Morning was surprisingly slow paced for my first day, Charlie was already on her way out of the door by the time I came down stairs.
After she left, I just sat at our old square oak table. I was too nervous to eat and had no plans to leave too early.
My eyes wandered around the kitchen, the three mismatched chairs at the table. The kitchen's dark paneled walls and slightly sticky white linoleum floor remained unchanged.
Even the cabinets my dad painted when they first moved in were still a dull yellow with small music notes clumsily painted on the corners, barely chipped after seventeen years.
A collection of pictures adorned the cramped family room, mostly featuring me from birth to tenth grade. Fishing trips and Family friends. Though what really caught my eye was a small photo, barely bigger than a matchbook that sat backwards on the fireplace. Their wedding picture. It made me uncomfortable; it felt like I was spying on her.
I already knew she wasn't over the divorce, I already saw the look on their faces when they were near each other. The tense way they talked on the phone.
Trying to shake off the discomfort, I decided to head to school a bit earlier than necessary.
Of course it was raining when I left, so I quickly grabbed my shiny new waterproof puffer jacket. It wasn't a downpour, just that annoying kind of rainnot enough to soak through my clothes, but just enough to blur my vision as I struggled to lock the door.
As I sloshed through the puddles with my boots, the occasional droplet would find its way onto my head. I hesitated to touch my truck, it was cold and wet. It made a shiver go down my spine.
My truck was dry and cozy but I missed the burning heat of cars back home. The feel of the scorching heat on my back from the over cooked seats.
I was surprised to see how clean the truck was, though the faint smell of cigarettes, gas, and... weirdly enough, peppermint lingered in the air.
The engine was loud, never letting up even after fully warming up. It didn't bother me, it was a part of her charm.
Forks High School was just off the highway, it was easy to find in the little town, clearly marked by a sign. It could be seen just off the turn off, from the distance it looked like a bunch of matching houses hidden behind a thick curtain of trees and shrubs.
At first I assumed I was going the wrong way, even close-up it didn't look like a school. No fenced off driveways or guards posted at the doors with metal-detectors. Just a collection of maroon-colored buildings tucked into the woods.
I parked in front of the first building, it was clearly an office. I sat in my truck for a few minutes staring at the heavy metal maroon door. The idea of spending the rest of my day wet or in my truck fought in my head.
Eventually after my truck started to cool, I took a deep breath and made a mad dash to the building.
I tripped on the wet smooth stone path and brushed my sleeve against the large hedge bordering it, leaving my arm wet and itchy.
The office was warm and impossibly small. Mismatched folding chairs leaned against a dirty wall. The fluorescent lights were old and gave the room a sickly pale yellow glow.
And the floor was covered with a short old brown carpet, speckled with random orange chemical stains along the edges that pushed against the walls, next to a small collection of dusty plastic potted plants.
I walked in closer and leaned my head over the plexiglass at the front desk. There was an older woman sitting quietly absent-mindedly doing a crossword puzzle.
She looked just as I expected, red hair tied up in a messy bun, large bulky glasses that hung at the edge of her nose. She didn't seem to notice I was there.
I came up to the small hole in the plexiglass, "Hey, um, can you help me?"
She jumped a bit dropping her pencil but seemed to understand immediately. "Oh, Billy, right?" She guessed looking through the papers on her desk.
"Bela actually, Bela Swan." I corrected it softly.
"Yeah," she said, "Charlie's kid. I knew you as a baby." she smiled up at me before tossing over several sheets from under the counter. "I got your schedule right here, you need me to show you how to get to class?"
"No, thank you." I said quickly, grabbing the papers. "I'll figure it out."
"No problem," she shrugged slightly, "just don't forget, to get your teachers to sign this paper," she handed me an attendant sheet. "Your first class is in building three."
I nodded, grabbed it, and quickly made my way to the door. The rain had slowed down by the time I got outside and students were filtering in. I quickly got back into my truck and followed the line of traffic to the student parking lot.
The lot was full of cars and trucks that were just as bad as mine. Old and worn down seemed to be the trend in Forks. The nicest car was a shiny Volvo that stood out more than anything.
I sat in my truck a bit longer after cutting off the engine. My leg shook unconsciously as I stared at the small map that came with my schedule.
I doubted I would get lost or have to ask for help but I couldn't help but get nervous at the idea. I wanted to be invisible, focused and done with this as soon as I could.
I took a deep breath, shoving everything into my bag before popping my hood up and joining the flood of students cycling the school.
Building three was easy enough to find, it had a large '3' painted on the side of it. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I walked into my first class. I tried to hold my breath but it was caught in my throat.
The classroom was small, with dirty beige walls and cluttered with posters of famous writers. The two students ahead of me stopped to hang their coats on hooks.
Without thinking, I mimicked their actions and did the same. They were two guys, one with glass like blond hair, the other pale with light brown hair. At least I didn't stick out as the whitest guy here.
English was up first, taught by Mr. Mason, a towering figure with a receding hairline who seemed to have no discernible personality. The moment he spotted my name, his eyes widened in surprise, and he swiftly directed me towards a vacant desk at the back of the room.
While meant as a gesture of goodwill, it only made the staring more noticeable. So, I did what any self-respecting introvert would do: I kept my eyes glued to the desk, out of sight and hopefully out of mind. Maybe they would eventually lose interest once they realized how utterly unremarkable I truly was.
The class itself was easy, The syllabus seemed focused on classical books I had already read either for fun or for class the year before. They were just starting Shakespeare and I accepted that I wouldn't have much to do in that class.
I sketched small cartoons into my notebook, palm trees, music notes and my dad. I imagined asking him to send down my old essays and the face he would make when I told him I was going to use them to cheat.
It felt silly to miss him already; in my head, that was proof I relied on him too much.
Proof I was right to distance myself.
I felt like I was sleeping with my eyes open when I heard the nasal buzz of the school bell. I was stretching when a lanky girl with oily hair walked over to me, her hand extended.
"So, you're Billy Swan?"
"Bela," I corrected, causing nearby glances to dart our way. "You know, like Bela Lugosi. My parents are lame..."
"Cool," she brushed off my comment with a nonchalant wave. Unfazed, she continued with her well-rehearsed lines. "What's your next class?"
"Um, Government. Taught by Jefferson, and it's in building six." My eyes trailed down to my schedule. It felt uncomfortable to talk to her. Her voice was deeper and louder than her looks would suggest. She looked like she was wearing her mom's clothes from the 80s, a big sweater with a college logo and a pair of high rise jeans that nearly reached her chest.
"I'm Erica, by the way," I caught the end of her sentence.
I just stared at her awkwardly, clearly confused. She let out an uneasy laugh, "I said I can show yo—"
"Yeah, thanks!" my words came out before I could stop, I covered my face embarrassed, "sorry…"
She just gestured at the door, "we should go."
As we walked I couldn't help but notice how the other students' eyes seemed to be focused on me. I couldn't understand what was so interesting about me. Was a new face that rare here?
The rain had started hammering down again as we walked, causing us to jog through the grass with our bags over our heads.
"Not quite like your old school, huh?" she asked, breaking the awkward silence.
"Yeah," I replied.
"Bet you didn't see much rain there," she mused.
"Maybe once or twice," I joked absentmindedly.
"Wow, I can't even imagine," she pondered to herself.
"Just think of an oven," I muttered, barely paying attention.
"Where's your tan, then?" she asked.
"My dad's a ginger," I joked, only to be met with silence and her confused face.
I was never funny and yet sarcasm had become my default when uncomfortable. Always guaranteed to make any interaction ten times more uncomfortable.
We made our way around the cafeteria and toward the south of the gym. Erica led me right to the door I needed. It was pretty obvious, but I appreciated the thought.
"Good luck," she wished as I reached for the door. "Hopefully, we'll have more classes together." I gave a small wave as I sheepishly stepped inside.
After that classes seemed to follow a familiar pattern.
Only one teacher made me introduce myself and of course it was Trigonometry. I used the embarrassment as an excuse to bury my head in my desk and take a nap.
Every once and a while someone would talk to me or introduce themselves. They would stare at me like they were waiting for something, then ask the same questions: "Do you like it here?" "Why did you come back?" "Do you remember me?"
It made me uncomfortable so I defaulted to vague, shrugged answers in the hopes they would leave.
A guy sat next to me in Trig and Spanish, he was short and husky with wild dark curly hair, barely reaching my height of five foot five.
I wasn't sure if he said his name or not. But he seemed to enjoy my company enough to want to eat lunch together.
The lunch table was crowded with his friends, and he happily introduced me. I didn't catch all their names, except for Erica, who was also there.
In a lot of ways it was a normal school day with the familiar patterns I was already growing used to.
I assumed there were no surprises in Forks, just a slow paced pattern of familiar faces and lives.
That is until I saw them.
At the far corner of the cafeteria, tucked into a small corner sat five angels. They didn't eat, they didn't talk, and they didn't stare at me like everyone else.
It was so jarring, they were otherworldly, almost glowing. Yet people were staring at me and not them.
And my eyes couldn't leave them, just like the strangers who stalked me with their eyes.
I watched them.
They were strange, simultaneously alike and different.
Among them were two girls - one was a serious-looking giant, with short brown hair and the build of a wrestler. The other was tall, lean, and still carried an air of toughness, with dark thick curly hair which matched her dark complexion.
The guys were completely distinct. One was statuesque with the physique of a swimmer, the kind of guy that made girls swoon and guys aspire to be. His long platinum blonde hair made him look like a girl from behind.
Then there was a shorter guy, resembling an elf straight out of Middle-earth. He had a thin, pixie-like figure and hair that sharply pointed outward making him look like a cartoon character.
Lastly, there was a lanky boy, not as thin or statuesque as the others. He had messy bronze hair and a gentle face. While they all carried an older aura, he felt the most like an actual student.
They looked like real life photoshop, like a magazine come to life. Even for a sunless town like Forks they seemed otherworldly pale like they were missing all of the natural redness of skin.
Yet they all had thick dark circles under their eyes like bruises on their perfect skin.
Suddenly, the elf-like boy gracefully threw away his untouched apple and soda. His steps seemed to be timed to music I couldn't hear, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
Meanwhile, the rest remained unmoved and unchanged, looking at nothing, not even interacting with each other.
I turned to the boy next to me and asked softly, "What's their deal?"
He glanced around the room, his gaze falling on the lanky one. In turn, the boy looked up, and our eyes briefly met - or at least, I think they did. The moment passed so quickly, he looked away faster than I did, and I felt too embarrassed to steal a second glance.
It was weird, it was like he was responding to being called over, like an involuntary response.
My accomplice couldn't help but laugh nervously after being caught spying on the other table.
"That's the kids who live with Dr. Cullen and her husband," he disclosed quietly, sitting back down to face me. "Oliver and Hazel Hale. Emma Cullen and the twins Edward and Arthur Cullen."
"twins?" I said under my breath as I glanced at them from the corner of my eyes, noticing how the lanky boy nibbled on a small piece of his bagel while absentmindedly picking at his apple with long, pale fingers. His mouth didn't seem to move, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that they were engaged in a hushed conversation amongst themselves.
They were peculiar, and I wondered if they belonged to some sort of cult. Their names were old-fashioned, but perhaps that was a thing in this town. I was pretty sure my new friend was named Jesse but Erica wasn't that common where I was from.
"They are something..." I trailed off, struggling to find the right words to describe them.
"Yeah, dude!" Jesse exclaimed, accidentally spitting a bit as he nervously laughed. "They are all, like, totally together! Hazel with Arthur, and Emma with Oliver." He added with evident jealousy, perhaps tinged with some small-town puritanism. But honestly, I'm pretty sure even in Phoenix, this would have been something.
He continued, "It's cool because only like the twine are related. The doctor is super young and took them in when they were little or something." He added with a slightly nervous laugh, "they are like, totally banging."
"They look kinda old," I pondered aloud.
"Yeah, but it's not like they were going to be kicked out once they hit high school," he explained. "The oldest two are only 18, and I'm pretty sure they're set until college."
"It sucks that they're orphans, but they're lucky to have someone looking out for them," I added.
"I know, right?" Jesse admitted, his jealousy evident in his tone. "Probably can't have kids or something," he added with a hint of spite before shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.
Throughout our conversation, I randomly stole glances at the family. They still weren't eating, still staring at walls, moving sporadically as though trying to create an illusion of normalcy.
"So, they haven't always been here, right?" I asked, I can be detached but, could I have honestly missed the weirdo elf kids during one of the summers I came to Forks?
"Nah, they moved here like two years ago from Alaska or something," Jesse said with a shrug, of course it was old news to everyone in this town.
I felt relieved—I wasn't the only newcomer, and I wasn't the most interesting. However, it also made me uneasy. Despite being in Forks for two years, they were still seen as outsiders, still not fully accepted.
I couldn't help but watch them a bit more, specifically the lanky one. His messy hair, his soft yet sharp face, and his pale almost pink lips.
Our eyes met again…
My heart fluttered unexpectedly and I could feel the heat raising to my ears, but neither of us looked away—his dark brown eyes, just as filled with curiosity as mine.
I tapped Jesse a bit, without looking away. "Which one is the lanky one?"
The way he was watching me felt so different from the way the others did. He had a slightly constipated and frustrated expression. It felt like he was expecting something from me that I wasn't quite able to give.
It made me feel uneasy and I couldn't help but look away. I felt guilty for feeling weird and uncomfortable because I could still sense his eyes on me.
Panic flooded my mind for a few seconds, causing me to unconsciously fold myself up, facing my body away from him.
Does he know? He couldn't know. But I was staring…
"Oh, that's Edward," Jesse's voice was tinged with annoyance. "All the girls are crazy about him, despite the fact that he's a loner weirdo," he added bitterly. "Sure, he's tall and okay looking, but whatever," he mumbled under his breath, must be a sore topic.
I bit my lip, trying my best not to laugh. Unavoidably I tried to steal a few more glances from the corner of my eyes, he wasn't staring anymore but there was something else, he was laughing.
I continued to watch him but he never looked back over to me. After a while, they all left the table together, their movements fluid and balletic, even the wrestler.
I wanted to leave too, but it felt weird to just leave when sitting with others. It was hard, not being weird.
Eventually I found myself walking alongside one of the group, Alex, who also had Biology II. He didn't talk and neither did I.
It was nice.
The classroom was white with long wooden tables, two seats to each. By the time we got there the room seemed already full, everyone there, except the seat next to Edward Cullen.
The teacher barely looked at me as he signed my paper and pointed me to the seat next to Edward.
He moved to the edge of his chair as I moved closer to the desk. His hand covered his face and his eyes following me.
I sat down quickly, looking away from him, trying my best to seem as normal as possible. But I was doomed to peek again, he looked so uncomfortable. I unconsciously pulled my hair to sniff it and then at my shirt, assuming I must have smelled bad.
Maybe he just didn't like my cologne?
I moved my chair a bit further away from him, trying to give him space. As I pretended to focus on the upcoming lecture.
Of course, it was another repeat, cellular anatomy.
The class dragged on forever, I couldn't help but sneak glances at Edward, wondering how long he could keep on the very edge of his seat. How long he could look at me.
His fist was clenched so tight that I could see his veins. The tension was practically oozing out of him. It made me realize just how easy it would be for him to hit me, attack me, Kill me…
Panic set in again, I blamed myself for being nosy, Jesse for spreading rumors and the universe for putting me in that situation.
I didn't need to peek to know that he was watching me. I could feel his glare even when my eyes were closed and I was scared.
Scared he saw me for what I was. Scared he was going to attack me and scared I would be alone when he did.
This was my fault. I shouldn't have asked, I shouldn't have looked, I shouldn't have…
The bell sliced through the tension like a knife. Edward leapt up in one fluid motion, he towered over me for a second before he was out the door.
I stared blankly at the closed door, I couldn't think, I couldn't speak. I was stuck.
Was it just because I had asked about him? Or because we had made eye contact earlier? Or simply for no reason at all?
Nothing happening felt worse than something. My body shivered with energy I didn't need and my stomach quivered with pain.
"Um..Billy?" a voice broke through my thoughts. I stared for a bit before I could register who was talking to me.
I was met with warm Hazel eyes, comfortable and curious.
I nodded slowly unconsciously, my eyes naturally trailing to her short curly black hair and beautiful coffee skin.
Before softly correcting her, "Actually, it's Bela."
She giggled softly, leaning toward me slightly, "I'm Michelle."
"Hi, Michelle."
"Do you need help finding your next class?" She asked, her eyes squinting slightly.
"Ah... um, no. I got gym. I'm good." I said anxiously standing up, my legs felt a bit weak. I leaned my hand on the desk trying to seem normal.
"Oh, cool!" she almost shouted, before toning it down. "Me too."
Of course she was just curious like everyone else, someone like her had no business talking to someone like me. But it was fine.
I could still feel my hand shaking anxiously in my pocket, the nerves still fired up with nowhere to go. As far as I was concerned we were using each other.
As walking partners went Michelle was by far the most talkative, though also the best one to look at, so it evened out.
And after a while I had to admit, she was pretty cool. She was also in my English class and had at least ten years of sun before moving to Forks. She had a fun way of talking, often bringing up topics only to shift to something new mid sentence.
By the time we got to the gym she had somehow shifted from talking about California to class again.
"So, what did you do to Cullen? I've never seen him like that," she said, opening the gym door. I winced, not wanting to think about him anymore.
"Are you talking about that dude in Biology?" I asked, trying to play dumb.
"Yeah," she chuckled. "He looked super uncomfortable."
"No clue," I shrugged. "I figured I stunk or something."
"Yeah? That's weird" Michelle leaned close to me and sniffed me. "You smell great to me."
I laughed nervously, almost choking, "well I guess we can rule that out." I backed up slightly and jogged lightly to the guys' locker room. "I'll be back."
I splashed some cold water on my face when I got to the locker room. I couldn't tell if she was just messing with me or not and I didn't want to add it to the collection of things already stomping into my brain.
Gym was a blur, I was forced to run laps since I didn't have a uniform yet. And spent most of my time watching one of the four volleyball games happening.
Once the bell finally rang, I walked to the office to return the slip. It wasn't raining for once, but the wind had picked up. I hugged myself tight, finding comfort in the fact that I knew the office was warm.
When I walked in, Edward Cullen was arguing with the receptionist. Luckily, he was too absorbed in the argument to notice me. I simply stood back and waited for it to be over.
Even in a soft voice, I could gather the gist of their argument. He wanted to switch his Biology class to another time, and it didn't seem to be going his way.
I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault. Michelle seemed convinced I was somehow involved, but really, it could have been about anything. We were strangers, he had no reason to hate me.
It's not my fault.
The door swung open, and a sudden gust of wind swept through the room, rustling papers and blowing my hair into my face.
A girl walked in, tossed her note in the basket, and left without a care.
Edward tensed up immediately, never even bothering to look at me. He knew I was there and I could feel him glaring.
"Nevermind, then," his voice was sharp and clean as a knife, when he turned I held my breath. His eyes held nothing but hate, causing my hair to stand on end. It lasted only a second, but it was enough to send a chill down my spine.
"I'm sorry for wasting your time. Thank you for your help." He muttered under his breath as he stomped towards me. I shifted towards the wall and closed my eyes tight, ready for him to hit me or yell, but he just pushed open the door and disappeared.
Weakly, I walked to the desk, my face even paler than usual, and handed her the slip.
The receptionist, still pretty confused, but asked in a caring tone, "How was your first day, honey?"
With a feeble smile, I responded, "It was great." I don't think I convinced her.
When I reached my truck, there were barely any cars in the lot. I sat there for a while, staring at the windshield. It was quiet, it didn't have the baggage of my life or the confusion of school.
It was just an old truck, aged by someone else's problems, it was comfortable.
It wasn't my fault.
Eventually, the cold became too much, and I had to leave. I had to run away.