CHAPTER TWO

The incessant beeping of my alarm clock told me it was morning and, ready or not, time to get up. One never would've been able to tell just by looking outside-- any trace of morning sun was well hidden by the solid sheet of rain and clouds.

I stared at the red, flashing lights of the clock. I'd been staring at them off and on since I'd fallen into a restless sleep near midnight. My body felt heavy as I sat up and walked to the bathroom; my fingers were twitching, but I ignored it and slowly got dressed and brush my teeth. After about half an hour of attempting to look presentable, I gave up, shrugging on the jeans I wore the day before and an old, dark blue hoodie I'd gotten from my grandmother when she visited Las Vegas for the first time.

Eventually, I'd managed to gather up my wallet, my information for school and make it down the stairs without breaking my neck. When I got to the end of the stairs, I noticed a brand new backpack sitting by the door. Curious, I went over to look; it was black and a dark, maroon red… my favorite color. It was filled with pencils, paper, notebooks… and a little note, folded up inside.

I love you, Bella. Have a good day.

- Dad

Wow. I stared at the note a moment, then tucked it back into the backpack. That was something I planned on saving for as long as possible-- it wasn't every day that my father put forth that sort of emotional effort.

Going into the kitchen, I found Charlie there eating breakfast. "Hey," I greeted, grabbing some cereal and sinking down into the second of the two chairs in the corner.

"Good morning," he replied, looking up from his paper. He smile faded a tiny bit as he saw what was undoubtedly the giant circles under my eyes that I'd haphazardly tried to hide with concealer make-up, the only sort I bothered wearing on a regular basis and a tell-tale sign of my being overly tired. "How are you?"

"A bit shaky," I admitted. "But I'll be okay once I start moving around. Uhm… Do you want me to pay you back for that stuff in the hall? I brought some money with for supplies."

Charlie's smile came back, his expression slightly embarrassed. "No, consider it a gift. I wanted you to feel comfortable your first day."

"Thanks, dad. That's really nice of you."

He nodded, and we fell into out usual silence; he hated being emotional just as much as I did. After we were both finished with breakfast, I left the kitchen and slipped on my jacket, waiting for Charlie by the door. While I waited, I looked over the pictures on the wall. My dad when he first became a cop… him with my mother in the delivery room, the baby version of me in his arms… him holding up a giant salmon with his friend, Billy Black… and a picture of him standing with me at a dance recital, one of the few my mother had actually allowed him to attend. I felt my throat close up, and I quickly looked away.

Charlie was there just then, and though he didn't say anything as he opened the door and we headed to the car, I knew that he'd seen my looking at the picture. I ducked my head; I wanted to avoid discussing that subject for as long as possible, and while I was certain that he wouldn't bring it up without some sort of warning, it was awkward enough to just have it hang in the air between us. To my joy, the entire ride towards to High School was without conversation of any sort, let alone on the 'prohibited topic'.

The High School itself wasn't anything like I'd seen before. As we pulled up a good half an hour early, I puzzled over the odd layout of the building before I realized it was actually several different buildings of varying sizes, almost like a housing complex more than a government establishment. There were oodles of birch trees lining the perimeter of the entire place, a natural boundary-line that was a stark contrast to the metal, barb-wired topped fences around my school back in Phoenix. The homey, reddish brick of the buildings was also different from the traditional plaster and plastic getup…

… I wondered if they had a metal detector.

"Here we are," Charlie announced needlessly as he pulled up to the front of what looked to be the main office. I pulled up the hood on my jacket, more for fear of being seen than fear of getting soaked. "Good luck."

"Thanks," I sighed.

As if, my mind grumbled. It was a quick dash from the cruiser to the office. I opened the door and scurried in, pleased by the unexpected warmth and brightness of the office. No sickly florescent lights, no police guards and of course, no metal detectors… Just a few well-placed, ivory-colored lamps that went nicely with the butterscotch walls and darker brown furniture. Pulling my thoughts away from the interior decorating, I yanked off my hood and walked through the thankfully empty room to the counter.

I bit back a flutter of nervousness as the lady there glanced up at me expectantly. "Uhm… I'm Isabella Swanson. I transferred in from Phoenix, the papers I got in the mail said to come here," I said hazily, hoping that she knew what I was talking about.

The woman didn't even attempt to hide the fact that she was looking me over, sudden, surprised recognition in her green eyes. "You must be Charles' daughter! Sure, I have everything you'll be needing right here… We've been wondering when you'd come back."

While I was tempted to ask who she meant by "we", I resisted; in a town this size and a scandal like that, "we" likely meant everyone in Forks who was old enough to remember my mother's furious departure. I smiled feebly, leaning in closer as she pulled out a small stack of papers and began explaining my schedule, the trimester system and pointing out on a map the best routes to all of my classes. I was grateful as she jotted down some notes, seemingly able to guess that I'd never remember half of what she was telling me.

"And there you go!" the friendly woman concluded, handing me the papers with an accomplished, beaming grin. "Anything else?"

I hesitated a moment before opening my backpack and giving her the medical notes from my Arizona doctors. "There's this. Ch… My dad said he already talked with a couple of my teachers about it, but…"

The red-head accepted the notes and slipped them into a folder without even peeking. "I'll be sure to pass them along," she promised, then handed me a yellow slip. "Have your physical education teacher sign this and bring it back at the end of the day, okay?"

I tried to at least sound upbeat. "Sure thing."

"Welcome to Forks, hun."

Managing to suppress a snort of discontentment, I pulled my hood back up as more students started wandering in and headed for my first class. Fortunately, my coat was nothing outstanding and in the torrential downpour, no one even bothered looking to see if there were any unfamiliar faces. I did my best to not slip on fallen leaves as I shielded my trusty map from the rain, peering at it and eventually just hoping I was going the right way.

Eventually I figured it out and made it to the first building of the day, a vague literature class that sounded like I may have taken it already. Someone held the door open for me, and I said a quick thank you as I entered the room. There weren't many students there yet, so I removed my coat and hung it up on the rack as quickly as possible as to not look suspicious, snagging a chair in the back as far away from everyone else as possible. I kept my head down, becoming very interested in the patterns etched into my desk from previous generations.

"Hi, there."

I looked up at the sudden voice, feeling my nerves start to go again as a medium-height boy took the seat next to mine. A few of the other students, most notably a pair of girls that reminded me all too much of the pale, bleach-blonde cheerleaders from back home, finally noticed that there was an anomaly among their ranks. Naturally, it was those two girls which gave me the same look they'd give a junkyard dog before turning back around to whisper amongst themselves. Apparently, things weren't so different here, after all.

"Hi," I grumbled, turning my attention back to the boy and resisting the urge to strangle him.

The boy was very slight, with longish, slightly oily black hair and silver glasses. He had poor skin and overall looked like the typical nerd, but he had honest, friendly brown eyes and despite his faux pas of drawing attention towards me, I found myself wanting to like him.

"I'm Erin," he said, offering his hand, which I shook. "You must be Isabella."

"Bella," I corrected. "Nice to meet you, Erin."

He seemed pleased. "Bella, got it. My mom is a secretary at the police office and knows your dad, so I heard about you coming a week ago. I just wanted to say that if you need any help, you can ask me."

The bell rang and the teacher stormed in with a scowl, immediately launching into the rules of the class and handing out the course plan. It prevented any further discussion, but I silently thanked Erin in my mind; it had given me something to cling to, knowing there was at least one person who I could possibly befriend. I glanced over the outline of the material the class would be covering and my relief deepened. Most of the reading material on the list were things I'd already covered in my Sophomore year back in Phoenix, save for the Edgar Allen Poe… something I'd devoured on my own when I should have been doing math homework. Despite the grumpy teacher-- who was busy yelling at one of the blonde girls, I noted with smug pleasure-- and my tendency to not be fully awake at this hour of the morning, it was another comfort to know that I'd start my day off with a subject I knew well.

By the end of class, I'd firmly grabbed a hold of that small shred of confidence and hung onto it for dear life as the bell rang and everyone started filing out to the next dose of educational torment. When most of the people were gone, sans Erin and a few others, I got up and went to grab my jacket. The sleeve of my hoodie road up, exposing my medical bracelet; I quickly pulled the sleeve back down as I shrugged my jacket on. Erin wasn't far behind, comparing his schedule to mine and walking with me as if we'd known each other for years.

"I have a question," he asked suddenly as we headed towards my Government class. "Feel free to tell me to mind my own business, of course."

I busied myself with my map. "Yeah?"

"It's just that I saw… uh, your bracelet. I was just wondering…"

Great. I sighed, folding my arms across my chest. "I have epilepsy," I explained. "I'm taking medication for it, but if I get too worked up I could have--"

"A breakthrough seizure," Erin filled in. I stared, and he gave me a nervous grin. "Your hand twitched a bit in class when those girls were talking about you. My older sister has epilepsy-- it gets a bit easy to tell with people after a while."

I didn't know what to say. I'd learned from years of being around others like me that there wasn't much anyone could say. "Oh."

He smiled as we arrived at the building for my Government class. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I know how it is."

"Thank you, Erin. Really."

Erin winked at me, waved and was gone. The tension in my shoulder eased away; as friendly as the boy was, I felt like I'd been holding my breath the entire time. I was going to have to get used to the idea of talking to people after all. I would wait until later before determining if that was a good or bad thing.

Government class was much like English, only the teacher… a younger, energetic male that liked to use sweeping, dramatic hand motions to emphasis his words… was much less grumpy and actually seemed to enjoy bantering with his students. I earned more stares, both during class and on my way to my next class, Geometry with one Mister Ermine. He resembled his name-- small, beady black eyes, a nose that seemed to twitch every five seconds and a horrible disposition. He forced everyone who came in to stand at the front of the room and wait until he called class to order. We were forced to introduce ourselves before he barked out where to sit; the list was alphabetical, which meant I had time to try and calm myself down before he called my name.

When I was called, I quickly stammered my name and that I liked hiking before hurrying to my seat, nearly tripping over the next girl on the way there. Said girl was a tall, willowy red-head named Angela who smiled at me as she came to take the seat to my right a few moments later. We barely said hello, both of us still blushing from our turn at the metaphorical chopping block. At the end of class, Angela shyly offered to walk me to my next class and introduce me to one of her friends. I agreed and followed silently at her side, hiding a bit behind her in a vain attempt to avoid more stares from strangers.

My next class was Spanish. I had taken German at my other school, but since it wasn't offered here in Forks, I had to make do. As we approached the building, a small, wiry girl that looked like a shorter, darker-haired and outgoing version of Angela was waiting outside; she waved wildly at us. As we got closer she stopped, staring a bit before almost jogging over with wide, bright green eyes.

"Oh my god, you're the Chief's daughter!" she breathed. "It's so cool that you lived in Arizona. Was it warm? Do you miss it? How's Forks? I heard your mom ran off with an Italian, is that true?"

Angela gave me an apologetic smile. "Jessica…"

The girl, apparently named Jessica, stopped asking questions long enough to see the look on my face and recognize it as discomfort. "Oh! Oh geeze, sorry. I'm Jessica. …Nice tan."

"My mother's family is Greek," I muttered as Angela left me in the care of her hyperactive friend. I could feel a massive headache coming on.

We took our seats in Spanish, and for the next hour I tried my best to answer Jessica's endless questions. Yes, Phoenix was warm. Yes, I missed it dearly. Forks was the bane of my existence, and my mother's new husband was very, very American. By the time class had ended, I'd managed to tune the girl out completely; she'd apparently asked me everything she could think of and was now babbling about all the hot boys in the school and which ones she think I'd be good with on our way to the cafeteria. I stared straight ahead, taking in slow, deep breaths and trying not to panic at the sight of hundreds of students crammed into what my mind saw as a very tiny space.

"Hey, you okay?" Jessica asked, putting a hand on my shoulder as I felt my legs get a bit wobbly. "I'd have thought you'd be used to a lot of people, being from Phoenix."

"I ate outside," I sighed. "By myself."

She seemed to grasp the meaning of such a thing. "Ohh, you were one of those people. We don't have many loners here, just follow me and you'll be fine. We have our own unofficial table…"

Jessica kindly led me through the maze of tables to the lunch line, pointing out which foods were edible and which should be avoided at all costs. I grabbed a plain salad and an orange juice… my sad attempt at trying to fulfill my promise to eat better, which I ruined by adding a big glop of lukewarm ranch dressing to the sickly, wilted lettuce. I added some mushy olives and tomatoes in an attempt to balance things out, then followed a patiently waiting Jessica to this 'unofficial table' she'd mentioned.

I felt myself blushing again as she introduced me to the handful of other people sitting there. I recognized Angela and Erin, and there was a blond, athletic-looking boy there from my English class who looked vaguely familiar. I tried to remember everyone else's names, but I knew that unless I wrote them down or had classes with them, it would take a few weeks before I got them memorized. Angela, Eric and the one boy all seemed pleased to see me, most of the others were appropriately reserved, but one of the girls very nearly sneered the minute she heard my name; there was always at least one in a bunch. I tried not to stumble as I squeezed into a seat as far away from Snooty Girl as possible next to Erin. I focused on my salad as Jessica began talking a million miles an hour and explaining her connections to everyone at the table.

Suddenly, I felt a small chill go up my spine. I looked up, glancing around the cafeteria with a growing feeling of unease. My eyes landed on a table in the far corner, and I swiftly looked away when I realized one of the table's occupants was staring directly at me. Despite my embarrassment, I glanced towards the table again.

There were five people sitting there, none of them talking. It seemed that every table surrounding their own was empty, as if an invisible barrier blocked others from coming within a ten foot radius. The second thing I noticed was that none of them were talking; there were three males and two females, and all were outwardly pre-occupied with other things. Finally, I took in their general appearance. All were dressed in dark, muted colors and in a style that seemed a little bit too casual, even for Forks… plain and very unassuming. But they…

They were anything but plain.

The first of the males was massive, likely taller than my own father, with dark, curly hair and arms that looked like the man could snap the table he sat at in half. The one sitting next to him seemed smaller and slighter, less intimidating with his ratty camo jacket and tidy, trimmed blond hair; his demure appearance was betrayed by the powerful-looking muscles that moved under his skin as he spun his unopened milk carton around like a top. Unlike the other two, the last male looked youthful and somehow a bit less mature, his bronze-colored hair untidy and looking like he'd not bothered to comb it. He was a bit taller than the blond but thinner, and less buff. The females were equally daunting in appearance, the first being a tiny, almost elfin looking creature with short, spiked hair. The second female and the last of the five looked like she'd stepped from a magazine despite her plain clothing-- tall and lean with impressive curves and long, golden hair that far outshone the bottle blondes in the surrounding tables.

Although they were all different, they did share several key qualities… All looked like they could easily bust your face if you pissed them off. All of them shared a skin tone that could almost be described as translucent. All of them sported dark eyes with bags under them, as if they all were suffering from insomnia, and they were all impossibly, incomparably beautiful.

I couldn't look away. There was something about them, about the way they looked, that reminded me of the exquisite, timeless and pale marble statues my grandmother kept of the Greek gods. And it was the last of the males, the youngest-looking one, which had been staring at me. My eyes went back to him; his back was towards me once again, and I felt a ridiculous stab of remorse at not being able to catch a glimpse of his face again.

"Ah, so you've spotted the Cullens."

Snapping out of my trance, I turned back to see Jessica looking at me with a slight scowl on her face. "Sorry," I stammered. "I… Who are they?"

Jessica flipped her hair, glaring over my shoulder towards the five with open contempt. "They're the kids of Doctor Cullen, the newest guy at our hospital. Well, adopted kids. Jasper and Rosalie Hale are the blonds… I guess they're related to the Doctor's wife. Emmett is the big guy, then there's Alice… and Edward," she very nearly sneered the last one's name.

I struggled for words as I glanced back at their table. "They're… gorgeous."

She shrugged. "They're weird. They've been here for two years and haven't talked to anyone… the Doctor is nice enough, but still. And besides," Jessica lowered her voice in a gossipy fashion, "they date each other. Alice and Jasper go out, and so do Emmett and Rosalie. How creepy is that, yanno what I mean?"

"How do you know that?"

"My mom's friend knows someone who's a nurse at the hospital, of course."

Of course, I thought with dark amusement. I reminded myself to never trust anything Jessica had to say on other people. "What about Edward?" I asked, thankful that my darker skin tone would at least help hide the fact that I was blushing. Jessica and Angela exchanged glances, and I felt myself go from being embarrassed to curious.

"Edward doesn't date," one of the other girls said quietly. "And we don't bother asking."

Suddenly, Jessica brought up a dance that was apparently coming up on Halloween, and the subject thus was switched. I didn't attempt to bring it back to the mysterious, strange teenagers; it, like many things between my father and I, was a forbidden subject here at this table. That much was clear. But why…? I found myself allowing my eyes to wander back towards the table where the five sat… And I froze as my eyes met the coal-black depths of Edward Cullen. For the first time that day, a set of eyes didn't look at me with interest. No, these eyes looked at me with something entirely different.

Hatred.

The bell rang and I jumped in my seat, almost falling off the chair as I turned away and grabbed at my backpack. Angela, who shared Biology II with me, waited until I detangled myself from the table and stumbled to my feet. My heart was bounding wildly in my head, and I stopped for a moment to take a few slow, deep breaths. I couldn't seem to think and walk at the same time… and I was too busy thinking about those eyes, and the emotion within them. Angela, happily, didn't ask-- I wasn't forced to explain the unexplainable terror that boy's gaze had caused. Sure, staring was rude, but still…

Finally, I was able to walk without falling down, and we headed towards the next class. I focused on Angela and her explanation of the biology class, the teacher, and what I'd have to do to get out of dissection labs. We neared the classroom and she paused before adding one last, vital bit of information.

"Edward Cullen is in the class," she said, looking at me as if to drive home the importance of this fact. She didn't say anything else, but I could hear the unspoken attempt to prepare me for something within her words.

"Goodie," I muttered.

Angela either didn't hear or choose not to reply to my lack of enthusiasm, opening the door to the room and going inside. I followed, the happiness of my love for science fading fast in the face of a sudden, gripping sense of panic. I sucked in a breath as I took in the scene before me-- my clumsiness had apparently made us late, and Angela had snagged the second-to-last seat next to the dude from my English class and from the lunch table. I suddenly remembered that his name was Mike-- yet another bit of useless information brought to you by the mind of Isabella Swanson.

There was only one seat left, and I bit my lip as hard as I could as I slinked over to the spot next to the pale, bronze-haired figure. I set myself down on the chair as quietly and carefully as possible, praying to whatever gods would listen that Edward Cullen wouldn't recognize me as the staring girl from lunch. While the teacher took his spot at the front of the class, I did my best to keep my eyes forward and not tempt fate by peeking at my classmate. But the faint sound of metal against linoleum caught my attention, and on my way back from getting the class textbook, I noticed that he has moved as far away from my seat as possible without completely leaving the table.

What the hell was his problem? I felt a flicker of irritation rise inside my mind. For a brief, cynical moment, I wondered if I had forgotten deodorant that morning. But no, my personal hygiene wasn't the issue. I wished it was that simple, especially when Edward came back from getting his own textbook, our eyes briefly meeting; his face twisted into what was almost a sneer. Perhaps, like the girls in my English class and the girl at the lunch table, he had simply found something about me to dislike…

I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing and to the teachers droning voice; my panic began to fade, replaced more and more by curiosity. No, the way he looked at me was different than the others; it was something else, something more than the petty snobbery of my typical High School experiences. I had committed some sort of trespass, though I didn't know what I possibly could have done to offend him enough to glare at me in such a fashion. Regardless, there was nothing I could do about it while I sat in Biology II-- I wouldn't think about the boy who set next to me, those eyes… and the fact that maybe Jessica, despite her questionable sources, might be right.

There was something not quite right. A puzzle. I didn't know what, and I didn't know how on earth I would find out, but one way or another, I had to know more about Edward Cullen. There was one thing I knew for sure-- this year was going to be more interesting than I'd thought.