A/N: Hello dear followers and occasional readers! I am really thrilled to see that people actually like this story so far, and I enjoy writing it. Constructive criticism and ideas and tips and everything is very welcome, I'd love to know how you guys think about it!

The next day was roughly the same, and yet completely different. The equal parts were that I picked up Bella, who this time determined to spend the day how we planned it since we hadn't had the chance to yet. I myself would not mind waiting another week or so if necessary, we had more than enough time after all. The year had only just begun.

At school chemistry went by without any accidents (if you don't count some burnt fingers).
Next were government and trigonometry, in which Bella and I updated each other. Yes, friendly Mike was still friendly. Chess club Eric was still clingy.
I believed I was the witness of a routine forming.

During gym Dominique and I paired up. She was the dark girl who had shown me the way to the cafeteria last week. As it turned out, she was in the same geography class as well. We were playing four-player volleyball rallies, and boy my teammate was competitive. She would be running around the field, encouraging everyone to get up and play. Most rallies we lost in the end, but that did not demotivate her in the slightest. After all, participating is of more importance than winning. After gym we walked to the cafeteria together, and talked about the weather, which was cloudy and moist as always.

She invited me to go sit with her and her friends, but I politely declined.
We parted in front of the door. After last week's experience it had seemed better to spend lunch hour in the music room instead, as I had therefore done for the rest of the week. During lunch hour bands sometimes were allowed to practice there, but theoretically it was accessible to everyone.
From home I'd already taken an apple and a bottle of water, therefore giving myself the opportunity to avoid the major part of the other students. I agree on the fact that lately I had developed a rather unhealthy eating pattern, but that was of later concern.

Music was being taught just down the hallway in a broad, rectangular room. It was painted in a cosy firebrick colour with the regular beige flooring.
Upon entering, the first thing that one would see on their right would be the side of a large stage, giving off the same impression as the entrance of a cinema. In front would be several tables and chairs pulled together in groups of four. All along the non-stage walls was a long row of tables whereon students could sit and instruments were exhibited. The stage itself was made of black wood and thick, heavy curtains. There were a fixed piano and drums, and now also several guitars as a small group of people was practicing.
Standing next to or sitting on the tables were five people at most, and with the seven band members that made about twelve people present. In a room of appr. 168 m2 that wasn't much.

Oh, how pathetic I was. Counting people? Honestly?

Barely noticed by them I claimed the corner, where I took out a book and my lunch. Lately I had borrowed the first book of the apparently popular Harry Potter-series, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. It wasn't my favourite genre, I concluded, but the world J.K. Rowling created was definitely appealing in some aspects. A bespectacled orphan is denied the simple pleasures in life by his aunt, uncle and cousin, and then receives a strange letter on his 11th birthday, an invitation to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is, in fact, a wizard, like his parents. A whole string of adventures commence concerning both his past and the present. In all honesty, it had started out resembling the majority of books, which were all based on the cliché that the protagonist secretly is something special, often superhuman, and not scarcely without them knowing it. But contrary to those categories, J.K. Rowling had built on from that concept and had conjured a believable, carefully thought-through plot, as well as 3-dimensional main and background characters. Her use of language invited one to vividly imagine the scenes as they enrolled in such a way that it was far from mundane.
Perhaps I would read the second book in the series. The latter was still ongoing, and it wasn't as if I didn't have the time…

The other difference came with the next hour. With Greek books clutched to my chest I entered building 2, perfectly content about the solution for lunch hour. But that contentment didn't last.

Ancient Greek was a rather unpopular subject. The language was deemed dead and therefore irrelevant. Our class was seven heads strong, Eric and I included. That meant that when there was a new student, they stood out more prominently. In this case, one seat behind the place I'd been assigned to sat the bronze-haired boy.
My first thought was what he was doing here, but then I remembered the part of the conversation me and Bella had accidentally overheard.
At least the question as to which class he'd switched to was answered now. He was sitting with his back to the door, skimming the textbook.
I was not entirely sure if I should be mad at him for his behaviour or not.
On the other hand, I didn't know the exact details of what had happened between the two of them, and being a friend of Bella's my opinion was likely to be biased.
I suddenly realised I was still standing in the doorway, and thus began to move forward to the front of the room. I had to admit that I was tense and slightly awkward when I passed and sat down in front of him. Hearing about someone is different than seeing someone in real life, hence the worries. Plus, it didn't help that the subconscious, paranoid little me was imagining all kinds of scenes, as to what could have happened in Biology. Most theories involved Bella tripping.
Now do not get me wrong – I loved Bella as a friend, but being exactly that I had the right to be realistic. She always teased me with my poor cooking skills.

He casually glanced up from his book, neither hostile nor unkind – indifferent would fit the description better, with a hint of being slightly bored.

For the rest of the lesson nothing special happened. The class with Ancient Greek had a nice atmosphere, we took turns translating a part of Plato's works, one or two sentences each time. The name of bronze-haired boy turned out to be Edward. One thing I did notice was his voice like velvet, and the ease he translated with. But furthermore he wasn't all too different from the other students. Perhaps a little seclusive, yes, but hadn't Bella called me that yesterday also?
All in all he seemed alright. I didn't talk to him, he didn't talk to me, so I might have to change that first impression a bit.

During geo Dominique joined me. She was a pleasant person to be around, despite her inability to remain still. She showed me the threads she used to keep her fingers busy, crocheting with her fingers instead of hooks was 'her thing' as she called it.

After school I met up with Bella. She was happier than yesterday, though the matter still bothered her to some degree. Unless one of us actually got to speak with him, which I highly doubted any of us three would do voluntarily, we wouldn't know the reason behind his behaviour, and I figured it was fine this way. Bella struggled more to let it go, but she'd have to in the end. That's the way life is, most puzzles don't get solved.

With two loud thumps Bella and I simultaneously placed down carton boxes on the wooden floor. The first wiped the sweat from her forehead, she'd taken off her jacket so that she was wearing a big-sized sweater. I myself had followed the example of the other students and was wearing a pullover.

The rest of the week had gone by uneventfully, and now weekend had arrived Bella was staying over to help me with moving a part of the boxes and all.
"How many are there left?"
I shrugged. "These were the last ones, I believe."
"Why did you want to move into your own place again?" Bella asked teasingly as she flopped down onto a chair.
"Because you do not want me in the same house, that's why," I responded, and skidded to the kitchen part. It was in the same room, so not at all far. "Would you like some tea?"
"You have a soda perhaps?" she half-mumbled, leaning back and looking like she could fall asleep on that chair.
I nodded, rummaging through one of the higher birch cabinets. Personally I wasn't a soda drinker since it gave me stomach pains like most other foodstuffs, but I was prepared for an emergency like this. "Of course. Here you are."
The soda was being placed on the table next to poor worn-out Bella, who immediately grabbed it. I myself had lost appetite a while ago, so I stood up and opened one of the larger boxes next to Bella's chair – it contained parts of a white closet.
"Why does the government even allow you to live on your own?" she mused in between the sips.
I shrugged, nervousness arising within me. "There is an agreement of some sort between the government and the orphanage I used to live at – I haven't really looked into it."

With one hand I wiped the black strands of hair behind an ear, and I changed the topic: "Are you in for assembling a closet?"
Bella groaned. "Can't we first rest a bit? Please?"
"You can rest now, if you wish to."
"Then I'll feel guilty and help anyway, you know that."
I poked her shoulder playfully. "Oh come on, I know there's still some energy left in you. We can do this, can't we?"
"Ugh. You're asking way too much from a sixteen-year-old. Have mercy on me."
I grinned while I pulled out large pieces of painted wood that, once put together, would make a white closet.
"By the way, isn't that supposed to be in your room? And didn't you say earlier that that part of the house was already finished?"
"The bed-part of it is..." I responded in defence. A deep sigh came from beside me, and for some while no other sound was heard except for breathing and a heartbeat. I was still pulling out small planks and stacking them carefully. After some while, just as I got the impression that she had fallen asleep, Bella jumped up from her seat and walked in a quick pace to the front door.
"Where are you going?" I asked curiously.

"Just wait for it!" she called over her shoulder, and disappeared out of sight. Long I didn't have to wait, for she already returned within two or three minutes. She stumbled inside, the wind slammed the door shut behind her. In her arms were three small.. boxes? She saw my confusion, and grinned.
"As I said, just wait for it. You'll see how brilliant this mind of mine can be." She placed them on the kitchen counter and began doing all kinds of things with wires. I settled with trying to figure out in which box the screws were again, they were all similarly white (the boxes). Maybe that should've been done differently. Dozens of boxes were scattered across the room– well, dozens was perhaps a bit exaggerated, twenty was more accurate. The living room/kitchen was as good as finished, so it made a perfect temporarily storage room. Or at least, so I'd thought.

The first chords of a song startled me from thought. When I looked up I saw Bella turning up the volume in the kitchen, watching me expectantly. A stereo tower, of course. I should've known that.
"I thought you weren't into popular songs?" I asked her with a smile, and she shrugged in response.
"Mom didn't always play classical music."

She joined me, and helped by holding the sides straight up as I got the screws back in place with a screwdriver. There were many things that could be said about my DIY skills, but things like these I knew how to do.
The music had a certain impact on the house, all of the sudden it didn't seem as foreign and silent anymore. True, I'd been living there for about a month by now, but it would take some time to adjust to the dead silence around the house. No swooshing of cars, no honking, chattering, buzzing, ringing – no nothing. Only the singing of the few birds that hadn't flown to the south, the shuffling of small mammals on the cold forest floor, the creaking of the house, whispering of the leaves and dripping of the rain.

It was moments like these that I cherished most. The steady pitter-patter of the rain outside. The smell of wood. The sky growing darker with the hour as the sun set, making the lit room even cozier. Moments when, quoting Guinan from Star Trek, 'it was like being inside joy. As if joy were something tangible and you could wrap yourself up in it like a blanket.' For a while nothing else mattered, there was no future and no past. Only now. There was only here, and you didn't think about anything else. You wish that this would last forever, then realize life goes on and try to enjoy it for as long as it lasts.

In silence we enjoyed Whitney Houston, George Michael, Billy Joel, Queen, Bon Jovi and many, many more artists – some were more appreciated than others. We managed to get pretty far, and halfway through the night most tasks had been finished.

Bella rubbed her eyes, barely able to stay awake after having nearly fallen asleep on the couch multiple times in the past hour. "Hey, I think I'm going to bed, I'm dead tired."
I rose from the ground with a sheepish smile. My clothes were covered in dust and paint, and my hair was a lost case. Same with Bella. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry I've kept you awake for so long. Come, I'll help you set up everything."
"Doesn't matter," she mumbled in response. "Where did we leave the spare mattress again?"
I turned around sharply at that. "No, you're not going to sleep on a mattress. Take my bed."
"But-"
"No buts, I insist." Bella's eyes were drooping, she was much too tired to argue. The clock on the wall showed it was a quarter past two. Had it really been that long? She took a deep breath so as to remain somewhat awake, at least awake enough to make it to the bedroom.
"Come on, let's get you to bed," I suggested with a laugh, nudging her in the right direction.
"How 'bout you?" she muttered, hardly listening as she stumbled forward.
"I am going to sleep on the couch myself – I'm not tired yet, probably the sugar is to blame," I lied. Bella didn't notice, and flopped down onto the one-person bed the moment we entered the bedroom. She didn't bother to take off her clothes or brush her teeth or anything, and instead fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

I sighed with a smile lingering on my lips. Oh Bella.
In her place I bent down and carefully untied her shoes, then changed her in the shirt and sweatpants that formed her nightwear, and lastly tucked her in.
For a moment I lingered around her bed. She looked so peaceful, her chocolate brown hair spread out over the white pillow. She was biting her bottom lip, the way she always did in her sleep. That is, until the talking began. She was a sleep-talker, and usually it was just bits of incoherent mumbling, but sometimes it turned to short (and at times rather embarrassing, may I add) sentences. This would happen for an hour once a night at most, and it was both entertaining and uncomfortable, especially when she happened to confess some weird things. I doubted she knew about it.

Just to be clear, I wasn't a stalker. I didn't go over to her house, then get to her room to watch her sleep or something – no, Bella simply used to sleep over at my place every once in a while. Most of the times it was to give Renée and Phil some space, at least, that's what she said. After some time I learned she actually came to breathe one out. Renée was a sweet woman, and Bella loved her with all her heart, but sometimes taking care of her was too much. I was glad that in those times I was able to provide a safe haven, where she could refill her batteries and rest for a bit.

Safe, a part of my mind snickered. As if.

In a flash the room changed to a smaller, more crowded one. People were sleeping on thin mats under brown rags, in a cold, wooden shanty. Ages varied from just born to a couple in their late forties. Their clothes were tattered and dusty, their limbs and faces tired and dirty from hard work. Through cracks in the wall faint light from the city entered the room and made the bodies inside barely visible. Outside there was a continuous shouting, barking of dogs and the sound of horseshoes on stone. A door was being slammed shut. Giggles erupted from the adjacent room, where the couple that rented this room spent the night. The wind howled.
But what drew my attention was in the center of the room, on the same spot as Bella in reality but then captured between the other bodies. A small girl in fetal position, clutching her blanket tightly as a nightmare plagued her. Her long black hair was tied in a messy braid that reached to her waist. Her brown dress was slightly torn near the waist because she was growing too fast. She was 9 years old, that I knew with certainty.
Caroline…

I quickly shook my head, returning to the present. No, forget it, forget it all. My breathing had increased and my heart was pounding at a faster rate. Don't think about it. Relax. For my own sanity I exited the room, leaving Bella asleep. Outside the bedroom I rested my back against the closed door, and took several deep breaths to chase away the heavy feeling in my chest.
After some time I went to sit down on the couch in front of the window, but first turned off the lights.

The third Monday morning had broken. The sun rose, bright and warm - behind the thick layers of clouds. In reality it turned out to be one of the many cold mornings that month, with the ever present chance of showers. Sitting on the couch near the window I found myself watching the black sky first turn navy, then several shades of dark grey. Twilight set in. It always used to be one of my favourite moments. Between the dark and cold night, mysterious and dangerous, and the day with all its rushes and emotions, there was a short break. The magical moment in which there was neither bad nor good, in which every being was relieved of duty and fate.
Twilight.
The only time when day and night touched, and became as one for the slightest of moments. A moment of hope and relief. A moment in which a certain anticipation wells up inside, a longing to see dark being turned into light or vice versa. It was then that my mind was at peace. Birds began to sing. The scent of morning dew started to spread.
The earth awakened.
It was then, as I was sitting there gazing at the switch of shifts, that I realized that I was… content. Not entirely happy, that was an impossibility, but the warmth in my chest had replaced the anxious feeling from before. It was the same feeling one got when they were drawing in the warm sunlight, and at the same time listened to their favorite music. It was in between emotions, yet on the positive side. A sense of tranquility.
The stars slowly began to fade behind the clouds, and made place for lighter shades of blue. Hours had passed, and not a single moment my eyes had strayed from the sky. Bella had not spilled her guts yet, so the house had remained in silence. This serenity I longed to remain in, but time was merciless. Always had been. True, within a day there would be another twilight, but it wouldn't be the same. Things would have changed, the world would have changed before that. That's the result of an ever changing world.
And I would have changed as well, I just didn't know yet how much.
Today it lasted one and a half hour, or 104 minutes actually (I counted). So far nothing spectacular had happened, and hopefully it would stay that way. School made up most of the days, I got an A on a geography test (I must add it was an easy one), and the band got increasingly better.

This was also what led to an unwelcome yet expected announcement in the music room on the 17th of February. I was in the middle of writing a paragraph about the pros and cons of a government with the trias politica in their fundamental system. Today the band was practicing several songs of the repertoire of the girls choice prom that would be held in May. At the end of each accomplished song the musicians were rewarded by a string of applause, however the more hits passed the less fullhearted it was, and after a while it ceased altogether. It was then that the lead guitarist took the microphone and called for everyone's attention.
"Listen up everyone," he began, "from Wednesday the 2nd on - that's in two weeks - the music room is closed during this hour-" A groan spread through the room. "-because the school orchestra and choir have to practice for an upcoming event, and they'll need all the room they can get. Sorry people," he added with an apologetic gesture. A dismayed muttering buzzed through the audience, and my hand paused, pen hovering above the paper. It was slightly disappointing, for this music room had been the perfect solution to evade the cafeteria. An anxious feeling settled in my stomach at the prospect of having to mingle in the crowd – as one might've noticed, I did not enjoy being in dense areas. It had been less than a minute ago that the announcement had been made and my mind was already persistently making up worst-case scenarios. In Phoenix this hadn't been as much of a problem – sure, it held a 1000+ students, but then again, the school itself was also ten times as big. And since it scarcely ever rained in Phoenix 80% of the people would eat outside on campus, leaving more than enough empty rooms for introverted people like me to seek refuge in. Why then the cafeteria of this high school with 358 people in the small town of Forks was so crowded was beyond me.
On the other hand, I mused as the band began to play Toxic by Britney Spears (the least original song I'd heard so far), I had paid little attention to the present people on that fateful first day, therefore it might be less bad than I was convinced.
Oh well, this had been nice for as long as it had lasted. It was still a week until I would be faced with this problem again, and it would then be decided what I was going to do.
This realization settled my nerves somewhat, and when soon after the bell rang I gathered my books and with a lighter heart I moved on to my next subject.

"For this assignment you'll have to split up in groups of two," Mr. Howard announced during Greek, and my blood froze. Split.. Up? "Together you're going to translate at least one complete tragedy which I'll assign to you. Then at the end of the semester you're going to present it to your classmates. We will spend only one hour per week on this practical assignment, so a part will have to be done outside school hours. Any questions?" The class remained silent. "Good. Now, Samantha and Megan, you two form a group – here is the Antigone. Eric and Andrew, the Oresteia – yes you can go sit together." He began to hand out thick packets of paper. "Nicole and Rebecca, you get Iphigeneia in Aulis." At last he arrived at my table. "And Edward and Avery, you'll do the Medeia."

A nervous feeling settled in my gut – this always happened whenever I was being forced to engage in social activities with strangers. Take a breath, don't overreact, I chided myself. The teacher handed me the pile and I had no choice but to stand up and move to one row further to the back. Slowly, in one hand the papers, the fingers of the other hand slid across the cold surface of the table. Heart beating fast, eyes fixed on the ground. It was too short a distance to properly calm down, but I would manage. Drama queen. It would be awkward, but that would be the end of it.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" I asked out of politeness. Amber eyes met mine with a hint of curiosity.

"No, go ahead," he replied with a voice like velvet, and removed his belonging from that part of the table.

"Thank you. I'm Avery, by the way," I added as I pulled back the chair and sat down, feeling compelled to properly introduce myself despite the likelihood that he already knew. His lips curled into a slight smile.

"Indeed. My name is Edward Cullen."

I nodded, shifting my gaze from him to the table to the pile of papers on the table in front of me. I couldn't reply however since the teacher was faster.

"Before you begin, please notify that you will get a grade on this at the end of the semester, and that means that it will replace the usual test. Please continue." Now that was made clear the atmosphere in the classroom turned much lighter and less bored. As the other groups began planning I also turned to the person next to me.

"Do you prefer to translate separately or per sentence?" Edward kindly asked, and I shrugged, tucking a strand of black hair behind an ear to appear less cold and distant.

"Um, I do not know – whichever you prefer."

"In that case it would seem that taking turns is the most effective, do you agree?" He was more polite and kinder than I had expected – yet another reason why I shouldn't jump to conclusions and instead should socialize more with the people around me. As if you'd actually do that, the other part of me scoffed. Now, focus.

The pile Mr. Howard had given me consisted of two copies of the Medeia by Euridi- no, Euripides. One I gave to my neighbor and the other I opened.

The translating went fluently throughout the hour – on his part at least. Greek wasn't something I could wrap my head around well (the same counts for math, but that is beside the point) and my turns were filled with stuttering and being unable to remember the right meaning of a word. It was, to put it mildly, embarrassing. Edward didn't seem to mind, surprisingly. Perhaps he was too uninterested in the subject to care? No, that didn't make sense in the slightest. Why else would he transfer to a different subject if he didn't hold a certain interest in it? And the ease he translated the sentences made me suspect he had done an advanced program on Greek. Or maybe he just had a knack for it, I did not know. But I appreciated it whenever he helped me out anyway.

When the hour was over we did not converse, but then again I wasn't a people person, hence my gladness.

Now geography – oh joy.