"Does Forks have a theater program?" Sarah asked Mike as he walked with her to government the next day. Apparently the two shared more classes than Sarah had realized. Eric seemed put out by the fact, but she'd made sure to smile at him. No sense in alienating people if she could help it, right? Mike glanced at her curiously as though wondering where the question had come from.

"Nah. I heard when the old theater teacher here retired a few years back there was never a replacement," Mike replied.

"Why not?" Sarah asked, genuine curiosity shining through her expression. The idea of there not being any kind of program was unthinkable, at least for her. Even as worried as she'd been for what Forks would be like, Sarah never imagined she'd live somewhere she couldn't act. She thought everywhere had a theater program.

"Not much interest, I guess?" came the response and Sarah could tell Mike himself wasn't interested. In fact, she could almost see him formulating other topics to shift the conversation to, despite Sarah not being done with her line of questioning. "The program had been failing for years. There is still the old auditorium behind building five, though. Some kids go there to skip class. It's not a bad place to hang out…."

"There is?" Sarah's excitement was immediate, though she entirely missed what Mike was trying to imply. Already ideas had started bouncing around her brain, a sign that she was quickly growing comfortable here. "In that case, why hasn't anyone made a theater club? If there haven't been any plays for a while, I bet the whole town could get behind it. We might even get sponsors." It hadn't taken her long to start planning, bouncing a little on her feet as she walked.

"You'd have to get people to join." Mike clearly had his share of misgivings about the idea and a complete lack of enthusiasm. Sarah didn't let that stop her.

"You wouldn't join a theater club?" she asked with a sideways glance. Though aware that she was pushing her luck, any chance of getting back on stage would be worth it to try. Mike's expression looked torn.

"I might…." he conceded as they reached the classroom. Sarah smiled at him.

"It's worth a try," she said. "Besides, who doesn't want a chance to be someone else? To experience what their lives and adventures would be like, even for just a few hours." Mike glanced over at her.

"Be someone else?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow. "Why would you want to? To me it seems like Bella Swan is already pretty amazing." It was all Sarah could do not to laugh in his face. She hadn't meant to be mean, of course, but she had no way of explaining why his kind words had her snickering helplessly. Finally—once she finished laughing—Sarah smiled and thanked him. He meant well, she was sure.

Sarah hadn't expected her idea to catch on so quickly. Though Mike agreed readily enough—if, she suspected, more out of an interest in pleasing her than in theater—Sarah expected the rest of her new friends to take more convincing. In the class period before lunch, Sarah even wrote out a quick speech to get the support she needed to turn her idea into a reality, but it was unnecessary. The prospect was enthusiastically received by everyone, especially when Sarah mentioned the people who didn't want to act would still have important roles backstage. Though some of the questions she was asked made Sarah think most of her classmates were more interested in the transfer student and her wacky new idea than love for the stage, Sarah would take what she could get.

Between getting the school approval, recruiting new members and finding a staff supervisor, Sarah barely had a chance to notice that Edward Cullen was not in school. It only did occur to her that he was gone when she reached biology every day and had the luxury of stretching out across the full table. Edward must have gotten his transfer after all. Beyond that, she was determined not to think about her former tablemate or his violent dislike of her. Admittedly though, it would have been nice to have a seatmate to discuss her answers with. Her writing was strong and her stint in the Labyrinth had helped to hone her logic skills. Science was the only subject that felt beyond her grasp. How was it possible to understand the fundamental laws of the universe when she had seen them broken time and time again? Then again, perhaps not having Edward as a distraction worked out in her favor.

And thus, Sarah's first week in Forks flew by. Not since Jareth had unfairly stolen those two hours from her had she known time to slip away so fast. It was even better that it was fun and friends—not magic—which caused the time to move so quickly. Her newfound friendships paled in comparison to her feelings for Hoggle or Ludo, but real human warmth was the thing Sarah believed she needed. Was it that the people in Forks were so sheltered they considered eccentricity as a virtue rather than a flaw? Or, perhaps, were they all a little odd themselves? Either way, Sarah started to believe she could really fit in here. She could make this into a home.

There had not been a single sign of Jareth since arriving in Forks either, something Sarah was thankful for, though it had not completely removed her paranoia. Every morning she woke with a start and searched her room for him, but he was never there. Her first impression of Jareth had cemented him as unearthly capable, and the fact that she'd been able to outwit him seemed more implausible than she was comfortable with. Even more than beating the Labyrinth, Sarah thought true escape impossible. Was he searching for her? Sarah didn't know which answer she would have been happier with. If he was looking, it meant this freedom of hers would eventually come to an end. If he wasn't… well, didn't that mean he didn't care? As complicated as her feelings were towards Jareth, she didn't want him not to care.

On the night that it first began snowing, Sarah sat on the front steps, watching it all come down. Snow had always seemed magical to her, the way the white blanket slowly covered everything and the way even sounds held themselves in quiet reverence at the sight. That didn't mean she didn't know how dangerous it could be, leaving her sitting outside waiting for Charlie to come home safely. He did.

"Hey Charlie," Sarah asked him that night as they were finishing up their burgers, "you have snow chains right?" He glanced up at her and then out the window, seeming surprised at the rate of the falling snow. "It's supposed to freeze tonight." And trying to drive that monster of a truck over ice, Sarah already felt her life flashing before her eyes. Charlie nodded.

"Sure thing, Bells," he replied, getting up from the table to go look for them. Sarah grinned at the name. It had taken him some time, but now Charlie never thought twice when calling her Bella. Even if it wasn't her real name, Sarah loved when he called her that. It had a way of making her feel at home, like she really did belong here. Charlie felt more like her father in the past week than her own father had in seventeen and a half years. As Sarah was finishing clearing the table, Charlie returned, snow chains in hand.

"Thank you so much," she said, relief already settling on her shoulders. Between the unfamiliar streets, cold temperature and her own strange bouts of clumsiness, Sarah wasn't about to take any chances.

"Need help?" Charlie offered in his usual manner, never using more words than he needed. Sarah shook her head.

"It's alright, I've done it before," she assured him. Charlie didn't seem convinced until he watched her put them on. Perhaps she did an imperfect job (Charlie did turn down her offer to do his cruiser too) but she'd managed. Independence had been a necessary skill for her to learn. Though Charlie wouldn't say it, Sarah knew he was impressed.

Though supposedly from Arizona, the increasingly cold weather didn't slow Sarah down. She continued to thrive. If anyone had been paying close enough attention, it would have been obvious that Sarah was better equipped for snow than someone of her background ought to have been, but no one was. The people in Forks accepted her as she was; her and every one of her lies. Maybe she got a little too comfortable. When the boys called out and asked if she was interested in a snowball fight, her answer had been to lob a snowball at them before taking shelter behind her truck. They were all ten minutes late to class, dripping wet and with a warning that next time they'd have detention, but it had been worth it. Even the bruises from the countless falls Sarah had taken were something to be proud of rather than ashamed.

"So," Sarah said as she sat down and took a quick bite of her pizza at lunch that day, "we need to decide on a play." There was a hum of agreement from those collected around her and Sarah was thrilled to see interest in the theater club had mostly held strong. Some people had drifted away as the initial novelty wore off, but Sarah still captured the attention of plenty of people as she began pulling books out of her bag. Seeing how limited their knowledge of plays was, Sarah had taken the liberty of raiding her personal bookshelf and fanned them out across the lunch table for her friends to explore. She, herself, easily snagged up a couple and for each one she gave her very best sales pitch. For the first time in a long time, Sarah felt like she was in her element. Holding a copy of Hamlet as she discussed the play with her neighbor, she was certain that nothing could bring her down. At least, not until a voice from a bit farther down the table chirped up.

"What about this one?" Looking up from her conversation, Sarah gave a passing glance at the book Lauren was holding. All at once her smile froze and the blood drained from Sarah's face. She didn't remember putting that book into her bag when she'd grabbed suggestions this morning. Honestly, Sarah didn't remember packing it to take with her to Forks at all. In fact, Sarah distinctly remembered tossing the book out on her return from the Labyrinth… so why was it here? Rising dread choked her, even as she tried to voice some kind of objection. The others didn't notice.

"What's it about?" one asked, making Sarah's heart rate increase even more. No. No, no, no! This couldn't be happening. Of all the more than twenty plays on the table, they couldn't be choosing that one.

"Apparently it's to do with a princess who has to solve a maze to save her brother from the evil Goblin King." Seeing the interest peaking on the faces of her friends, Sarah already knew it was too late. She couldn't fault them for being interested, it had always been her favorite for a reason. And what was she supposed to tell them if she claimed they couldn't do it? Any mention of what she'd gone through and she'd no longer be charmingly eccentric; she'd be insane. Her hands shook as she took the plays back. If anything happened or if the goblins were called because of this, it would be her fault. But it was too late now, she could tell by the way they were talking that nothing could make them change their minds. Putting her foot down would be the end of the theater club.

"This is unfair," Sarah mumbled to herself, before realizing what she'd said and feeling even more dread. It was okay. She was going to be okay. After all, it was just a play, and it wasn't as though it even said the words that summoned Jareth anyway. If she had to, Sarah could always edit the final script to be sure. Her mind was full of this, and only this, when she was jolted out of her thoughts by a voice at her ear.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jessica whispered, as if she was purposely trying to add more anxiety to Sarah's day. Jareth—even absent—was already a big enough pain in the neck, she didn't need another right now. Yet, Sarah still pulled her attention away from the black hole of her own panic-inspired thoughts to look over toward the Cullen table.

"What?" Sarah asked before processing what her eyes were telling her. "He's not even…." But, there he was. Sarah's gaze met Edward's and her voice failed her. This time she broke the eye contact first, dropping her head to the lunch table with a loud 'thunk'. "It's so not fair."

The walk to biology was short as always, and Sarah hovered by Angela's table, one eye on the door. The later it got, the more she let herself relax. Hadn't he transferred out of the class anyway? Eventually she sat down and spread her things out like she had done all last week, convincing herself that she was right. While she waited for class to start, Sarah pulled out her purple folder of theater club documents and grabbed a blank piece of paper. She paused. Sarah knew she was supposed to be writing down a cast list and dates of auditions and so on, but her pen hovered above the paper uselessly. As far as the cast list, first she'd have to write down his name, right? No, nothing had been decided for sure. Slowly Sarah started writing down a list of alternative plays and brainstorming objections she could use to push for a new selection. Her mind was entirely focused on this when there was a light scraping of the chair next to her. Sarah sighed quietly, but tried to ignore it.

"Hello," came a voice to her left. Sarah started and had to look up quickly since she almost didn't recognize it. Had she been wrong and someone else transferred to the class in Edward's place? No, though it was the first time she'd heard his voice, Sarah knew it belonged to Edward. It was the kind of melodic, pleasing tone that fit perfectly with his handsome, pleasing face. The problem was… it didn't sound hostile and his expression was open and friendly, at least on the outside. Somehow, that made her more uneasy.

"Hi," she replied hesitantly. Shyness was unnatural for Sarah, but something about his eyes made her uncomfortable. She couldn't keep eye contact with him for very long, dropping hers back down to the table in defeat.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he said. In spite of her dread, discomfort and defeat, Sarah began to laugh.

"I know who you are," she said, shaking her head and chancing another glance at him. "Everyone knows who you are." Sarah didn't believe for a second that Edward—or any one of the Cullens—didn't know their infamy. They had to know how they were talked about by the rest of the school. She wasn't about to buy any kind of false modesty. "I'm…."

"Bella Swan," Edward said, lips twitching as though fighting a smirk. "Everyone knows you too."

"Ah… right." Again Sarah found herself feeling overwhelmed. A week ago in the office she had trembled under his hateful gaze…. Why was it now—when his eyes showed nothing but politeness—she wanted to cower even more? This friendly nature, Sarah didn't trust it. She broke eye contact again, this time noticing his posture. He had pulled away from her as far as the table would allow. So much for not being a jerk. "I don't have cooties, you know," Sarah commented with a roll of her eyes, no longer feeling overwhelmed. Not so polite after all. Edward looked surprised.

"What?" he asked, brow furrowing. Sarah gestured to the space between them, noticing he also tensed up a little more as her hand shifted towards him. Her eyebrow rose.

"Just look at you. Any closer to the wall and you'd start melting into it. Either you think I stink…" Sarah noticed a twinkle in Edward's eyes as she said this, as though he were in on a private joke. She was not amused. "Or you think I have cooties." Looking over at him expectantly, Sarah noticed he was at a loss for words. She hadn't expected an explanation, so she just sighed.

"Oh. I didn't realize." Sarah rolled her eyes again. She was doing that a lot lately. It would have been impossible for him not to notice, the position was uncomfortable at the very least and obviously forced. She turned away again before having to look back as he scooted millimeters closer.

"You didn't have to do that." The befuddlement on his face left Sarah smirking lightly. "You also don't have to talk to me, you know. We may be sitting together, but if you've made up your mind to hate me, you can keep doing that if you want." This was worse than what Sarah had expected for today. She'd expected the same as before: tense annoyance. At least with that she'd known what to think and how to react. But, between her panic before and her fear that Jareth would pop up if she so much as said the word 'Labyrinth', Sarah was not in the mood to deal with Edward's constantly shifting persona.

"You are a very confusing person, Bella Swan," he remarked finally, not moving back away again and his lips twitching at the sides as though he was fighting a smile. "And a hard one to read."

"Maybe you're too easily confused, Edward Cullen," she retorted. Admittedly, though Sarah thought she was prepared to be senselessly hated, she found herself fighting a smile of her own. No matter how much preparation, she didn't want to be hated by anyone. As frustrating as the change was, there was something nice about it. Maybe it was the strange feeling of familiarity that hovered around Edward, causing her guard to slowly fall.

The teacher chose that moment to begin class and the chatter died down. Sarah made sure to pay attention, though her mind did drift between Edward and Jareth occasionally. One thought left her with a pleasant kind of confusion, while the other was nothing but dread. Dread… and maybe anticipation. Still, at the moment both seemed equally problematic and worth her attention. Once Mr. Banner began passing out microscopes, Sarah glanced at Edward through the corner of her eye and noticed he was still staring at her.

"Nice contacts," Sarah whispered to break the silence between them. It was much less weird if they were at least talking while he stared at her. Edward looked confused once again.

"I'm sorry?" Sarah's attention shifted down to find the pages in her science textbook.

"Contacts. I knew a guy who changed his eye color all the time too. He went from green to blue to black and sometimes even red or purple. I never did figure out what his natural color was." Glancing back over to be polite, Sarah noticed Edward was growing ever more distant as she spoke and had looked away from her. Was he trying to hide his eyes? Sarah didn't think colored contacts were anything to be embarrassed over. It was just one more entry into the ever growing list of oddities that was Edward Cullen. Ones that Sarah decided now was not the time to explore. She reached for the microscope.

Five minutes of struggling to get the slide into focus later, Sarah had no idea what she was looking at. She pulled her book toward her with a sigh, flipping through the pages in a desperate search for answers.

"Prophase," Edward said suddenly. It wasn't until he spoke that Sarah noticed he'd turned back to her. He was smiling again which, while it didn't surprise her, still made her a little uncomfortable. The boy was way too hot and cold. Sarah had moved across the country to escape one attractive and mysterious but utterly confusing man, she didn't need another in her life.

Sarah was about to check his answer with the picture in the book when he swapped the slide out for another. He barely looked at it before writing the answer. Too dumbfounded to stop him, Sarah watched him complete their assignment in all of three minutes while she knew the class would be struggling for the rest of the hour. And, remarkably, Sarah didn't even think he was cheating. She wasn't quite sure why, but she was fairly certain all of his answers were correct. He had that sort of confidence about him; the kind that made her believe he really was good at everything.

"Were you planning on letting me have a look?" Sarah asked him, all exasperation and indignation. She reached for the microscope at the same time as Edward and their hands met. Both jerked away. "Cold," Sarah mumbled quietly to herself, though once again it wasn't the cold that startled her. Edward's hands were very much like Carlisle's. He too had that same peculiar spark of magic.

"I…."

"Poor circulation?" Sarah asked, her most innocent she could manage. Even when Carlisle had used it as an excuse it had been laughably bad. Poor circulation was common and even boring, it definitely didn't explain the unnatural and exciting feeling Sarah got from touching their hands. Edward eventually nodded, but was unable to offer anything more as their teacher interrupted them.

"Very nice, Edward, but were you planning on letting Isabella here learn this too?" he looked mildly annoyed as he spoke and Sarah wondered if this was a common problem of Edward's. She wanted to agree with Mr. Banner and complain that it was what she'd been trying to do when they'd accidentally touched. She also wanted to argue with the teacher's assumption she hadn't helped out at all, though one look at her grade was probably proof enough.

"Bella answered three of five correctly," Edward lied smoothly. Mr. Banner looked abashed despite Sarah wondering why he was so easily convinced. Perhaps the awe for the Cullens felt by the students translated to the teachers as well?

"Did you do this lab back in Phoenix?" Mr. Banner asked her, making Sarah have to stop gaping at Edward to answer.

"Uh… sure," she said with a nod, not throwing Edward under the bus no matter how much she wanted to. Something about the way the teacher was looking at her and how he'd mumbled something about extra credit as he walked away made Sarah hold her tongue. Every point counted, right? Sarah turned back to Edward and eyed him carefully. "What was that?" she demanded of him. Edward didn't seem to understand.

"He would have made you redo it." Sarah huffed.

"I didn't do it in the first place," she reminded him with a roll of her eyes. "Unlike you, I actually need to learn this stuff." Whether or not Sarah believed any of this science would help her in life, a failing class grade was still a failing grade and graduation was not as far off as it once had seemed. Finally Edward understood and carefully shifted both the microscope and his chair a little closer to her.

"You see how those are lined up like that? This is metaphase." Edward's explanations of the slides were detailed but clear and by the time he'd finished, Sarah was beaming. Regardless of what she thought of him personally, anyone who could break down topics like this so they made sense to her immediately was hard to truly hate. As much as she was good at holding grudges, Edward was a little too good at playing nice.

"Well that makes much more sense now," she said at last, slumping back in her seat after they'd finished all the slides. It had taken almost the entire class period, but Sarah definitely thought it was worth it. Whether Edward thought the same about having to teach her, Sarah couldn't say. Instead she tilted her head as she examined him. "Thank you for that. You know, you're not a bad guy after all."

"After all?" he repeated with a smile that was supposed to charm her. "Was that in doubt?"

"Yes," she told him with a solemn nod. Apparently Edward had gotten the hang of the way she operated, looking more amused than surprised by her response. It was funny, but Jareth and the Labyrinth had not crossed her mind for almost an hour now—a new record. It probably would have stayed that way too, if Edward hadn't noticed the slip of paper she'd been writing on before.

"Have you decided on a play?" he asked, gesturing to the list she'd been making. Feeling like she'd been suddenly doused in ice water, Sarah shook her head and forced a smile.

"No," she said, her voice a little weak. Clearing her throat, Sarah tried again. "No, no. We're still working on that." Edward looked as though he didn't quite buy what she was trying to sell him, and Sarah was thankful when the bell cut off any chance he had to counter her comment. She gathered up her things as quickly as possible, but once again he'd beaten her to it. Before she could even really process it, Edward was up and out the door. She really wished he'd make up his mind whether he disliked her or not, because—strange though it was—Sarah had the feeling she'd like to be his friend.