Chapter 2

We made it to Charlie's quicker than I expected. I must have been day dreaming, watching Forks as we drove through it. That seemed to happen a lot lately, or just in general. Getting consumed by my thoughts. Maybe it was a good thing, being more introspective or something.

The truck was one of the first things I saw when we pulled up, the other being the house which looked exactly the same as it always had. The truck was faded red and had big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cap. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it. I was right about it having character. It was something I could see myself driving no problem, it just fit me. Plus, it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged - the kind you see at the scene of an accident, paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed.

"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!" I ran over to it the moment I jumped out of his car, running my hands across the hood and sending a spray of water droplets to the ground.

I hadn't really acknowledged it, but I've been dreading the thought of school. Particularly showing up in a police car. This took a weight off my chest I didn't even know I had.

"I'm glad you like it." Charlie coughed, looking away with red cheeks. I laughed under my breath, going to the trunk to grab my things. He insisted on holding a few of my things, even though it wasn't particularly heavy.

It only took a single trip to get me situated in my room. It was the west bedroom that faced the front yard, and It had been mine since I was a kid. The inside hadn't changed in the least, and gave me unfamiliar pangs of nostalgia. Renée tended to throw things away that I didn't need anymore, like childhood stuff, but Dad held onto things. My room was still full of memories I didn't even know I still had. The wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellowed lace curtains around the window - these were all a part of my childhood. The only differences were that he had switched the crib for a bed, and gotten me a desk. It had the barest technological necessities— an old school MacBook computer and a home phone. I hadn't seen a home phone in years.

I silently thanked any deity that I'd brung my iPhone. It wasn't the newest phone by any means, and Forks wasn't known for its outstanding WiFi, but I'd manage. I wasn't known for being addicted to technology, anyway. I've never been an avid social media person. Instagram, Snapchat, and Facebook were all deleted from my phone by the time I realized they weren't my area of expertise. The only thing I actually had an account on was twitter, which I maintained an anonymous presence on to keep up with a few old acquaintances and to follow the news— political stuff and global issues. Even then it gave me a headache.

Still, everyone likes to play a good old game of angry birds once and a while.

There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact.

One of the greatest thing about Charlie is that he doesn't hover, and the moment I was unpacked up he left me to settle in. This was a feat that would have been completely impossible for my mother. I stared out at the rainy window, wondering silently how tomorrow would turn out.

Tomorrow I would be starting my senior year at Forks High School. It was a scary thought. Mainly because I had gotten comfortable with how things were at my old school. My old friends, even if we weren't close, were familiar to me. Now I had to start all over. It was probably nothing to worry about, but I've always gone to a huge public school. Forks High had a grand total of three hundred or so students, and I've just been added to the list. Coming from such a large school I could only imagine how things might be different.

Will people pay closer attention to me? Will I learn everyone's names? Make any friends? Or will I be a complete outsider, simply because I hadn't grown up alongside them? If I couldn't find my niche in a school of three thousand people, what's my likelihood of finding one in a school with three hundred? I had a feeling that Forks High didn't get many new students. Maybe the people would be rude and close-minded, or maybe they would be welcoming. It's a bit of a lottery, I suppose. I can only hope for the best.

I didn't plan to bring much attention to myself, anyway. I just want to get this year over with to be honest. I'd gone through three years of highschool already and enough embarrassing scenarios to fill a book. Was I really going to sit here and have the same fears I had in freshman year? You'd think I would have grown past them.

My twisting stomach eventually ceased after several deep and calming breathes. I clutched my arm with my nails, leaving red crescent marks that distracted me from the panic making my heart twist and turn and jump.

Eventually, after ruminating on these thoughts for an indecipherable amount of time, I laid down on my bed and felt surer of myself and this new change in my life.

I resolved to not mind the fact that I'm probably going to awkwardly bumble my way through the first day of this new school. There really was no stopping it, and no reason to worry so much. If I didn't make any friends, then that wouldn't be anything new or unexpected. It was just high school. Something momentarily a big deal, and when I look back on it I'll feel stupid for ever worrying anyways.

When night finally came to Forks, crickets, cicadas, frogs, and other night creatures sang in the wet forests. The rained drizzled in a calming and constant way. It was a beautiful lullaby, and I was tired, so even with doubts in my mind I fell asleep almost immediately.

Forks really was a different world.

Breakfast the next morning was strangely peaceful. Charlie didn't keep many ingredients, but he did have eggs. After opening only a few yellow cabinets that I vaguely remembered my mom painted many years ago to bring sunshine into the house. I found the pan and made a liberal pile of scrambled eggs that easily fed both me and my Dad. He didn't have pepper for some reason, and it was too much to hope that he would have any other seasoning. I would have to go to the grocery soon. We sat at the oak table on one of the three mismatched chairs, and I examined the dark panels of the walls. Everything was the same as I remembered. It was reassuring as much as it was disconcerting, like walking around in my own memories.

Charlie left before me, wishing me good luck at school, and went off to do police work. He was a great police chief from what I heard, and I believe it with every fragment of my soul. If there was one thing I knew about my dad, it was that he was an incredibly dedicated individual.

I donned my jacket - which had the feel of a biohazard suit -and headed out into the rain. I'd always liked the rain. It brings a weird sort of feeling with it, making me strangely grounded and sure of myself. Like an old friend patting me on the back.

The mud wasn't nearly as fun, even as I had a childish urge to jump in it. It was so different from the hard dirt and gravel I was used to, that I was half afraid I would sink right into the earth. It stuck to my rain boots, and I groaned while hoping that the school had a welcome mat I could wipe my feet on. They must if they don't want kids tracking mud through the halls. Maybe they just have very dedicated janitors? Charming.

Inside the truck it was nice and dry, and the bottom had a plastic covering that helpfully kept my boots from spreading dirt everywhere. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started quickly, to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus that I hadn't expected

I pat the truck with a grin, whispering a quiet 'good old red reliable' under my breath when it started playing an upbeat jazz song that I couldn't quite place. I silently thought that me and this truck were bound to be great friends in the future, and resolutely ignored how absolutely ridiculous my thoughts were. It was arguably a very pleasant start to my morning.

Finding the school was hilariously simple. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It wasn't obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. It certainly gave off a very different vibe then my previous school, and was distinctly missing the chain link fences and metal detectors. Just another thing to add to the list of quirks in this place.

It turned out I didn't have to wipe my feet, because the mud turned hard on my boots during the ride and when I stomped on the concrete a few times it crumbled off. I made my way to a promising building with a sign announcing "Office" over head, and figured it was my best chance.

Inside it was warmer than I'd hoped, and I was glad to be in an environment slightly more familiar to me. Well, familiar was an exaggeration— the office was small and there was a strange abundance of plants even inside. Still, I made my way over to the office staff, a red-headed woman with glasses and a purple shirt.

The red-haired woman looked up upon noticing me. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Isabelle Swan, I just moved here." Her eyes seemed to spark in recognition, which made me feel both relieved and a little uncomfortable. I silently hoped that not everyone would know who I was upon hearing my name. Gossip was not my skill point.

"Of course." She said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.

She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and I smiled back, grateful for the easy help.

When I went back out to my truck I noticed a larger abundance of cars that could only be students arriving, and noted that most of the cars were a lot like mine — rustic, I suppose. Nothing to flashy, which I silently appreciated. At home I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me.

After a few deep breathes and a small pep talk in my head, I stumbled out of my truck and began to head towards the school with the other students.

Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A largeblack "3" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I walked leisurely down the cracked sidewalk, curiously observing the vines and grasses that seemed to peek out of every hole and crevice. The brick of the building was old and red, and I decided I liked it that way. I kept walking, following two unisex raincoats through the door.

The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde, the other also pale, with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn't be a standout here.

I took the slip of paper up to the teacher, a tall, balding man with the name plate of 'Mr. Mason'. A simple name that I hoped I would remember. When he read my name his eyes widened and he gawked, which made me extraordinarily uncomfortable. It seemed like my hopes of going under the radar today would be dashed, which gave me a feeling comparable to the floor crumbling beneath me. I gave a grimace of a smile in response, and was silently glad that he hadn't made me introduce myself. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. Some stuff I've covered before, some I hadn't. I actually liked Shakespeare last year and a few others, so I hoped it would be just the same here. It was a lot of things I'd gone over before which I was eternally grateful for.

When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.

"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He asked in an upbeat and clear voice. He seemed like the type to be in a lot of clubs, which I admired. Probably because I was hopelessly introverted.

"Mhm! I go by Bella, actually." I did my best to smile at him, and silently hoped I didn't look like an ass. I noticed that a few people around us turned to look at me. Weird. Then again, small town people could be strange from what I've heard.

"Where's your next class?" He tilted his head like a puppy-dog, still wearing a large grin on his face.

I ruffled around in my bag for my schedule, eventually turning back to say, "Um, Government. Jefferson in building... six."

There seemed to be a lot of curious eyes turned towards me, all of which I ignored.

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way..." he scratches his neck and pointed down the hall, "I'm Eric," he added.

I smiled tentatively, pleasantly surprised by his helpfulness. I wasn't one to turn down a helping hand if offered, when it often wasn't. "Thanks."

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. There were several other students close behind us, and for a moment it almost felt like Arizona. Just... with a lot less people. Another thing I could appreciate was the lack of traffic in the hallways.

"Sooooo..." Eric did a little hop in his step to adjust his backpack. "This is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?"

My eyes darted to him and I barely suppressed a groan. Looks like my story had gotten around, because I am completely certain I hadn't told Eric I was from Arizona. My hopes of not making any splash in this place were dashed. Then again, I suppose these people didn't have that much interesting happen much, so a new student was a big deal. In any case it would die down soon enough.

"Yep." I popped the p, turning my head to the window on our left that displayed a visage of green foliage blurred by water droplets. "Way different."

He leaned back to look out the window, smirking. "Doesn't rain much there, does it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Three or four times a year."

Eric blinked. "Wow, what must that be like?" He wondered.

"Sunny." I deadpanned, which drew a short snort from him.

"You don't look tan!" He retorted.

I stopped walking, turning to him with a very serious and earnest look that managed to stop him in his tracks as well. "My mother was part albino."

Eric stumbles, looking lost for words, and I finally chuckled. Apparently clouds and a sense of humor don't mix. He gapes at my laugh, before lightly flicking my shoulder.

"Don't mess with me like that! You Arizonians are another species."

We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.

"Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful.

I smiled at him vaguely. This guy actually seemed okay. I just hoped the rest of the students were as nice.

The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I'm not a great public speaker, and ended up just saying. "I'm Bella. Swan." then silently walked back to my seat to avoid the prying eyes of my classmates.

After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. It was weird that everyone wanted to talk to me, but I tried to reply politely to all of them. Mostly just saying how it was really "different here" using adjectives like rainy and green. Nothing they didn't know. I'm not exactly sure what they want from me. Entertainment? I'm not a great entertainer.

One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. Her name was Jessica, and she talked enough for the both of us. I just nodded and smiled when needed. That seemed to be enough for her. We're very different people, that was certain.

Everyone seemed nice, and it was interesting talking to people with a different perspective. The people here were more open then the ones in Arizona, and some of them were more genuine. Others were shallow, from what I could pick up, and seemed overly interested in drama, dates, and other things that I didn't have much of an opinion on. It was hard to keep track of all of their names, but by lunch I was sitting with seven other people.

It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first noticed them. An odd table in the corner of the room full of students I hadn't met in any of my other classes. They were a mismatched sort, I could tell, even with only seeing the backs of their heads.

The table was littered with an odd array of food— two apples, a banana opened upside down, and a block of unopened cheese. A few cans of unopened soda. It strikes me odd.

It was a bit intriguing, sure, but I wasn't really invested until the smallest one got up- a girl. The small girl rose with her tray -unopened soda, unbitten apple- and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer's step, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible. I caught a glimpse of her face, and my lungs lost their breath. She was... beautiful. There really was no other word for it. Pixie-like, thin in the extreme, with small features. Big lashes that framed onyx-black eyes, they had dark circles under them that somehow didn't detract from her beauty. Her lips were pulled into an absent (although tight-lipped) smile. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction. She looked like she had hopped right out of a Tim Burton movie.

My attention sluggishly returned to my lunch table after her departure.

"—but she thought that my leggings were too tight. She literally basically called me a whore! In front of the whole class!" One girl at my table was ranting about... something.

I tapped the girl next to me, Angela I think, who was patiently listening to the girls rant.

She turned to me, eyes wide and questioning. I nodded my head in the direction of the mystery girl's table. "Who are they?"

"Oh... the Cullens, you mean?"

The girl from my Spanish class, Jessica the Gossiper, brightened at the name.

Jessica immediately began blabbering. "That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breath.

My eyebrows raised in involuntary surprise. I thought they were just a bizarre group of friends, not that they were living under the same roof.

One of the boys at the table looked at his tray, seeming to mumble under his breath. At least I thought he was, since his mouth was moving, granted at a very fast pace. The others weren't looking at him, but seemed to have thoughtful expressions. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was talking to them. I shook my head and looked away, realizing I was paying a weird amount of attention to detail.

The names were a bit strange, I thought. Small town names I suppose. Then again, none of the other kids seemed to have strange names. Maybe just a quirk of the family. Now that I was looking they did share a few similarities, if only because they were all strangely attractive for small town teenagers. Particularly the girls, who seemed straight out of a magazine.

"Their all very... pretty?" I tried, attempting not to sound like a complete creep. I was too curious not to pose the question, I could only hope I wasn't being rude.

My concerns turned unfounded at Jessica's response.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed with a giggle. "They're all together though." Her eyes widened and she leaned closer, like she was sharing a great secret. "Like, together together. Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together." Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip. The strangest thing was that I didn't feel disturbed so much as... disappointed. That beautiful girl who twirled out of the room entered my thoughts, before I blinked and shut her out.

Angela shakes her head ruefully. "Jessica, c'mon, no one actually knows that. It's not like they announce their relationship, they just act close. Well, maybe Emmett and Rosalie are a thing but only because we've seen them kiss... the rest is gossip and conjecture." She rolled her eyes. It was the most I'd ever heard her say, and it made me smile. I feel almost relieved, for whatever reason.

I shook myself out of my thoughts. "Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related..."

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins - the blondes - and they're foster children."

I nodded, a bit relieved that it wasn't all incestuous. That would be really... yikes.

"They're a bit old to be foster children, aren't they?" I wondered.

Jessica shrugged, taking a sip of her milk carton."They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

I smiled, taking a thoughtful bite of my chicken salad. "That's really kind of nice - for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything."

"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though," she added, as if that lessened their kindness.

I inwardly shook my head, almost laughing. Jessica really didn't like these people. I decided then and there that they were just fine in my book.

"Did they always live in Forks?" I would have thought that I'd have noticed them on one of my summer trips here. Then again, I hadn't ever met these other kids. Just people on the Rez mostly.

Jessica looked mildly scandalized. "No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

I looked back over at the strange family, a smile curling my lips. Well, at least I wasn't the only new arrival. Although they didn't seem to be adjusting very well. I pursed my lips in thought. Did they feel like outsiders? They seemed to want to stick together. I hoped no one was being overly mean to them. These people may be nice to me, but I haven't given them much to work with blackmail wise. I'll just have to be nice to them when I could.

When I looked back I caught the boy with reddish hair looking at me with a scrunched expression, as though frustrated, and it occurred to me that they may have been hoping that the new arrival wouldn't be as judgmental as the people here. I felt my face heat up, suddenly embarrassed by my stalker-ish interest in them, and gave... Edward? Yeah, Edward a smile and a friendly wave.

He seemed mildly shocked by this, and gave me one more glance before turning back to the wall. When I looked back at my table, Jessica was gaping at me.

"What? He was looking at me." I justified, frowning.

"Well," Jessica behinds haughtily, "No one talks to the Cullens, just so you know." She looked me up and down (like a mean girl, the Renée in my mind supplies). "Don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd turned her down.

I wrinkled my nose at the implication that I liked him, annoyed by the assumption. I hadn't thought that at all, I just wanted to be friendly. I didn't say anything, but I also ignored Jessica for the rest of lunch. Instead turning to Eric to chat about the weather.

After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful - even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. Although not as much as the pixie girl, who I presumed was Alice. Alice was a very nice name. The one named Edward didn't look at me again.