Jules didn't really pay attention to the staring on her first day of American high school. She was too sleepy to really care, dragging herself out of bed and forcing herself to pull on the first things she could out of the wardrobe she had spent most of Sunday unpacking at last. Most of her clothes were from the vintage stores and flea markets she had been obsessed with since childhood in Paris, a lover of all things quirky and aged. This time she had donned a dark grey Keith Richards t-shirt with pink bold letters spelling out 'JE NE REGRETTE RIEN' around his pink bust, tucked into faded 501s. She was more proud of herself for being coherent enough to pick a pink vintage Dior coat to match her t-shirt than she was anything else.

If her outfit wasn't loud enough in a town where most people wore hiking gear as fashion, she certainly did not help the staring with her grand entrance- skating into the parking lot of Forks High on a pair of bright blue retro skates with vivid yellow laces and yellow wheels to match. She looked perfectly unfazed, the chilly wind flowing through her hair, biting into half-eaten multigrain bagel with a stainless steel tumbler of coffee in her other hand. Earphones flowed down from her gold pierced ears, blasting Rebel Rebel loud enough that the teenagers she whizzed past could catch a muffled guitar flare.

Jules didn't come to a stop until she'd reached an empty bench, her bagel finished as she daintily wiped her lips of any crumbs before making quick work of swapping her skates for dark brown loafers. And then she was off, her skates flung by their tied-together laces over her tall shoulder, the same one that sported her hand-painted backpack. She continued to sip her drink as she rushed, making sure her stride was too fast for anyone to try to speak to her, the earphones and loud music a clear message that matched the look in her eyes- I'm not in the mood.

And yet, like magic, her expression shifted entirely as she entered the small reception of the administrative building, poor Mrs Cope doing a double take. "Bonjour! Is this where I am supposed to pick up my schedule?"

"Oh! Oh yes, you must be Miss Rowe, we've been expecting you." Mrs Cope jumped into action, flustered as the amused brunette ventured further into the room and up to the desk, setting her coffee down on the counter. Forcibly, she kept the smile stretched upon her lips. Always stay in the good books of the receptionist. The greying stout woman flittered through stacks of paper, clearly in a state. "Most of our students came and picked up their schedules and books last week during orientation, so the good news is you won't have to wait any lines. Aha! That's where that went."

"Right, Juliette Elizabeth Rowe. Sixteen years old?" Mrs Cope returned with a bright smile.

"August the 22nd, 1986." Jules confirmed with a nod. "I hope all the paperwork is in order, I did request for English translations but I'm not sure how they came out."

"Oh it's all fine dear." Mrs Cope waved off, starting to set out paper after paper. "Now, this here is a map of the school, I've marked out a code over the classes you've signed up for, and I wrote them out on your schedule. Hopefully you won't get lost- it's not all that big but you never know. This here is your schedule, you'll start every day at homeroom, that's here, with Mister Berty. He's one of the English teachers here, he'll be yours for this year. This is where your locker is, I've marked it down as L on the map. Here's the number, and here's the combination. Now, very important, I need each of your teachers to sign this and I need you to bring it here at the end of today. If you need anything else don't hesitate to come back right here and I'll help you out, alright?"

"I think I've got it, thank you so much Mrs Cope." Jules absorbs all the information as best as she can as the kind woman beams again at her. "Have a wonderful day."

"You too dear- Welcome to Forks!"

Jules was quite grateful that the woman hadn't offered her condolences, half expecting it by this point as she returned the earphones to her ears and pressed play on the heavy square iPod in her coat pocket once more, making her way down the crowded corridors with her map in hand. It wasn't hard to find her locker, helpfully close to her homeroom class. She dumped her skates inside, along with half of the textbooks Charlie had been helpful enough to pick up for her the week before. She checked what she would need for the first half of her school day before lunch, and off she went just before a short blond boy could approach her.

Mister Berty was a short unimpressive man with dark grey hair and his nose up in the air as she entered his classroom. Jules could see that this man looked as annoyed on the outside as she did on the inside at the rowdy teenagers chattering away, though his beady eyes turned to her and seemed to light up. Unfortunately- so had the rest of the class, turning seemingly in tandem like a creepy hive mind species, setting Jules' nerves on fire as she briefly froze halfway through her stride in the open doorway. So this is what people in horror movies feel like.

She took one earphone out, smiling briefly at the man in the grey suit at his desk as she offered him the slip Mrs Cope had warned her about. "Ah yes, our new foreign student…Miss Rowe, was it?"

"I'm half-American sir, but sure." Jules fought a snort at his haughty condescending tone, signing her slip slower than necessary as if inspecting it for fraud. She tried desperately not to squint at him.

"Juliette Rowe." He tests on his tongue. "Were your parents fans of Shakespeare?"

"Not particularly." She dismisses casually, used to this reference. "My grandfather was named Jules, I was named after him."

"How unfortunate." His tone flattens, displeased. Jules furrowed her eyebrows. "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Oh! How rude of me. I did not check if you would struggle with English, should you need any help at all Miss Rowe, I would be happy to tutor-"

"Thank you." She cuts off the man before he can offer his creepy leering services. "But I am quite proficient at Literature, and I'm fluent in English despite my accent."

"How proficient?" He squints. "Favourite prose?"

"The Great Gatsby, Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings."

"Plays?"

"A Streetcar Named Desire, Pygmalion, Uncle Vanya." She recites with ease off the top of her head.

"Hmm." He seemed annoyed that she had passed his little test so fluidly. Jules fought the urge to smirk. Tiny little man. "Take a seat Miss Rowe."

"Sir." She nods politely, slipping her earphone back in as she collected the signed slip, stuffing it into her coat pocket as she dodged between desks and found an empty one at the back, setting her coffee tumbler down in front of her as she let her bag drop to the ground.

The girl sat directly in front of her swivelled around, her face spread into a mirthful grin as she stuck out a hand for a fistbump. "Okay you are my new favourite superhero, I've never seen him that mad in my life. Ella Moore."

"Jules Rowe." Jules bumped her fist with amusement, using her other hand to tug out one of her earphones. The girl was pretty, and Jules found it entertaining how easily she could muster what stereotype of American High School clique she fit into by her mere appearance, just like in the movies. Her eyes swept over the sports hoodie she would not be caught dead in outside of her house, a pair of clearly worn running trainers adorning her feet. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek high ponytail that Jules classified with volleyball, highlighting her strong bone structure and flawless mocha skin. She was easily taller than Jules, something she had not expected. Definitely a volleyball player.

"Yeah I heard." Ella dismissed the formalities, unwittingly slipping herself into Jules' good books. "Actually, I can't stop hearing. People kinda won't shut up about you skating into school this morning, you'd think you were a celebrity or something."

"Or something." Jules hummed, sipping more coffee. "I apologize- you seem nice, I'm just not awake enough to be pleasant."

"And you are now my new best friend." Ella jokes, turning to take a pen out of her pencil case before returning to face Jules, uncaringly plucking the latter's wrist as Jules raised an eyebrow, drinking more coffee as the American girl pushed back her coat sleeve enough to scrawl a number along her pale wrist. "If I don't see you until lunch, text me. You can sit with me and my friends, I promise a gossip-free environment."

"Tempting." Jules answered, still too mournful of the warm bed she had left behind to be more witty. "Wait- that mad in your life? Aren't you a freshman too?"

"My mom's the school nurse." Ella rolls her eyes. "And he lives down the street, so I literally can't escape him. I swear that man's out to get me, like he'll for sure be the reason I go all Jeffrey Dahmer and commit small town murder."

"My Uncle's a cop, I can bail you out." Jules offered amused. "And if he says no I can hatch an escape plan."

"I knew I liked you. I have good instincts, you're cool shit Frenchie."

"Enjoying patting yourself on the back there?"

And so Jules had made her first ever American friend.