Isabella Cullen didn't come back to school for the rest of the week, and I knew that it was my fault. Her beautiful blond sister often sent me accusing glares.

The week and weekend passed smoothly. I studied hard. I knew that I wanted to follow in my dad's footsteps, and go to Harvard to study law to become a lawyer.

In Chicago, I was on the debate team, Football, Basketball, and the track and field team. I did internships at the law firm where my dad worked. I planned on doing an internship again, and doing track and field. I was doing things to look on my college resume.

On Monday, when I got to school, it was snowing. Mike was planning a snowball fight.

When I got to lunch, I saw that Bella was back.

They were laughing. Emmett, Jasper, and Bella all had their hair entirely saturated with melting snow. Alice and Rosalie were leaning away as Emmett flipped his dripping hair toward them, leaving a wide arc of splatters across the front of their jackets. They were enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else—only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

But, aside from the laughter and playfulness, there was something different, and I couldn't quite figure out what that difference was. I examined Bella, comparing her to my memory of last week. Her skin was less pale, I decided—flushed from the snow fight maybe—the circles under her eyes much less noticeable. But there was something else. I forgot to pretend I wasn't staring as I tried to put my finger on the change.

"What are you staring at, Edward?" Jessica asked.

At that precise moment, Bella's eyes flashed over to meet mine.

I turned my head completely toward Jessica, shifting my shoulders in her direction, too. Jessica leaned away, surprised by my sudden invasion of her personal space.

I was sure, though, in the instant our eyes had met, that she didn't look angry or disgusted as she had the last time I'd seen her.

"Bella Cullen is staring at you," Jessica said, looking over my shoulder.

"She doesn't look angry, does she?" I couldn't help asking.

"No." Jessica looked confused, then he suddenly smiled. "What did you do,

ask her out?"

"No! I've never even talked to her. I just…don't think she likes me very much," I admitted. I kept my body angled toward Jessica, but the back of my neck had goosebumps, like I could feel her eyes on me.

"The Cullens don't like anybody… well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them. But she's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at her," I insisted.

She snickered, but finally looked away.

Mike interrupted us then—he was planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. Jessica agreed enthusiastically. The way she looked at Mike left little doubt that she would be up for anything she suggested. I kept silent.

For the rest of the lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table. Bella didn't look like she was planning to murder me anymore, so it was no big thing to go to Biology. My stomach twisted at the thought of sitting next to her again.

I didn't really want to walk to class with Mike as usual, but when we got to the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison. It was raining, washing all traces of the snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the side of the walkway. I pulled my hood up. I actually like snow. My friends in Chicago—Noah, Elijah, and Ethan—and I always played in the snow in the winter, so I was used to it and liked it. In Chicago, I was one of the most popular and sought-after boys in school. I didn't want to leave

"We're moving?!" I spat. "But my whole entire life is here!"

"Your mother is tired of the big city." Father told me.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't care! Why can't parents ever think about their kids when they make big decisions?""

"But you don't even know where we're moving!" Mother said.

"Where?"

"Forks, Washington.""

I've never even heard of that place. Does the high school have a football team? How about basketball? I'm captain of the basketball team here. What about track and field?"

"It does have all of those things. You can try out for track and field in the spring, and the other sports later in the year."

I groaned. "You must really hate me."

"Sorry, son."

"You're not!" I snapped.

"This isn't your choice." Mom snapped.

"I should have at least had a say! Or at least ask my opinion. Stop treating me like a baby!" I stood up and stormed out of the living room and to my bedroom.

Mike kept up a string of complaints on the way to building four.

Once inside the classroom, I was relieved that Bella's chair was still empty. It gave me a minute to settle myself. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class still had a few minutes before it started, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook.

I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but I kept my eyes focused on the pattern I was drawing.

"Hello," a voice like silver glass wind chimes murmured.

I looked up, shocked that she was speaking to me. She was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but her chair was angled toward me. Her hair was dripping wet, tangled—even so, she looked like she'd just finished shooting a commercial. Her perfect face was friendly, open, a slight smile on her full, pink lips. But her big eyes were careful.

She wore a grey sweater flounce top with length sleeves, black jeans, and open toe high heeled lace up ankle boots.

"My name is Bella Cullen," she continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Edward Masen."

My mind was whirling with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? She was totally polite now. I had to say something; she was waiting.

"Yes, I am."

We started doing the lab. It was very simple. The slides were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes, Mr. Banner would be coming around to see who had it right.

"Ladies first, partner?" I asked.

"Yes, thank you." She looked away sharply, yanking the microscope to her side of the table.

She studied the first slide for a quarter of a second—maybe less.

"Prophase."

She switched out the slide for the next, then paused and looked up at me.

"Or did you want to check?" she challenged.

"Uh, no, I'm good," I said.

She wrote the word Prophase neatly on the top line of our worksheet. Even her handwriting was perfect, like she'd taken classes in penmanship or something. Did anyone still do that?

She barely glanced through the microscope at the second slide, then wrote Anaphase on the next line, looping her A like it was calligraphy, like she was addressing a wedding invitation.

She moved the next slide into place, while I took advantage of her diverted attention to stare. So close up, you'd think I'd be able to see something—a hint of a pimple, a stray eyebrow hair, a pore, something—wrong with her.

But there was nothing.

I bent down to look through the eyepiece. I could sense she was watching—only fair, considering how I'd been ogling her—but it made me feel awkward.

At least the slide wasn't difficult.

"Metaphase," I said.

"Do you mind if I look?" she asked as I started to remove the slide. Her hand caught mine, to stop me, as she was speaking. Her fingers were ice cold, like she'd been holding them in a snowdrift before class. But that wasn't why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When she touched me, it stung my hand like a low-voltage electric shock.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, quickly pulling her hand back, though she continued to reach for the microscope. I watched her, a little dazed, as she examined the slide for another tiny fraction of a second.

"Metaphase," she agreed, then slid the microscope back to me.

That's when I noticed the difference in her eyes. They were now a golden butterscotch.

"Did you get contacts?" I asked.

"No…..." She said it like a question.

I shrugged it off.

"Where did you move here from?"

"Chicago."

"Chicago. I lived in a big city…..once. When I was little. Before Emmett and I were adopted."

"So, where did you live when you were little?" I asked.

"Phoenix, but we were in Seattle visiting family when my parents got some deadly virus. They were taken to the hospital, but….Only Emmett and I survived. Carlisle found us, and took us in."

"That was sweet."

"They already had Rosalie and Jasper. Rosalie wanted a sister, and Emmett wanted a brother, so they took us in. Well, that was one reason, at least." She giggled. "So, why did you move here?"

I shrugged. "Mom wanted to move to a smaller town. Dad got a job offer an hour away, in Port Angeles, and mom found a job. So we moved here."

"Any sports or activities in Chicago?"

"Yes. Football, Basketball, track and field, and debate team."

"That's a lot." I laughed. Bella seemed easy to get along with. Her smile was big, touching her eyes, showing off two rows of perfectly straight pure white teeth hidden behind her pale pink full lips. It was breathtaking.

That's when the bell rang. Bella was up and out of the room before anyone else.