs me to Chemistry and when I reach the open door I take in the new room. The atmosphere seems the same as my previous classroom until my eyes wander over to the two people at the back. I can't look away. Their features are sharp, well-defined and there is a breath-taking elegance about them. I feel a pang of jealousy as I stare at their mysterious faces. The blonde guy is handsome in an old-fashioned way yet he is statuesque and slightly menacing, which intrigues me. The girl with short, dark hair looks like a pixie, she is beautiful and has her arm linked around his. I have never seen people like them.
It suddenly occurs to me to take a seat when I realise that the girl is staring back at me. I blink at her before, cautiously, grabbing a chair nearby. I begin to tap my pen against the desk as I am suddenly full of nervous energy. I attempt to shake it off as class begins but I can still feel at least one set of eyes burning into my back and I can't ignore the spark that has been lit in me; usually when someone stares at me it's because they don't like me. Irritation and hurt swamp my head. I try to consider what Connor said to me once, more than once, actually. Connor says that I can be too protective, too defensive and that sometimes I jump to conclusions. I guess it's because I have had frequent experiences of irrational hostility, so much so that maybe at times I adopt that attitude myself. I haven't known how to deal with these situations because nothing has ever seemed to work.
I breathe calmly and tell myself how ridiculous I am being; the only reason that the girl is staring at me is because I was staring at her. Yes, that's all. Maybe she is interested because I am new. She could become my best friend for all I know, though in this moment I'm struggling to believe that's a possibility. I sigh and attempt to give my undivided attention to the teacher whose name I never caught.
As time passes, I nonchalantly flip my head in their direction and see that the girl's eyes remain locked on to me and, worse, that her boyfriend - I presume - is whispering to her. I narrow my eyes as anger builds inside of me; maybe I wasn't being so irrational, after all. They don't look particularly mean and they hardly appear to acknowledge my reaction at all but why else would they talk about me, when I've never met them before? Is there something wrong with how I look? Is it just that I'm new? Maybe they're Jess's friends and she said something to them. I hate this. I wanted to escape it. We're all almost eighteen and it's too juvenile. I'm an adult. Connor does not have to look after me anymore.
I decide to confront them - wanting to kill any animosity as quickly as possible. They are talking to the teacher so I land myself in the lunchtime buzz, only to step to the edge and wait as students flow past me. My eyes dart around the crowd, trying to familiarize myself with the new faces and searching for the ones that I have already been acquainted with.
That's when I catch eyes with him. Just a few yards away, leaning against some lockers on the opposite side. I am instantly paralyzed. With any other attractive guy, I offer a smile, a grin, I might even wave; not with him. There is no room to think about what I'm doing when he is standing in front of me. The people around me slow down, I can't hear anything, I can't see anything but him. I feel like he is gravity and he's pulling me towards him but I can't move my body. I just sink into his eyes for what feels like eternity. For a second, I think I see a smile play at the corner of his mouth, then my classmates disturb my line of vision and it's like someone pressed play on life again. I become aware of myself again and find my heart is racing. All plans of interrogation are forgotten. The girl takes one glance back at me then drags her boyfriend with her as she skips over to the guy, who continues his day as though nothing happened, causing me to wonder if I just imagined the whole experience. I watch the three of them gradually disappear and it takes a moment for me to move again.
"How's your day going?" Angela asks me after I find her table in the cafeteria and she introduces me to the people that I don't know.
"It's going good, thanks. I like it here." I say. I look around the busy cafeteria. I don't acknowledge it but I know what I'm searching for. I spot a table that stands out from the others. It's them: the two people from my Chemistry class, two others who I don't know, and him. Angela, Jess and a few others follow my gaze.
"Who are they?" I ask, trying to be casual.
"The Cullen family. They kind of keep to themselves, no one really knows any of them." Angela replies quietly. "They're adopted siblings." I watch them talking and laughing with eachother. They seem like a family.
"They're weird". Jess says and I whip my head round confusedly.
"Jess!" Angela exclaims disapprovingly.
"Well it's true. They live together but they're like together, together." Jess tells me, clearly relishing the attention and drama of it all. Jess is a gossip. "Who does that?" She shakes her head and points shamelessly over to their table. Jess would probably be friends with anyone who knew less about things than she did, just so that she could tell them. Unfortunately for our friendship, I'm not a people-pleaser and soon I'm going to know more than she does about that family.
"So the girl with the long, dark hair, that's Bella. She's with Edward, the guy next to her with the kind of bronze coloured hair who spends most of his time brooding. Then there's Jasper with the blonde wavy hair and he's with Alice, the pixie, she's a little crazy." She explains as my eyes dart around the figures sat at the table, until they land on the last person, who hasn't been mentioned.
"What about-"
"Emmett?" She interjects and smirks, knowing what I was about to ask. "He's single. Totally gorgeous and all that half the girls in the school talk about. I wouldn't waste your time going after him, he's never said yes to anyone." She tells me, frustrated. I look at Jess blankly for a moment and it seems like she is waiting for me to respond. I realise she's waiting for me to assure her that I won't make a move on him.
"Yeah, he's not really my type, anyway." I laugh and Jess appears satisfied. But my gaze naturally drifts back over to Emmett and I am surprised to find his eyes fixed on me. I instantly snap my eyes away, afraid of getting sucked in like I did earlier today. But the image of him looking at me sticks in the front of my mind. I can't work out his expression. He isn't happy but he isn't angry or sad either. Slowly, I look over at the Cullen's table and see his brother, Edward, who is next to him, say something and Emmett nods and then resumes talking to his family. Again, as though nothing happened. I look down at my hands, tugging at the sleeves of my jacket.
I glance back every so often during the rest of lunch but he doesn't look at me again. "Don't waste your time" - that's what Jess said. That's what I must tell myself. But right now, it feels like everything else I do has become a waste of my time.
