That first morning back in Forks, I didn't wake up some much has become more awake. The rain hadn't let up, and the rest of the night became me alternately trying to drown out the noise and trying to breathe through the pillow that was jammed over my head. I had to brush my hair nearly twice as long as it normally took before it was straight, falling almost halfway down the mirror. I looked in the mirror and as my usual, pale as milk self staring back at me but with the addition of dark circles under my eyes. My dark brown eyes were bloodshot and my face show all the warmth and comfort Forks' weather had to offer. I slumped back to my room, and dug through my clothes. I pulled out a pair of purple leggings which were thick enough that they really could just be called pants. I threw them on with my black dress, which was only just kept from being emo by the long, thin beadwork of flowers along the asymmetrical hem. It was sleeveless, and since I am not entirely crazy, my stellar relocation decision notwithstanding, I put on a dark green sweater first before sliding into the dress. I enfolded myself into my new heavy winter coat, bought with my mother just before leaving, which repelled cold and wet in equal measure. Clomping downstairs to find that Charlie had already left for the day, I was able to find a piece of fruit that wasn't entirely ready to be thrown out and locked up before heading to my truck for my maiden voyage.

Charlie was not kidding about it being loud. I turned the key and jumped so much the engine stalled as I let go and slapped my hands over my mouth to keep the scream in. I tried again with more success and prayed that I remembered next time when school was over and didn't repeat the performance in a parking lot full of people. It took me a little time to get back to the school, and then again to figure out which parking lot to use which made me glad I was early. As it was, I parked towards the back of the smallish lot, not wanting to risk taking up a regular spot and getting someone I had never met miffed at me before they could meet me and I could give them a socially awkward and legitimate reason for said miffdom.

I didn't have many friends back in Phoenix. I had a few girlfriends I socialized with and joined on the occasional social outing, but really, it was hard for me to connect with girls my own age, to say nothing of the boys. I always felt like we didn't share much common ground. I liked to read and study and didn't need to fill the air with endless chatter that really had no real effect on the world around me. I almost never used makeup, let my hair grow at its leaden pace until it was unbearable before cutting half of it off, nibbled my nails as often as I was able to track down a pair of nail clippers, bought most of my clothing secondhand, and never dated. My wit was rather dry, my vocabulary copious, and more than once I had overheard people say that I was overbearing and a bit patronizing. It was understandable, since I was often the voice of reason whenever my friends wanted to do something truly outlandish. Someone had to be, and since I was quite comfortable being on my own as I was amongst actual friends, I found that more than a few casual friendship simply ended when others decided I wasn't worth the bother anymore.

Taking a deep breath and trying not to get sucked into a spiral of discontent, I hopped out of the truck, and managed to stay on my feet only because I grabbed the door. Right. Wet. Glad that no one had seen that, I grabbed my normally much heavier book bag and headed around the school, trying to figure out which was the office. The school was not much more than some repurposed housing and had none of the telltale signs of public schooling or any of its many landmarks. I finally found the front desk and walked in, self-conscious of my dripping coat and words "new student" that might as well be stamped across my forehead. I had taken more than three steps into the door before the office attendant looked up, a look of subtle confusion upon her face.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a voice that was so sweet it made my teeth ache.

"Hello," I said courteously, "I'm new."

"Oh," she said, recognition filling her face and making me seventy eight times more self-conscious.

"You must be Isabella," she beamed.

I smiled in return, even if I didn't feel all that happy.

"Bella, if you please," I said. Charlie had been talking. I was sure of it. I remembered, somewhere in the back of my mind, this same repartee when visiting Forks as a child. Everyone I met called my Isabella, even though I have never once called myself that, ever. I had stuck with Bella since the time I could say it, and while my mom quickly caught on to the idea, I had the feeling that my dad thought of me as Isabella first and was only flexible enough to at least never call me by my full first name in my presence.

"I should have recognized you right away," she said. "You look so much like your mother!"

"Thank you," I said, feeling slightly more cheered. I actually got that compliment a lot and it was a compliment. If it wasn't for the bits of Charlie I had picked up, I might actually be as pretty as my mother, who looked an awful lot like me, just with added laugh lines. But the features that were striking on my mother have been watered down in me via Charlie, leaving me for more mundane. However, I never got tired of people thinking I looked like my pretty mom. It was a nice thought.

"Here is your schedule, dear," said the attendant. "I am Mrs. Cope, and I will be happy to help you in anyway I can. I took the liberty of xeroxing a map of the school on the back of your schedule and marking each of your classrooms with its correlating period number. I hope you are very happy here, Isabella. Oh! Sorry, Bella."

I smiled, even if I didn't feel as hopeful as she did.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cope," I said.

"Be sure to get signatures from all of your teachers on the second slip and return it to me by the end of the day. No playing hooky!"

I looked momentarily stunned and she laughed.

"I'm only teasing, dear," she said. "No need to be quite so nervous. We don't bite around here. At least not all of us, isn't that right Mr. Banner?"

A passing teacher grunted something I didn't catch around a cup of coffee before passing out into the hall.

"Have a good day, dear," she said. "See you at three."

I surreptitiously folded the map so that I could look at it every once in a while and not have the big fluttering thing in front of my face the whole day. I headed towards building three for English with Mr. Mason. Never had I ever had a handwritten schedule before that day. I hoped the printer was down, because I couldn't imagine hand writing nearly four hundred schedules. Poor Mrs. Cope.

I was able to get to the building pretty easily, though by then, more and more students were starting to populate the school grounds, and the bell for first period rang before I had found the building in question. I followed a few students who filed in and followed suit as we hung up coats and found seats. There didn't seem to be any assigned seating, so I took a seat towards the middle but to one side. I got my signature from Mr. Mason and a list of reading material I would need for the class. To my disappointment, I had actually already read everything we were going to read for the rest of the year. My favorite subject would be nothing but review for the rest of the year.

After class was over and we were filing out, and after I embarrassingly forgot my coat and had to double back, a boy walked up to me. He was on the tall side, bordering on gawky, with greasy black hair and an honest to god suit jacket and tie.

"Hey," he said, sounding even more nervous than me. "I'm Eric. You're Isabella, right?"

"Bella, please," I said, glad he didn't offer a hand to shake.

"Cool," he said, "That's cool. Where is your next class? Maybe I can take you."

I wasn't sure if I wanted a shadow just yet, especially one who was eager for me to like him. But, I politely and covertly consulted the list.

"Government," I said.

"With Mr. Jefferson," added Eric, and I was about to ask how he knew, when it occurred to me that there probably wasn't more than one Government teacher at this school.

"I have Gym," he said, "But I could walk you. It's on the way…"

I didn't exactly want the company, especially since my first inclination about his motives seemed correct, but it was my first day and I would rather make a diplomatic first impression.

"Okay," I said neutrally, and we started walking.

"You're from Phoenix, right?" he asked. I suddenly wondered if there was a short bio floating around somewhere.

"Yep," I said, not exactly thrilled with everyone knowing all about me before I had a chance to decide who I told what about myself.

"Quite the change," he said, looking at the rain and rain coats around us.

"Yep," I said, already considering how I might avoid this walking partner tomorrow. As it turned out, the situation was decided for me. As he walked me to the door, he was suddenly bumped aside as two boys passed.

"Hey, new girl," said the taller, tanner of the two athletic boys, his eyes dropping down me and back up again, "Cute… dress."

The blonde one looked at Eric with a look of utter transparency and smirked. Immediately Eric walked away without a word.

"Don't worry about him," said the blonde boy, "Eric is pretty much harmless. If he bothers you again, just let me know."

I wasn't going to do anything of the sort, but again, today, I was diplomatic Bella.

"Sure," I said. I walked towards the door, hoping to lose the two boys by going to class. Alas, they followed me.

"Anytime Isabella," said the blonde.

"Bella," I corrected flatly.

"Nice," said the dark haired boy, giving the other a look that I couldn't fully discern. Must be a boy thing.

"Mike," said the blonde.

"Tyler," Mike said, indicating his compatriot. They both took seats a few chairs in front of me, both lifting their legs to step over the backs of their chairs to sit down at the same time. The move looked practically rehearsed.

Luckily, the class went quickly, though it was distracting to see the two boys keep casting furtive looks at each other and occasionally me, but when the bell rang, neither said a word to me, just ducked out of the classroom, pushing each other and laughing as they rapidly fired hushed comments back and forth. I was holding on to hope that the comments had nothing to do with me.

Next hour was Trigonometry, which was to be my worst subject as I was rubbish at maths. Doomed to hate the class already, naturally it was the only one where the teacher immediately called me out.

"It seems we have a new student here today," said Mr. Varner after I had him sign my slip and was settling into a desk.

Oh no, I was practically screaming inside my own head. No! NO! Please no!

"Isabella," he went on, and I wondered if I could get away with saying loudly that I had read the schedule wrong and excuse myself.

"Would you please stand and tell the class a little about yourself?" he asked.

"I'd really rather not," I said, blushing tremendously. There was a laugh, like I was joking.

"Oh come now," he said, "I'm sure your new classmates would like to know all about you."

I doubted that. There wasn't much to tell.

I stood up, but I didn't say anything at first, but will all the faces staring, I reasoned that if I was going to plunge to my death, I better get it over with.

"It's just Bella," I said, trying to smile, to be casual, to talk just like all the teenage girls I had seen doing similar such presentations of themselves. It felt like my skin was determined to up and crawl away.

"I'm from Forks, originally," I said. "You all probably know my dad, Chief Swan. I just moved back from Phoenix-"

"You don't look like you are from Phoenix," said a boy behind me. I looked around and couldn't spot him right off. He was right. With my pale skin and not a freckle to be seen, I might as well be a shut in.

"I would," I said dryly, "if my mom ever let me out of the house."

Someone chuckled, but it might have just been a cough. Sigh.

Mr. Varner looked like he was catching onto the awkwardness.

"What do you do for fun?" he asked, as though continuing might actually be helpful to me in some way.

"Read," I said tersely.

"Besides that?" he put in.

After a long moment, I just sat down and Mr. Varner took the hint. When the class was over, I was about to grab my things and bolt, coat be damned, when a girl walked up to me.

"Oh…my…god…" she intoned, "That was awful. Mr. Varner is such a-"

"I can hear you, Ms. Stanley," Mr. Varner said tiredly.

Ms. Stanley just giggled.

"I'm Jessica," she said, offering a hand. I stood and took it. At least I wasn't the shortest girl in school, but if you included her voluminous curls, she was just a bit taller. She had pretty, earnest blue eyes, and a sort of unabashed self-assurance that I found more appealing than the gawking and stares.

"What's your next class, Just Bella?" she asked.

I consulted my slip, "Spanish."

"Cool!" beamed Jessica. "That's with me. Come on."

She led me to class, and we chatted about this and that. She complimented me on her dress and while I didn't wear makeup, I could appreciate and freely admit that hers was tasteful and applied very well. Her smile was a bit toothy but not at all self-conscious.

We got through Spanish with little fuss, and I found myself walking beside her as we headed to lunch with little need for any encouragement.

"You should totally sit with us at lunch," she said. "I mean, you don't want to get a reputation as the loner nerdy book girl on your first day, do you?"

I was still considering it.

"Hey, Ang," said Jessica, "This is Just Bella. Just Bella, this is Angela."

"Hi," said Angela, and there was something in her eyes that I had yet to see in anyone's since I had gotten here. It was concern, but the sort of concern where she was looking, really looking, to see me and how I was doing. It felt like the pressure lessened a bit.

"Hi," I said and we exchanged a shaky smile.

"Lunch line is through here," said Jessica, though I didn't think I needed to point out the obviousness of said line. We stepped through and I was pleased that the food was at least food if not altogether healthy. I got what I could stomach, overwhelmed and a bit shell-shocked, and followed the girls to our table.

There were more than a few people already there, some of which I recognized.

"Hey, Bella," said Mike with more than the necessary amount of friendliness and familiarity as we sat at the far end of the group. "We were just talking about you."

"I wish you wouldn't," I said, though I wasn't sure if he heard me.

"Were you really a shut-in back in Phoenix?" asked a girl with straight blonde hair with the least warmth I had heard since I had gotten here.

"Jeez, Lauren," said Mike. "Don't be a-"

He glanced at me, and back to her.

"-mean," he finished, somewhat lamely.

"Really?" asked Jessica with excess sarcasm. "She was totally joking. God!"

Her eyes were on Mike, who's eyes were on me, and she wasn't happy about the situation.

"So," said Mike, "you just didn't get much sun?"

"Some," I said looking away, "I just have a tendency to burn if I get more than three seconds of it."

"Guess you came to the right place," said Mike with an overly loud laugh. I was trying to come up with some sort of a reply that worked for me, Jessica, and Mike, but was saved from doing so because it was then that I saw them.

It was almost like my world slowed down, coming to a pace with theirs. They were almost still, statuesque, as the world roared and rolled and roiled around them. It was hard to describe them in words without allegory, and even then, it wasn't easy. They almost lounged in the plastic orange chairs that the other student used around them, but they made it look as though it could be lounged it. They were arrayed in a fashion that could be called picturesque, as though posed by a Renaissance or Gothic painter, made all the more incongruous by the modern and incredibly expensive clothing they wore. They were all apart, despite being in the center of the cafeteria, for not only were they a class apart by their apparel, they were all staggeringly, mindbogglingly beautiful. Each had skin paler even than mine, but inhumanly flawless. Their hair was full and lustrous, their faces balanced and symmetrical, without a single excess or misproportion. All of their faces held a cool and casual indifference, as though the goings on around them were infinitely beneath their notice. They were the four most beautiful people I had ever seen.

"Who are they?" someone asked, and it took me a moment to realize that person was me.

"Who?" asked Jessica, then giggled. "Oh, them!"

I couldn't take my eyes away from them.

"Those are Doctor Cullen's kids," she said. "They live outside of town, moved here like three years ago."

My eyes roved over their differing characteristics. One boy was lanky yet toned, with a head of honey blond hair that fell to just behind his ears. Next to him was a petite girl who was actually the shortest girl in school, with a dark pixie cut. Around the table from her was a boy was possibly the largest person I had ever seen his age. He was easily more than a foot taller than me and his arms looked about as big around as my waist. And beside him was the most devastatingly beautiful girl I had ever seen. She was like supermodel pretty, but was far too voluptuous to be lumped in with runway models. Her blonde wavy hair almost reached the bottom of her seat and her face was so perfect, I was having trouble believing I was awake.

"They aren't all related, are they?" I asked on autopilot. "They look the same but they don't look the same."

"No," Jessica said. "They are all adopted. The doctor and his wife are really young and can't have kids. It is weird, though…"

"Weird?" I asked, finally pulling me eyes away to look at her. "Weird how?"

"They're dating," she said in hushed tones.

I looked as confused as I felt, "Huh?"

"They are like paired up," she said. "Gorgeous Rosalie and her bear of a boyfriend Emmett, and the tiny Alice and her boyfriend Jasper. They live together and all, and they are dating. Well, all except their brother."

I glanced back at the table, "Brother?"

"He doesn't always sit with them," she explained. "He is sort of the lone wolf type. He doesn't date, though."

There was a sigh of longing and I looked at her, finding her looking in a different direction. I followed her eyeline and froze.

Now, I was certain I was dreaming.

I was never someone who was taken in by boys. I had never dated nor felt any inclination to date before. I had seen a boy or two who I thought were cute, but never in all my life had I seen a face that drew me to a person before. Or, I hadn't, until that moment.

He was beautiful in a way that made me feel like I was on the brink of tears, sort of breathless with prickling eyes, overwhelmed by the fact that such a face could exist and disheartened because everything else beautiful in the world seemed lessened by comparison.

He sat alone, hunched at one of the circular tables, his wavy bronze hair in a glorious, devil-may-care disarray, a thin leather bound notebook drawn up to him as he scribbled away with an old-fashioned fountain pen, a look of perturbed, furious concentration on his face. He was writing or drawing something, the paper so close to his face, as though to try and blot out the rest of the world around him. Suddenly he stopped, as though sensing something amiss, then tilted his eyes directly to mine.

They were black, deep wells looking back at me, so vast I felt as though I were being drawn in and down, as though I could lose all sense of time and self if I wasn't careful. I could only meet them for the barest moment that felt like a longish century before I drew my gaze away.

Jessica giggled again beside me.

"He is cute though," she said. "It really is too bad."

I felt this was quite the understatement, but I couldn't rightly put his face into words, not with a girl who I had just met and certainly not with someone was so cavalier about what had so moved me. I risked another peak and found that he was still looking at me. I risked a bit more and realized he was doing more than look; he was staring at me, intently. I could stand it no more and looked away, going a bit pink. I was just in time to see Jessica blank some look of confusion from her face.

"Yeah," I said weakly, for something to say. "That's too bad."

"What?" Jessica said, trying to come off as teasing but with far too much intent to be believable. "Are you going to ask him out?"

I snorted, "I… uh… don't really date."

She was suddenly more cheerful.

"Bad break up?" she asked, sounding way too happy, in my book, to be asking such a question.

"No," I said, trying not to sound put out. "I would need to have started dating for there to be a break up…"

She looked at me like I had just revealed to her the existence of kitten cancer.

"You've never had a boyfriend?" she exclaimed, loud enough that most of the group sitting around us looked over and people in the surrounding area went quiet. This time, my pink was more of a deep maroon.

"Sorry," she stage whispered, scooting closer to me. "I just mean… wow. That sucks!"

"Not really," I said, feeling more inclined to disarm a bomb with only my teeth than I was to participate in this conversation more than I had to. I dug into my food, suddenly starving. Jessica gave me a nonplussed look.

"What?" I asked after swallowing.

"You just…" she said. "You have quite the appetite."

I turned my full attention on my food. Jessica said an offhanded comment or two. I didn't respond. The bell rang and I cleared my tray and left without a word.

"Hey," I heard behind me after I was about halfway to Biology. "Bella, hold up!"

I turned to see Mike lopping up, his thumbs through the straps of his backpack.

"Hey," he said, "Jessica want me to tell you that she said she's sorry, and that she totally stuck her foot in her mouth…"

He paused, as though thinking, "And that it was totally her bad and she hopes you will forgive her because she wants to be your friend."

He didn't wait for me to reply, "Where's your next class?"

"Biology," I said reluctantly.

"Hey!" he enthused. "That's two for… four. Okay, not great numbers, but still…"

I didn't bother pointing out that it was two out of five.

He joined me in walking to class. He chatted up a storm, which might have bothered me if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't really require me to say much in return. It was actually kind of nice, a kindly backdrop to my less than stellar mood. I felt myself relaxing by the time we were walking into Bio.

Mr. Banner filled out my slip as I waited.

"Welcome to the class," he said halfheartedly. "Find an empty seat. There aren't a lot of options left."

He was right. There wasn't. There was precisely one open seat left. And it was next to him.

The notebook was nowhere to be seen. He sat casually, looking to one side, a sort of resigned boredom about his features. He was very more overwhelming up close and I quickly chastised myself to look at my feet before I tripped over them. Or looked at him with slack-jawed awe.

I took my seat carefully since there was only the one lab table for us to share and I didn't want to do something stupid like touch him or anything and be forced to invent an nonexistent table for me to sit at beside the teacher's desk, furthest from him. He didn't move as I settled into my chair. Like at all. I could have sworn that I heard something, something that sounded a lot like popping joints, but he didn't move a millimeter. He was stiff and motionless through role-call, and then, with a steady and soundless shift, he pulled himself and his chair away from me.

I felt myself flush. He hadn't so much as looked my way. He had gone out of his way not to look at me, and now he was moving away from me? What was going on? Was my presence her really so abhorrent?

I felt my face flood red, and finally, he looked at me. I wished he hadn't.

His head turned, facing me fully. His eyes were just as dark as they had been before, but there was a sort of emptiness to them now. And his face, still breathtakingly beautiful, was now outright and undeniably hostile. I had never had anyone look at me like that in all my life. He looked as though… as though he wanted to kill me.

There was a knock at the door, and it opened before Mr. Banner could pause his lesson. Almost reluctantly, the boy drew his gaze away from me.

It was the small one, Alice. She was standing in the doorway, a positively charming look on her face. The boy sighed, but it didn't sound much like a sigh; it sounded more like a low hiss.

A shiver ran down my spine, and I suddenly didn't want to move.

"I need Edward," Alice said pleasantly from the door.

Mr. Banner looked like he was about to argue.

"It's a family emergency," she added. "We need to leave now."

For that last sentence, particularly the last word, she looked at him.

He said something. I couldn't quite catch it, but it sounded like he said, "No."

I looked back at him. I couldn't help it. The movement seemed to catch his attention, and he looked from his adopted sister back at me. The look was on his face again, but this time, it intensified, as though he was about to cry out and lounge at me. There was a sudden flare, as though the iris of his eye were splitting vertically down its middle, like the cracking of crust, revealing molten red beneath. His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes and looked away.

"Well then," said Mr. Banner. "If it is an emergency, go on then."

Edward didn't look back at me. He stood so quickly that his chair clattered against the wall behind him. Without a sound and with the grace of a passing cloud's shadow, he glided out of the room, his sister taking his arm. I was just able to see him shake it off as the door closed behind them.

For the life of me, I couldn't have told you what happened in Biology that day. Mr. Banner could have wheeled in an alien from Area 51 on a gurney and expounded on the creature's anatomy before a portal opened up and the alien's kin appeared to take it back to the homeworld and I wouldn't have been any the wiser.

What had just happened? I didn't understand it at all. Why had he looked at me like that? I felt foolish for not knowing, not understanding. I was certain that I hadn't done anything to him. Why was he so angry? Why had his sister come to get him? I am not sure who else saw what had happened, but the timing seemed too convenient. And, the thought making more shivers run up and down my spine, what would have happened if she hadn't?

By the end of the period, I was a wreck. I couldn't help but go over and over the situation in my head, trying to figure out what I had done to him, why this had happened, wondering if it had been my fault. By the time class was over, I was feeling utterly dismal and dejected. Or maybe rejected was the right word.

"Are you okay?" asked Mike. "You look like your dog died."

"I'm fine," I assured him, before I read the words in front of me on the map.

Gym. Why did it have to be Gym?!

I had already taken Gym! I had completed the year and a half requirement as soon as I could because it was miserable. Imagine going to see a concert by a pianist who was trying to play Debussy by sight, who had never touched a piano before. Now, imagine the concert was every day, and the pianist never got any better. That's me in Gym.

"What is it?" Mike asked, looking almost scared now.

"I have Gym," I said dourly.

"Alright!" said Mike, completely oblivious. "Two for two!"

I didn't add that this was the cherry on top to an already disastrous day. What would be the point?

We headed past the cafeteria to where the gym was located. I saw the split where girls went towards one door and boys towards the other, not sure which door led into the gym itself.

"Coach Clapp is through there," Mike said, sounding a least marginally sympathetic, which was the second nicest thing to happen to me that day, behind Jessica's apology.

I entered the gym proper and found the coach in question, gathering up some volleyballs and placing them on a rolling cart that held sport balls.

"Coach?" I asked, always feeling awkward using the title.

He looked up, seemingly annoyed to be interrupted.

"Yeah?" he asked crisply. "What do you want?"

"I'm Bella Swan," I said, and sighed when this didn't elicit a response.

"Isabella Swan," I repeated, trying not to grind my teeth.

"Oh," he said, finally seeming to get it. "So? What do you want?"

"It's just," I said, trying to find the words, "I am scheduled for gym this period. And…"

"And?" he said, putting his hands on his hips.

"I already fulfilled my gym requirement at my last school," I finished.

"Which was?" he asked, his eyes hardening.

"Two years," I said, my voice a little softer.

"Well, Isabella," he said harshly, "you're not at some soft, holier than thou, yuppie school anymore. Here at Fork's High, we teach Gym all four years."

I could feel the prick of angry tears start, and I was determined no to shed a single traitorous drop for this jerk. Fortunately, he took one look at my face and realized he might have been a bit overzealous.

"Look," he said. "I get it. You're in a new school and things are different and that's hard and all. But this is the way it is. You have two choices. You can hate it, or you can get used to it. So which is it going to be?"

I took a deep breath. I nodded and pulled my slip out of my bag. He materialized a pen out of nowhere and signed.

"Come on," he said, and headed to a side door that lead to his office. He dug through a box and pulled out a combination lock and an oversized shirt and shorts. He pulled a piece of tape off the back of the lock, read the combination that was written there, and wrote it on the corner of a piece of paper before tearing it off and handing me the lot.

"Here," he said. "Stash these an open locker in the girl's locker room. Door's over there. You don't have to change out today, but you do get to see how things are run, get used to the idea and all. Tomorrow, you play."

I watched more than few volleyball games, sort of remembering the rules and having to relearn them. I noticed that Mike was actually pretty good, and was starting to be okay with Gym by the time the period was wrapping up. However, I was still pretty determined to never actually touch the ball unless someone made me.

The day was finally over. I was tempted to just run, to hop in my truck and bolt, but I still needed to turn in my class slip to Mrs. Cope. I suddenly had the most grotesque mental image of her waiting, staying after all the other office workers had left, wondering what had happened to me. I marched to the office in a huff, if only to get the image out of my head all the sooner.

I stepped into the office and found that someone was already in line ahead of me. I was determined to wait my turn, not to eavesdrop, when I realized who it was in front of me.

"I'm really sorry to hear that," Mrs. Cope was saying. "It isn't too serious, I hope."

"We really don't know yet," Alice replied, her voice confident and no nonsense, sounding mature to me, almost like an authority figure. "It is an unusual form of leukemia, and the prognosis isn't really definitive because there isn't a lot of information about it. He is going to stay with his brother in Maryland until he is out of the woods, perhaps longer if… well, if it comes to that."

"Of course," said Mrs. Cope. "I hadn't heard that he had a brother. Are they close?"

"They haven't seen each other since before the adaption," said Alice. "That was so long ago, I don't think they kept in touch much before now."

"I see," Mrs. Cope replied. "You said you would be collecting his school work?"

"I will," she said, "or one of my siblings. I don't know how quickly he will get it done. It has been so long since he has seen his brother, and for them to be reunited under such circumstances… But I am sure he will get to it as soon as he reasonably can."

"I'm sure he will," said Mrs. Cope. "You all are such wonderful students. We just hope Edward returns soon and that everything works out well. You'll give him all our best, won't you, Ms. Cullen?"

"Certainly," said Alice. "I will see you tomorrow, Mrs. Cope."

She turned, her eyes finding mine in an instant, as though she knew exactly where to look. Her eyes were very, very blue, a royal blue, and it occurred to me that she must wear contacts. No sooner had the thought entered my head, it was pushed out again by the fact that she was looking at me, really looking, full in the face, in a way that a total stranger really wouldn't do. Her expression was hard to understand. It was sort of serious and… sympathetic? Pitying? Concerned? Apologetic? Embarrassed? Some mix of all of the above?

Before I could act further, she stepped around me with a grace that almost staggered me, making the move look like it was part of a well rehearsed dance routine done by a seasoned ballerina. I was a bit flummoxed as I tried to remember why I was here.

"Hello, dear," said Mrs. Cope. "Do you have your slip for me?"

I was standing there, slip in hand, half extended, in a daze. I quickly stepped over and hand her the slip.

"Did you have a good first day?" she asked as she filed it away. I swear I said something, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I couldn't remember them.

"That's nice," she said, more focused on her papers than on me. "That's everything I need. I hope you like it here. Have a good rest of your day."

It wasn't until my truck roared to life that I was snapped out of it. I was driving and needed to pay attention, but I also needed time to organize my thoughts. I needed something to do that didn't require much from my brain, something I could do without much thinking, something meditative.

Swinging by the house, I grabbed cash from the jar Charlie kept above the fridge that he had pointed out the night before when we discussed cooking and shopping. I drove to the local market, grabbing the usual fair I would pick up when I lived in Phoenix, or at least as close as I could with the slightly more limited selection. I brought the food home, and put it away, did all my homework, cooked at cursory meal, greeted Charlie, ate, answered any questions he had about my day noncommittally, left him to clean up, reviewed my homework, showered, and was lying in bed and staring at the ceiling in the dark with the wind rushing over the roof and still, I couldn't make everything fit together.

The entire day, I couldn't stop thinking about Edward Cullen. Why? Why had he looked at me like that? Was his brother really sick? The timing seemed too coincidental. But if his brother wasn't sick, what possible reason would he have for not returning to school? Was it me? Had I done something? And if it was me, why couldn't they just tell me?

I wondered what would happen if I talked to Alice or… well, no, I couldn't even really consider talking to any of his other siblings. And I didn't think I was really going to ask Alice either. How utterly self-centered that would be! I couldn't just walk up to her and ask if her adopted brother's brother was really sick or if he had left because of me. I could never do anything so callus.

And yet, even then, as I lay there, I couldn't stop thinking about his face. It was like it was etched into my eyes, his surreally idyllic beauty, the set of his mouth as he concentrated, the set of his jaw when he stared off into space, even the flair of his eyes when he glared at me. The very idea of the light on his hair made my skin tingle and my knees weak. His lips… I wouldn't even bring myself to consider what might be possible if I…

I rolled over and looked at the blank wall closest to me. I wasn't sure I liked this at all. I never, ever felt swept away by a boy, let alone one that glared and left school unexpectedly. The very idea that I could be so easily swayed by a pretty face twisted my stomach. Was I really so shallow, so typical? Could his beauty let me ignore the fact that he had looked so angry?

No.

He hadn't looked angry.

He looked like he wanted to kill me.

And I couldn't just ignore that.