{

My dexterity failed me as my shaking fingers attempted to dial the correct number. I was holding the phone too tightly, I knew, but I couldn't relax my grip. Finally, the familiar ringing sound came from the speaker and I pressed the plastic against my ear.

The steady beeping of the 'busy line' sound came through the phone and I pulled it away from my face, ending the call and trying again. And again. And again.

The line was busy – the emergency line was busy!

I sunk to my knees and grasped my head in my hands, trying to pull myself together. I let out a small shriek of frustration as the hysteria continued to build, and stormed out of the house with my car keys in hand. I started the car and drove off in a hurry toward the capitol building, hoping and praying that it was OK – that she was alright.

}

-Chapter 3: Welcome to Forks High-

I stared up at the dusty, off-white ceiling as I lied on my bed. Microscopic cracks ran through the plaster, and I wondered just how long it had been since anyone had painted this room. It was somewhere around six in the morning on a Monday, and I could clearly hear Charlie shuffling around in his room, getting dressed.

His door opened down the hall and heavy, sneaking footsteps drew closer to my door. I closed my eyes and relaxed my muscles, giving the illusion of sleep as my door cracked open with a squeak that was anything but quiet. After a few seconds, the door was closed again and I reopened my eyes, staring at my door as Charlie descended the stairs and walked into the kitchen.

I was conflicted on my lack of nighttime habits. Staying spread out in a bed I don't need all night, having nothing to entertain myself with, was absurdly boring. Sometimes I would let my mind drift, freely thinking and imagining anything it wanted to – my mother often starred in these fantasies of a future I would never have. Other nights, I would stare out of the window by my bed, counting the stars and trying to find the various constellations.

I never went out, though; I always conserved my energy. I never got tired unless I was hungry – that much was a truth – but the more physically active I was, the more often I needed to go out and feed. And so, I always remained immobile at night, lying awake in my bed as I pretended to sleep for Charlie's sake.

Charlie's footsteps led out the door and I heard his car start and drive away down the street toward the police station, fading out of my range of hearing. I glanced at my digital clock and sighed, realizing it was time to get up and get dressed for school – my first day of school.

I dressed quickly, pulling on the same pair of jeans I had worn on the drive into Forks and the long-sleeved green shirt that was still unworn. Luckily, there were still clothes here from my infrequent visits over the years, though about half of them didn't fit. Still, I would have a wider selection than three shirts and a pair of pants to cycle through. I pulled on my socks and shoes and walked across the hallway and into the bathroom.

My reflection grimaced back at me as I peered into the mirror. The person before me looked too innocent to be such a monster – too frail and weak. My sharp, brown eyes stared back at me, their predatory glint the only break in my otherwise oblivious-looking appearance.

I looked around the rest of the bathroom, checking to make sure nothing had to be done before I left for school. I didn't need a shower and I certainly didn't need to use the toilet, so I turned around and walked out as I kept my eyes off the mirror. I grabbed my hoodie from the coat hanger downstairs and locked the door behind me as I stepped outside.

It was the middle of November, but the weather here was nothing like Arizona. It was much colder than I had expected it to be, my breath visible in the chilled morning air. The sun was hidden behind the thick layer of clouds in the sky, and I wondered if I would need a better jacket than the simple hoodie I had on. Surly normal people would be bundled up in this weather.

I shook the thought from my head and walked to my new truck. I had on enough clothing that no one would question me; I would shop for a warmer coat the next time I was in Port Angeles or Seattle. The ancient Chevy started with a roar of power, shaking the frame and making me smile at the sound. It wasn't quite a tank, but it was damn sturdy. I cranked the shifter into reverse and backed out of the driveway, heading toward the school building.

I missed the entrance to the parking lot of the school on my first pass, not expecting the 'school' to actually be a collection of small buildings. I was used to busy hallways and crowded cafeterias, but if the size of the 'school' was anything to go by, I would be shocked if there were three hundred people on the whole campus – including faculty.

My loud truck maneuvered into the lot near the tiny building with the word 'office' painted across the front door, and I shut off the engine before I jumped out. I entered the office and cleared my throat to get the red-haired secretary's attention. She jumped and looked at me in confusion for a moment.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Isabella Swan – I'm new here. I need to get my class schedule."

"Oh, of course," the slightly-chubby secretary said, jumping into motion and shuffling papers around on her desk. "Isabella Swan. We've been expecting you." She handed me a piece of paper with my schedule printed on it and I thanked her as I walked back outside.

Cars were just starting to arrive in the parking lot a bit further down, which I assumed was reserved for students, so I hopped back in my truck and followed the line of vehicles. I parked near the front, so I wouldn't have to walk through the lot to get to my first class – Spanish. I climbed out of my truck and pulled my hood up as I walked toward the building marked 'B,' which was where the classroom was located.

I could, of course, hear most of the whispers about me as I walked up to the shack of a building. I was distracted, though, and paid them no mind as students wondered who I was and what I looked like. I hadn't given it a second thought, since Forks was so different from Phoenix, but there was no security guarding the school. No metal detectors at the doorways and no stationed guards monitoring the grounds.

The infection hadn't even touched here, and I wondered if any of the students had even heard about what happened in Arizona. I'm sure it was on the news – of course it was – but there was no fear of exposure here for these people; they walked freely and without worry.

A part of me felt guilty for bringing the danger to them, but another, larger part reveled in it – in the 'out of sight, out of mind' approach that was so unhealthy, yet so seductive. Regardless, it made me more resolute in my decision to make things different here; to start over and be Bella Swan.

The first few classes flew by faster than I had imagined. I had been made to introduce myself in two of them, but at least doing so alleviated some of the questions some of the students had been asking me. It was a little disconcerting, how person after person would ask me how I liked Forks or why I moved here. Most would smile and introduce themselves as well, and even if I wasn't so focused on keeping my body in a human shape, I was sure I would still be unnerved by the attention.

But that's not all there was to the feeling – the tingle that went up my spine. I felt…tense, for lack of a better word. It wasn't quite 'fear,' but my senses were on high alert like a normal person jacked up on caffeine; I was unable to relax. It was during Calculus, the class right before lunch, when I found the source of my strange nerves.

I sat down in the empty seat Mr. Varner directed me toward after another awkward introduction. My head instantly went into my hands as I could feel the stares of nearly every student in the room on me. I could also feel the hint of anger and embarrassment building up, so I tried to block everything else out as I waited for the pompous math teacher to begin the lesson.

"Hi," a quiet voice said to my right. I turned to find a brown-haired girl with glasses smiling shyly at me. "I'm Angela Weber." I smiled at her, noticing that she didn't assume who I was – even though she probably already knew – or ask me why I moved here.

"Bella Swan," I replied back, feeling the urge to rend Mr. Varner into pieces fade to a more manageable level.

I turned back to the front of the class as Mr. Varner began to write an equation on the board, silently signaling the other students to open their notebooks and copy it down. I followed their example and began to scribble it down on my notebook paper, when the door to the classroom was nearly slammed into the wall.

I flinched, gripping the wooden desk I was sitting at and wincing as I heard it crack under my strength. Many of the students – and even the teacher – also started at the abrupt interruption. A pale boy stormed in with a twisted expression painted on his face like he was out to kill someone, and my eyes widened as his gaze locked with mine.

He was tall and lanky, with wild reddish-brown hair that seemed to have a life of its own. His features were perfectly symmetrical, and without blemish, though my eyes continued to scan for an imperfection on his skin. There was something wrong with him – something obvious I was missing – but I couldn't place it.

My insides twisted against my strained control as I stared into his onyx eyes, feeling that familiar shiver go up my spine. I didn't know how I knew, or why, but this boy was dangerous. I fought back against my instincts, which wanted to slice and kill and get away from this boy. Our staring contest was ended by good ol' Mr. Varner, who cleared his throat and admonished the boy on his rude – and late – entrance into the classroom.

"Mr. Cullen," he said. "So nice of you to show up to class; I trust you have an explanation for your tardiness?" I stared at the wood-grain surface of my desk, willing myself not to look at the Cullen boy.

"I apologize for being late to your class, Mr. Varner," he replied in a velvet-smooth voice. "My sister forgot her history book in my car; I had to go unlock it for her. I assure you, it will not happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Mr. Varner replied in a superior tone, ending the scene and allowing the class to resume the lesson.

The Cullen boy sat down on the other side of Angela, who was looking at him in both confusion and worry. The boy shook his head at her before he gave a slight nod, looking resigned, and snapped his attention to the front of the classroom. Angela followed his example, and soon the strangeness evaporated into a mostly-mundane Calculus lesson.

Lunch was next, and I dutifully followed the direction the rest of the students were heading toward as I replayed the incident with the Cullen boy in my head – I didn't even know his first name. A chatterbox of a girl named Jessica invited me to sit with her at lunch, which I unfortunately accepted. I reminded myself, as Jessica told me about her boyfriend, Mike, that it was good for me to make friends.

The cafeteria was larger than I had expected from my first few classes. It wasn't quite the size of the one at my school in Phoenix, but it seemed more appropriate for the much smaller number of students Forks High held. I followed Jessica to the salad bar and filled my plate with lettuce, spreading a miniscule amount of Italian dressing over the green leaves.

The table I sat at was uncomfortably full, every seat taken as Jessica and I took our places. I ducked my head as the table's population looked at me with curiosity, unscrewing the cap from my water bottle and taking a small sip. I pursed my lips at the feeling of the liquid in my mouth; it was cold and strange as it sloshed and was eventually absorbed into my body.

Almost nothing from my previous life was compatible with my body, I had soon discovered after I woke up like this. I had no taste buds, as far as I could tell, and so anything I tried to eat would be nothing but a tasteless mass, usually slimy and uncomfortable. The chunks I had managed to swallow in my first attempts were forcefully expelled by my body, sometimes back through my mouth and other times pushed through my skin, like some twisted form of osmosis.

Water was different, though. I suppose the best comparison I could make would be chewing gum. It's not nutritional, and not needed for my survival, but I am able to take it into my body without any violent effects.

"Hi, everyone, this is Isabella," Jessica introduced. "Bella, this is Mike, Tyler, Lauren, Katie, and Eric." She pointed to each of them as she said their name and they nodded to me or waved.

"It's just Bella," I put on a smile. "And it's nice to meet you." Smalltalk erupted around the table, leaving me free to relax into myself and enjoy the time away from class.

My mental siesta was interrupted by that unnerving feeling, and I looked around the healthily-crowded cafeteria, searching for the source. My eyes locked on a table against one of the walls, populated with five people. I recognized Angela and the Cullen boy from Calculus class, but the other three I had never seen before.

The one who immediately drew my attention was an enormous, dark-brown-headed brick shithouse of a man who was sitting across from Angela and the unnamed boy. I say man, because there was no way anyone could look at the size of his arms and not feel slightly afraid. His face was open, though; quite a contradiction to his intimidating muscles. A smile stretched across the wide space between his cheeks like it was a permanent fixture, making him seem somewhat friendly.

The blonde girl sitting closely next to him was painful to look at. If I thought the Cullen boy in Calculus had perfected features, she had an overly-perfected beauty. I couldn't place her expression; it was almost void of emotion, like a poker player, and she seemed to be closest to the muscled man next to her.

The last girl, sitting on Angela's other side, was…tiny. That was the easiest and most obvious way to describe her. She was sitting down, so I might have been a few inches off, but she couldn't have been more than five foot tall with her shortly-spiked, raven-black hair. I was unable to see her face, but I assumed she had the same strange symmetrical beauty the others – save Angela – seemed to have.

"Bella?" Jessica's voice called, drawing my attention back to my table. "What are you looking at? Oh." She followed my gaze to the table I was staring at across the cafeteria and scrunched her nose, as though she could smell something bad. "Looking at the Cullens?"

"They're all Cullens?" I questioned, my eyebrows rising. That would be quite a large family, though it explained why they looked so similar.

"Well, no," Jessica whispered, leaning in like she was about to tell me a bit of juicy gossip. "Angela Weber is dating Edward Cullen, the one sitting next to her. He, Emmett – the huge guy – and Alice – the weird, little one – are all related. They were all adopted by Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, who can't have children of their own." She said that last bit with distaste, like it made them less-than-human that they couldn't conceive.

"What about the blonde?" I questioned, noticing the girl in question turn her head and glare at me with goldenrod-colored eyes. The color was odd, especially since Emmett had the same colored eyes as her – perhaps a shade lighter. But, Jessica hadn't said the two were related.

"That's Rosalie Hale," I didn't have to see the eye roll to know it was there. "She's a foster kid or something and she's with Emmett; like, with Emmett."

"Oh," I replied, nodding like I understood where her dislike came from. "I only had Edward in one of my classes so far; I don't think he likes me very much." I recalled the pure-black eyes that glared at me, wondering what I had done to upset him.

"The Cullens don't like anyone," another girl with blonde hair sneered. "Well, except for Angela." I frowned at the remark, but didn't comment. I had the feeling this girl – Lauren, if I remembered correctly – wouldn't appreciate me telling her Angela was quite nice to me.

I took another small sip of my water as I resumed my unhealthy Cullen-watching, trying to figure out what my instincts were trying to tell me besides dangerous. My eyes scanned over their skin one-by-one, comparing it to Angela's, and I stilled as I finally noticed what I should have seen all along.

My predatory sense of sight allowed me unparalleled vision, even in the blackest of nights, and so I was able to see things across the cafeteria at a level a normal person would need a microscope to see. The surfaces of their faces – of all the Cullens – were perfect; too perfect. The tiny hairs and pores that wove together on the skin of a normal human were missing completely with them.

I continued to stare in wonder at them, even as Edward shook his head and a nearly-silent hiss escaped one of their mouths.

What were they?

End notes: So there you go; Bella's first encounter with the vampires.

Jasper probably won't be in this story since, if you think about it, Alice found Jasper and brought him to the Cullens. Since they're not mates in this story, Alice never had the vision of Jasper and never went to wait for him.