A/N: So, total author fail. Please refrain from throwing things at me. I know it's been forever and a day since I've updated, but I took a bit of a sabbatical. Now I'm back. Lets do this shit.

I don't own this. Which makes me wonder why I've devoted so much time to it. But, you know… everyone needs a hobby.

Chapter Three

"Forks High School, Home of the Spartans"

I blinked at the sign in front of me a few times before yanking the hood of my jacket over my head and stepping cautiously out of my truck. The rain had gotten heavier, more insistent, and I could feel the surface of my jacket dimple under each heavy drop.

Walking as briskly as I could without tripping, I made my way out of the parking lot to the nearest overhang, taking a moment under my newfound shelter to look around. If this was a high school, it certainly did not look it.

In Phoenix, my school had been large and institutional-looking, long, two-story buildings with beige and tan walls and narrow glass windows. It had been surrounded by chain link fences and low cement block walls. Forks High was an entirely different scene. The buildings were low, brick, and spread out. Rust-colored metal awnings mercifully covered every walkway, providing shelter for students between buildings and classrooms. The buildings looked warm and inviting, their large windows shining brightly through the rain and the gray that surrounded me. Everything around me felt friendly and personal, and I found myself missing the detached sterility of my old school, my old life. This place felt like it wanted something from me. I did not appreciate the feeling.

I turned towards the nearest building and sighed in relief as I read the sign affixed to the wall next to the door.

"Office"

At least I didn't have to wander around in the rain.

Squaring my shoulders, I pushed the door open and stepped inside, unzipping my jacket a bit in response to the warm closeness of the room. The space was rectangular and bisected by a high counter that ran the width of the room, ending in a low gate next to the opposing wall. In front of the counter, in the area nearest the door, there was a row of chairs pushed back against the wall and a small folding table covered in small, neat stacks of papers. The carpet was rust-colored and of the standard commercial variety, and the walls were decorated with neat rows of picture frames, each one containing a photograph of a faculty member, with a small plaque designating their name and subject. Beneath the frames, the walls were a yellowing beige. The room looked old and worn, but it was clear that it was well cared for.

I approached the counter, meeting the eyes of the woman who sat behind it and smiling as warmly as I could at her.

New Bella, new school, new start.

"Hello," I began, placing my hands on the grey Formica surface in front of me and willing my smile to hold, "I'm—"

"Isabella Swan," the woman finished, smiling brightly at me before nodding to herself and busying her hands with some papers in front of her. "You're Chief Swan's daughter. You have his eyes, of course. We're so glad for you to be here, Isabella. Welcome to Forks High."

"Bella," I corrected her, and she looked up at me curiously, her hands stilling for a moment. "I prefer Bella," I explained.

"Oh," she replied, her forehead creasing, and she concentrated on her papers again with renewed vigor. "I'm Mrs. Cope, dear," she said without looking up. "If you have any problems during the year, I'll be the one to help you with them." She smiled at me again, but it did not reach her eyes. I wondered if I'd offended her by correcting her.

"Great."

"Yes," she replied with a brief nod, tapping the papers in her hand on her desk before reaching up to place them in front of me on the counter. "This is your schedule," she said, gesturing to the paper on top. "I know you were in advanced classes at your last school, but our student body is not large enough to accommodate those here, so I'm afraid you'll just have to make do." She looked at me, as though waiting for me to protest or comment. I did neither, so she continued. "As the term has already started, I fit you into whatever I could. We have wonderful teachers here, though, and our students are very friendly. I'm sure you'll be settled in no time."

She removed my schedule from the top of the stack, placing it to the side as she shuffled another paper forward.

"This is a map of the school. I've written your locker number here," she pointed to the bottom corner of the page, "along with your combination. You will find it in the same hallway as your first class, which is also your home room. If you have any questions about where to go, I'm sure your fellow students will be happy to assist you. Your teachers are aware that you are coming, and I will need each of them to sign this," she showed me yet another piece of paper, "and for you to return it to me at the end of the day."

She went through the rest of the papers with me, showing me school policies and supply lists, graduation requirements for the state and academic requirements for the county. She talked me through were to park and again recommended that I approach a classmate if I had any general questions.

"Have a wonderful first day, Bella," she said, waving me out of the office. "I hope you enjoy your time with us."

Walking out of the building, I paused to shove the papers into my jacket and pull my hood over my head before walking back to my truck. I had parked in the wrong lot. I would have to move.

Driving over to the student lot Mrs. Cope had described for me, I mulled over the day ahead. There were elements I could not control. I could not control the teachers or the students, the curriculum, the weather, my schedule. But I could control my behavior. I could control how I reacted to everyone, how I presented myself. I couldn't control their opinions of me, but I could help shape them. And I was Chief Swan's daughter. A good impression was necessary, if only for his sake.

I parked in the first space available in the crowded lot and took a few calming breaths before stepping out into the rain once more, this time with my Jansport slung over my shoulder.

New Bella, new school, new start.

I walked towards the cluster of buildings in front of me, across the crowded parking lot, and into the shelter of the walkway.

New Bella, new school, new start.

I pulled out my schedule and read through it a couple of times.

English, American Government, Trigonometry, Spanish, Lunch, Biology, Gym.

Piece of cake.

Squaring my shoulders, I set off for my first class, my first new teacher, my first introduction to the student body. I could do this. I would do this.

New Bella, new school, new start.

Today was the first day of the rest of my life.

At the time, I didn't know how true that was.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The first four periods passed quickly and without incident. None of my teachers had made me introduce myself to the class, and for that I was eternally grateful. In each new room, there was always one person who was braver than most who would introduce themselves, and I answered a lot of questions and returned a lot of smiles.

Everyone called me Isabella, and, after the first three people, I gave up on correcting them.

Everyone asked me how I liked Forks, what it was like to live in Phoenix, what I thought of the school so far, if all this rain was driving me insane… gentle, social questions that allowed for easy, casual responses.

I was receiving more attention than I would have liked, but it had all been friendly. Everyone had been nice. Every face had held a smile for me.

I was walked to lunch by a girl from my Spanish class whose name I could not remember. She was a head shorter than me and had a wild mane of curly black hair that dropped halfway down her back. She talked too loudly and laughed too readily, but she was nice to me so I did my best to enjoy her company.

She took me through the wide double-doors that led into the cafeteria, steering me towards the lunch line at the head of the expansive room. The scene in the lunch room was, once again, rather different from what I had been used to in Phoenix. Rather than long, institutional tables with attached seating, the room was littered with smaller, rounder tables. Brightly-colored plastic chairs were being moved from table to table at will, demonstrating rather quickly who was popular in the room and who was not. The socially ignored of the school sat at tables with markedly fewer chairs.

After selecting and paying for a slice of pizza and bottle of water, my companion led me confidently towards her table, situating herself next to me and waving over friends and acquaintances to come and meet me as though I were some sort of side show. Her table filled up rather quickly, and I fell easily into conversation with her friends, talking lightly about places I should go and teachers I should avoid. They were nice. A bit vapid, perhaps, but nice nonetheless. After a while, I stopped having to remind myself to smile. After a while, I stopped inwardly cringing at some of the more childish remarks that drifted into the chatter. After a while, I felt like a normal teenager. And it felt nice.

And then time stopped.

My social guide, Jessica was her name as I'd been able to determine through conversation, had introduced me to yet another person, and I was looking across the table at them, smiling my "nice to meet you smile" and answering the same basic questions I'd been asked all day, when the newcomer moved and my gaze was drawn behind them. My eyes had wandered just for a moment, shifting naturally as they followed a new set of people to their table across the room, marking their motion. Just one moment of broken focus.

A moment was all it took.

My breath stuttered in my chest and my heart froze.

I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move.

I had seen beautiful people before. I had stood idly by with Renee, watching as they filmed the occasional movie in Downtown Phoenix. I had come across a random celebrity or two in shopping malls and restaurants. I had seen beautiful people before and never found them impressive. But this was different.

I stared openly as five unearthly creatures approached what was clearly their regular table. I gawked as five angels dropped gracefully into their seats, barely looking at each other and scattering their focus to opposing sides of the room. I gaped as their stillness gave me the opportunity to examine them in greater detail.

They were… beautiful. But it was so much more than that. They were ethereal. They were transcendent. Their looks and demeanor were almost alien. They were, to be short, perfect.

There were three boys and two girls, though they looked more like men and women. The two girls were physically divergent, one tall and statuesque with golden blonde hair and a face and body that would make a supermodel green with envy. The other girl was short and pixie-like, with a devastatingly sweet face and a cropped mop of black hair which stuck out from her head in artfully shattered little spikes.

The boys were… wow. The biggest one was obscenely muscled, his sculpted arms and chest twitching at the slightest movement. He had short brown hair and an intimidating, masculine face which would melt into an occasional smile whenever the blonde girl leaned over and said something to him. Next to him was a lankier blonde one with sharp features and impossibly perfect posture. He looked as though he was uncomfortable about something, and relaxed only at the occasional touch of the pixie situated to his right. Against the wall, situated slightly away from the rest of his group, sat the last boy. He was… amazing. His hair was the color of bronze, a color I didn't even know existed. It was wild and messy and… tempting. I suddenly felt the impetus to walk across the room and run my hands through it, an urge that I had never before experienced. He sat back in his chair, his long legs sprawling out to the side of the table, and he engaged in chit chat with his friends only occasionally.

He looked like a loner. He looked like he was misunderstood. He looked like… me.

"Jessica," I said quietly, leaning over to my new friend. "Who are those kids over there?"

She followed my gaze, though it was clear from her expression that she hadn't needed to.

"Oh. Those are the Cullens," she smirked.

"The Cullens?" I asked, confused. "You mean they're related? They don't look alike."

And they didn't look alike. They all had decidedly different features and bearings. The only common thread was their coloring. While they had different builds and faces, each of the five had the same marble white skin. They were, without contest, the palest people in the room and, in a town without sunshine, that was saying a lot.

Conversation at my table stopped and everyone leaned in, as though a part of the same organism. Apparently, I had inadvertently stumbled into a much favored piece of gossip, and my new friends were only too happy to educate me.

"They're not related," a girl with long, ash-blonde hair told me, her eyes sparkling. "They're adopted."

"Adopted? But they look so old…"

"Dr. Cullen adopted them all," Jessica picked up, annoyed at her friend's interference. She clearly enjoyed being the center of attention. "They're his foster kids or something."

"That's really nice," I said, turning the idea over in my mind. "He must be an amazing man to take in so many kids."

"Well, his wife can't have kids or something," Jessica said dismissively. "Besides, they're actual siblings. Rosalie and Jasper Hale are twins," she said nodding towards the two blondes at the table. "And Edward, Emmet, and Alice are brother and sister," she nodded towards the remaining three. "Jasper and Rosalie were Mrs. Cullen's sister's kids or something. She died in a car crash."

"That's terrible," I said, my mind reeling. I couldn't imagine losing my mother.

"That's not the best part though," the girl next to Jessica began again, clearly not realizing how insensitive her choice of words was, "the best part is that they're all together."

I looked around my table to find that everyone's faces had broken into excited grins. They were hoping for a shocked reaction from me. A gasp, an eyebrow raise, anything. I certainly wasn't going to give it to them.

"What do you mean 'together'?" I asked flatly.

"They're couples. Jasper and Alice, Rosalie and Emmet. And they live together," Jessica squealed, bringing her hands to her face and bouncing a bit in her chair. "Can you believe it?"

They're couples. Hmmm. Well, no wonder everyone was so excited to tell me about this. Even in Phoenix, this would have been a major topic of conversation. In a small town, it assuredly a downright scandal. Still, they weren't related. They'd clearly been through a lot in their lives. Maybe it was bound to happen. Maybe it was what they needed to get through the hard times. Who was I to judge?

"They're not related, though, Jess," the girl sitting next to me argued, leaning towards her and shaking her head reproachfully. "They've been through enough. Leave them alone."

I looked at my neighbor, surprised. She had brown hair and kind eyes and an honest face. On the mere basis of her ready defense, I liked her immensely.

"Whatever, Angela. You know it's weird."

Angela leaned back, smiling apologetically at me before turning to talk to the boy seated next to her.

"Which one is he?" I asked, pointing as inconspicuously as possible to the boy with the bronze hair.

"Oh. That's Edward Cullen," Jessica huffed, spitting out his name with noticeable malice.

And then he turned. He turned to us as though he'd heard her say his name, which would have been impossible, of course, in the noisy lunch room. But all the same, he turned reflexively and gazed lazily at Jessica for a moment before shifting his focus to me.

His eyes met mine.

I couldn't breathe again.

His eyes kept mine.

I couldn't think.

His eyes wouldn't relent.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't talk.

I couldn't function.

I was entranced. Entranced by a boy I'd never spoken to. Entranced by a boy I'd never laid eyes on until minutes ago. Entranced and curious and, above all else, attracted. After seventeen years of only a minor interest in the male population, of feeling like a poser in the world of relationships, this boy had reminded me that I was a woman with only a sweep of his eyes. I was screwed.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up, though," Jessica said, noting my intense stare. "He doesn't date. Apparently, no one here is good enough for him."

Aha. So she had tried and failed. No wonder she was so quick to throw his family under the bus.

Her childish remark brought me out of my reverie and I quickly averted my gaze to the table in front of me, feeling my face flush a deep crimson and my lips curl inadvertently into a small smile. I stole another quick glance up, and found that he was smiling, too.

The bell rang signaling the end of lunch, and I watched him walk out with his family, noting with bitterness the way each of them walked, visions of sheer grace and perfection. I would never be able to walk like that. I would never be able to look like that.

Leave it to me to choose someone so inaccessible for my first crush.

Edward Cullen was beautiful and appealing and the epitome of perfection.

And, of course, I didn't stand a chance.

A/N: I've completely left my Darkness and Light universe. Well, not completely, but I was growing tired of editing and decided to simply re-write. Which means these will be entirely different stories. Which means I will return to Darkness and Light when the mood strikes and give you some more gooey Edward/Bella drama.

Anyway, review please. See that button, just under this sentence? Click on it. Type something. You know you want to.