A/N: This is totally becoming a dangerous obsession. I was knitting at a stitch and bitch today, and all I could think about was getting home to write another chapter. Seriously. Thank god I'm between relationships right now, cause if I was dating someone, he'd be forced to kill me. Did I really just say that? Lol. Also, I just found a story timeline and realized that Bella started school in January, not November as I believe I said in the previous chapter. I'm going to go back and change that… I like January better.

Twilight and its characters don't belong to me. I just play with them, like a kid with puppets. Stephenie Meyer designed and owns the puppets. I just make them dance. *evil laugh*

Chapter Four

"New school, new start," I breathed to myself a couple more times. Taking a quick glance around the parking lot, I noticed only a couple of cars, and realized I had probably parked in the wrong place. The cars looked far too sensible to belong to students. Examining the building in front of me from the cab of my truck, I noticed a small, neat sign reading "Front Office" hanging above a door situated to the side of the building. I let out a small sigh of relief. I had stumbled upon the building that I needed, and without even trying. That had to be a good sign, right?

I stepped cautiously out of the truck, grateful that the rainfall had slowed to a mere drizzle, and hurried towards the covered walkway that lead into the building. Obviously I would need to move my car, but at least now I wouldn't have to walk around campus lost for the first few minutes of my day. Lowering my jacket hood when I reached the office door, I arranged a smile on my face for the second time that day. I was Chief Swan's daughter. I had a role to play.

"Hello, dear. What can I do for you?" a kind voice asked from behind a long, low counter that dissected the room.

"Umm… hi. I'm supposed to start classes today. I'm-"

"Oh, of course. You're Isabella, Charlie's daughter. Welcome to Forks, dear. " she said warmly, smiling at me from beneath her glasses. She stood and began gathering papers from some of the neatly arranged piles on the counter. "Here's everything you'll need. School map, policies, etc. Let me just go and find your schedule," she began rifling through a file cabinet to her left.

I took a quick look around the room. It was warm in here. Too warm. The walls were an aging butter yellow, flecked with water stains in places, and adorned with useless academic posters like "Reading is FUNdamental." There was a loudly ticking, institutional looking clock against the back wall, the kind every classroom has and every student stares at raptly until it's time for the next bell. The commercial-grade carpet was a sort of brown color now. It was hard to tell what color it used to be. There were a handful of desks behind the counter, and some low seats against the wall in front of the counter. Clearly defined spaces for students and adults. Boundaries.

"Here you go, Isabella."

"Bella." I corrected automatically, reaching forward for the papers she was handing me. "Do I need to buy a parking sticker or anything?" I asked, immediately regretting it after seeing her bite back her laughter. I was used to big schools, big cities. This would take some getting used to.

"No, dear. Of course not. We have plenty of parking. Just be sure to park in the student lot," she said, still hanging on to the giggle that I was sure she would release when I left. She gestured to my map, showing me where I was allowed to park. She then handed me another, smaller slip of paper, telling me to get it signed by my teachers and bring it back at the end of the day. Wishing me luck, and sending me off with a nod and a wave, she ushered me out of the office and back into the cold air. Note to self, don't ask anymore stupid questions. Ever.

Back in my truck, I followed the now steady line of traffic that was forming on the road into a larger parking lot. Checking my map to make sure I was in the right place, I maneuvered my truck into a spot close to the back, cutting the engine as soon as I was in. Taking a quick glance around, I took comfort in the diversity of makes and models and years pulling in around me. Mine was not the worst car here. So far, so good.

Carefully making my way down the rows of cars, I stole a quick glance at my schedule. English. Building three. Alright. I can do this. I pulled the hood of my jacket farther down over my face, savoring my anonymity for as long as possible before the assault of attention I'd certainly be met with as the day wore on. I was a new girl in a small town. I was a new girl in an even smaller school. I was a new girl in an even smaller junior class. I shook my head, willing the knot in my stomach away. I could do this. New school, new start.

I noticed with relief that the buildings on this campus were very clearly numbered and very close together. My map would not be needed. I was spared from at least one humiliation for the day. Spotting building three, I cut across the grass in front of me, hoping to reach it faster. My foot sunk down an inch, water oozing around my thankfully waterproof boots. Note to self, avoid grass. I immediately got myself back onto a sidewalk, taking the long way around as I followed dozens of damp coats into the deliciously warm building. Taking a quick look around, I spotted my room number and approached it carefully, my boots slipping and squeaking on the hallway floor. I can do this. New school, new start. Two deep breaths. Here we go.

I was in, quickly shrugging off my coat and hanging it on one of the hooks lining the wall next to the door, mirroring the actions of the strangers who walked in ahead of me. Keeping my head down, I made a beeline for the desk in the front of the classroom, handing the requisite slip of paper to the teacher and receiving a course syllabus in return. He signed my slip and directed me to an empty desk in the back, which I walked to thankfully. At least in the back nobody could stare at me. Wrong.

Arranging myself in my desk, I looked up to see 20 pairs of eyes facing me. Appraising me. Wondering about me. I felt myself blush and I looked down immediately, studying first my syllabus, then my new notebook, then a piece of lint on my sweater. Anything. Anything to keep me from looking up again. And then it hit me. These people don't know me. They know my dad, but they don't know me. They don't know anything about me. They don't know who I am or what I like or how I was at my old school. This is an opportunity. I can be who I want here. New school, new start. Get your shit together, Swan. You're blowing it.

I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, straightened my shoulders, bit my lip, and looked up. And it was over. And not that bad. The class was studying Shakespeare, something I was more than familiar with from back home, and I even answered a couple of questions. Eyes turned to me frequently, and I just looked right back at them. No, they didn't know me. But I didn't know them, either. And it was ok. I was ok. This day would be ok.

The bell rang and I collected my things, glancing again at my schedule again before heading towards the door. I was stuffing myself back into my jacket when a voice spoke my name behind me.

"You're Isabella Swan, right?" the voice confidently asked. I spun to look at him. "I'm Eric. Eric Murphy," he continued, offering me his hand.

"Hey, Eric. Nice to meet you. It's Bella, though. I prefer Bella," I said, wondering how many times I would be forced to repeat those words today. I shook his hand gratefully, examining him. His hair was black and greasy, slicked back off of his acne marred face, but his brown eyes were warm and friendly as he offered to show me to my next class, walking me right up to the door.

"I have Spanish now, so I'm not going in with you, but I'll see you later," he said, his voice a mix of hope and regret and nerves. This boy clearly liked me. I hoped it wouldn't be an issue.

"Definitely," I smiled back at him. "Thanks so much for your help." I walked into the buzzing classroom to begin again the ritual that would consume my day. Hang coat, greet teacher, get paper signed, receive syllabus, walk to desk, stare at clock, space out. Repeat.

The classes were too easy, the faces too eager to stare at me, and the time moved too slowly, but I made it through the first half of my day. In every class, a stranger offered to walk me to the next one. With every stranger, I repeated my lines. "Nice to meet you. I prefer Bella."

And now I was walking to the cafeteria with a chatty girl from my trigonometry class whose name I did not remember. There had been too many names this morning. She was shorter than me, which is saying a lot since I'm only 5'4", with a mass of curly black hair threatening to envelop her slight features at any moment. She spoke animatedly about teachers I should like, teachers I should hate, girls I should like, girls I should hate, etc. She talked through the lunch line, through the cashier, and as she led me to a table of her friends, ushering me to sit. Smiling around the table, she had each person introduce themselves. I forgot their names immediately. But at least they all looked familiar. I noticed throughout the day that I generally had the same kids with me in every class. That was good. Less to remember. One of them called her Jess, and I filed that away. Her name was Jessica. Check.

I was asked over and over how I liked Forks and over and over again I lied. When asked why I moved from Phoenix, I made a joke about being allergic to the sun. Nobody laughed. Still, everyone here was pale like me, and I felt a little more at ease. In Phoenix everyone was too tan and too blonde and too happy all the time. Forks was probably just as disingenuous, but at least I looked like I belonged.

I made efforts I wouldn't have made in Phoenix, talking to everyone and trying to be charming. I took this as an opportunity for this place to be different for me. I didn't have to be alienated here. I could have friends and a life. I could be typical for once. And then I saw them. And I felt my whole world change.

They sat at their own table across the room, and they were beautiful. So beautiful. My breath caught in my throat as I studied them, taking them in, fascinated. There were five of them situated around the table. Their backs were to the window behind them as they sat facing the room, but they didn't look at each other. They didn't look at anyone. They just sat. And they were so beautiful.

There were three boys and two girls. But they didn't look like boys and girls, they looked like men and women. Like models. Like movie stars. One of the boys was enormous, muscular, and very intimidating with a shock of dark, curly hair. Another was tall and lean, but still clearly muscled, and he sat with his head in his hands, fingers braided through his honey-colored hair. He looked sad. Uncomfortable. Something. The girl to his right had her hand on his shoulder, but she didn't look at him. She was tiny and sprite-like, with fine, angular features and unruly black hair, cut short and sticking every which way. On the other side of her sat a startlingly beautiful girl. She was statuesque and poised and her face epitomized perfection. Her honey hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders and down her back, and she leaned over suddenly to talk to the larger, intimidating one. They all looked different, but the same. They shared complexions, each with skin like white marble. In a room full of pale people, their skin tone still stood out. But none of them mattered. The only one that mattered was him. The only person in the room was him. On the planet, in the universe. I was terrified. And then I was in love.

He was slouched in such a graceful way that you couldn't really call it slouching. He looked like he was trying to protect himself from the world, trying to keep people out and away. He seemed younger than the rest of them, with a boyish face. A beautiful face. A face that put every other face to shame. Shifting, he ran his fingers through his hair, long and bronze-colored and wildly out of control. I wanted to cross the room and touch that hair, touch his face, touch his body. I wanted to worship him as my own personal deity. As beauty incarnate. As perfection found. I was terrified. And I was in love. And I needed information.

Forcing myself to break my gaze, I turned to Jessica, trying to be nonchalant and probably failing miserably. "Who are they?"

She didn't even have to look towards where I was gesturing. She knew who I was talking about. The whole table knew who I was talking about. "Those are the Cullens," she said, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling. Clearly, the girl loved gossip. "They're Doctor Cullen's kids."

"They're all related?" I asked. That was a surprise. Aside from their beauty and their skin, they looked nothing alike.

"Well, they're adopted. The blonde girl and the blonde guy are Rosalie and Jasper Hale. They're twins," she began, nodding to who she was talking about. In the middle of her speech, the smaller girl with the black hair left the table, dumping her full lunch tray in the trash and skipping out like a gazelle. "The other two guys are Edward and Emmett Cullen. The girl that just left is their sister, Alice Cullen," she finished, sitting back in her seat.

"They're all adopted? That's really nice of… Doctor Cullen, was it?" I was impressed. To adopt five kids like that, and keep them as siblings. That took a big heart.

"Well, his wife couldn't have kids or something," Jessica said, dismissing the charitable aspect of their situation. I didn't like Jessica. "That's not the best part, though," she grinner, leaning all the way across the table now. "They're all together." She pronounced every syllable, her eyes fixed on my face, waiting for my reaction. "Rosalie and Emmett, Jasper and Alice. And, they live together." She was clearly enjoying this.

"They're adopted, though, so they're not really related," a small, dark girl sitting next to Jessica said, trying to defend them. Jessica just gave her a look and grinned at me, clearly pleased by whatever my face did. I was having problems thinking. I could barely breathe with that boy in the room. Her story finished, I risked another glance at the table.

"Which one's Edward?" I asked, trying to sound casual. He looked up then, as though he heard me. And my heart stopped.

"The one with the reddish hair," she said, "in the black shirt."

Was he wearing a shirt? I hadn't even noticed that part.

"Don't get too excited, though," she continued. "Edward doesn't date. Ever. Apparently none of the girls here are good enough for him," her tone was a bit too flat, a bit too annoyed. She had obviously tried and failed. I quickly adjusted my hand over my mouth to hide my smile, and stole another look through my hair at him. At Edward. Oddly enough, he was smiling, too.

The rest of lunch went quickly and quietly. The table continued to question me, and I'm sure I was answering them, but all I could see was him. In moments of bravery, I would look at him outright, only to see his dark eyes burning into mine. His expression seemed to waver between confused and frustrated, but his eyes were always there. And they were watching me, studying me, making me deliciously uncomfortable. And then the bell rang.

I rose reluctantly, following his lanky, beautiful form with my eyes as he gracefully collected his things and was out the door before anyone else. I wished I had followed him. Wished I would see him again. Wished…

"Bella, didn't you say you had biology next?" I was brought back to earth by the small, dark girl who had defended the Cullens earlier. Biology? What's biology. I blinked a couple of times and nodded. Biology. Right. "Well, that's my next class, too. I'll walk with you if you like." I nodded again. It was the best I could do until I could convince my brain to start working again. "I'm Angela," she reminded me helpfully.

Leading me to the appropriate building, I realized that Angela was just as shy as I was. I warmed to her immediately. We made friendly small talk, discussing the teacher and what the class had covered so far, her hands constantly fidgeting with her jacket, her face protected behind her straight brown hair. She was tall and nervous and shy and I liked her.

We reached the room, hanging our jackets, and Angela proceeded to her lab table, giving me a small smile as she walked away. I watched her sit, hoping she would have an empty seat next to her, disappointed as I realized that every table looked full but one. I turned to the teacher, Mr. Banner according to the embroidery on his lab coat, and had him sign my slip. He handed me a text book and syllabus, sending me on my way, pointing to the empty table.

"You can partner with Mr. Cullen," he said before turning to the board to begin the day's lecture.

Mr. Cullen.

My heart stopped.

Mr. Cullen.

My brain stopped.

Mr. Cullen.

My body froze.

A giggle next to me snapped me out of it. I was standing in the front of the room like an idiot. Get moving, Swan. Keep it together. With great effort, I taught my legs to move again, one foot in front of the other, and I was walking, my head down, my eyes to the floor, willing myself not to trip, not to look any more like an ass than I already did. I was two tables away, then one… and then I was there. I placed my things on the flat black surface and looked up.

Mr. Cullen.

Edward Cullen.

There he sat.

And he looked furious.

And I was terrified.

And I was in love.

A/N: I know, I suck. I always felt like what happened in bio was too important not to have its own chapter, so I'm going to give it one. Please review. I'll write you some smut if you do. Scout's honor.