The drive from the airport felt longer than it was. Raindrops tapped relentlessly against the windows of Charlie's cruiser, filling the silence with a steady, muffled rhythm. Bella sat quietly in the passenger seat, watching the trees blur by in a haze of grey and green, her hands gripping her backpack like it was her only anchor. Charlie tried to break the tension with small talk, asking if she'd had a good flight, if she was hungry. Bella responded politely, but her gaze stayed distant, her answers short. She knew he meant well, but she couldn't let herself feel any warmth or comfort. Not after what happened.
Charlie wanted her to be happy here, but Bella wasn't sure happiness was even possible anymore. She hadn't left Phoenix by choice—she'd been forced to. She couldn't stay, not after what happened. She pushed the thought away, focusing on the steady rhythm of the rain, trying to drown out the memories that clung to her.
Phoenix had been unbearable, each street and corner a reminder of everything she wanted to forget. Moving to Forks had seemed like the only way out—a place where no one knew her, no one expected anything from her. But as the town's quiet isolation settled around her, Bella began to wonder if it had been the right choice after all. What had seemed like an escape now felt like just another trap.
When they arrived home, Bella kept to herself, hiding behind the excuse of unpacking to avoid further conversation. As she placed her clothes in drawers and lined her few books on the shelves, the rain outside grew louder, echoing the storm of emotions she kept tightly bottled up. She stared out her window, watching as mist gathered between the trees, letting the gloom settle over her.
That night, sleep didn't come easily. Her mind replayed everything she wanted to forget, memories surfacing like bruises she couldn't ignore. She buried herself deeper in her blankets, willing the weight of her own thoughts to disappear. When she finally drifted off, it was only to the sound of the rain, muffling her pain in its endless rhythm.
The next morning was a struggle. Bella's reflection in the bathroom mirror looked pale, fragile, like she'd somehow cracked from the inside. She brushed off the thoughts, forced herself to get dressed, and slipped downstairs. Charlie had already left for work, leaving a note on the kitchen counter telling her to drive safe, with a small smiley face scribbled at the bottom. She felt a flicker of warmth but quickly tamped it down.
Bella took a deep breath as she stood outside Forks High School, clutching her backpack a little too tightly. She told herself to keep her head down, avoid attention, and get through the day without drawing notice. She had no room for friendships, no patience for curious questions. And yet, something in the air felt different, as if the day was charged with an unfamiliar anticipation.
Inside the school, Bella moved from class to class, grateful for the lack of interest from most students. A few curious glances came her way, but they didn't linger. She kept her distance, focused on blending in and getting through the day without anyone prying. She was here to exist quietly, just pass the time, and nothing more.
By lunchtime, Bella had found a rhythm. She settled at an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria, opening her lunch bag as discreetly as possible. As she unwrapped a granola bar, her attention was caught by a sudden hush that settled over the room. She looked up, following the line of everyone's stares.
They walked in with an air of confidence that made it impossible to look away. The group, with their flawless skin and strange, golden eyes, seemed out of place in the dreary gloom of Forks, as if they'd stepped out of another world. Even in the bleak, rainy atmosphere, they seemed to shine, as if the light itself bent around them.
"That is the Cullens," a voice said from the table next to her, breaking Bella's focus. She turned to see a girl sitting across the room, her eyes following Bella's gaze. The girl offered a small, curious smile. "I'm Jessica, by the way," she continued, "but everyone just calls me Jess."
She lowered her voice slightly, leaning in a little, as if sharing a secret. "That's Alice, Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie, and Edward. They're kind of… well, different. Really smart, quiet, and they never talk about their past. People say they don't really fit in here."
Jessica glanced back at them briefly before looking at Bella with a grin. "But the way they look—it's like they don't belong at all, right?"
Bella nodded, unsure of what to make of it, but the name "Cullen" seemed to stick with her, like a whisper of something important. Something she couldn't shake.
Bella's gaze drifted across each of them. First, Alice, moving with delicate, graceful steps; then Jasper, his watchful intensity unmistakable. Emmett's wide grin contrasted with Edward's quiet, focused expression. But it was the last of them, the tall, impossibly beautiful blonde, who drew Bella's attention like a magnet.
Rosalie.
The instant Bella's eyes locked onto her, a strange spark jolted through her. Rosalie's expression was fierce, almost regal, and her beauty was like a razor blade—sharp, dangerous, something that could cut if you weren't careful. Bella felt her heart stutter, an inexplicable surge of recognition flooding her senses. Rosalie turned slightly, her gaze catching Bella's across the room. For a fleeting moment, something softened in her eyes, a flicker of something raw and intense.
But it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Rosalie's gaze hardened, her mouth setting into a thin, almost disdainful line. Bella blinked, the hurt prickling under her skin. She forced herself to look away, to act unaffected, but inside, she was reeling. She didn't know why Rosalie's reaction hurt so much—she was practically a stranger. Yet, the brief connection they'd shared felt tangible, like a fragile thread tying her to something she couldn't explain.
Across the cafeteria, Rosalie clenched her fists under the table, her jaw tight. The moment her eyes met Bella's, she'd felt it—an overwhelming pull, an undeniable force she knew all too well. Mates. It was impossible, yet here it was. Bella Swan, a human, had ignited something in her that Rosalie thought she'd buried long ago. But the thought of opening herself up, of letting someone see past the armor she'd built around her, terrified her.
Rosalie tried to shut down the bond, to deny it. She barely knew Bella, but she already sensed the shadows clinging to her—the haunted look in her eyes, the quiet defensiveness in her posture. Bella had her own ghosts, her own pain, and Rosalie knew that getting close would only lead to more heartache. She'd built her life around keeping people out, around protecting herself from anyone who could pierce through her defenses.
So she steeled herself. Rosalie decided that if Bella tried to come closer, she'd be nothing but cold, nothing but the icy, unbreakable wall she needed to be. She couldn't let herself care. She'd spent too many years shoring up her own strength, too many nights reliving her own pain. She wouldn't break those walls for anyone—not even for Bella.
The rest of the day was a blur. Bella tried to keep her focus on her classes, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Rosalie. Every time she passed her in the hallway, she could feel the weight of Rosalie's gaze, sharp and assessing, like she was dissecting Bella from afar. But Rosalie's expression stayed distant, even hostile. Each time Bella dared to look back, hoping to catch some sliver of warmth, she was met with only coldness.
By the time the last bell rang, Bella was exhausted, her emotions frayed. She wondered what she'd done wrong, why Rosalie's reaction to her felt so personal, like Bella herself had somehow offended her. But she didn't have the energy to dwell on it. She drove home in silence, the rain pattering softly against the windshield.
That night, as Bella lay in bed, the day's encounters weighed on her. She thought of Rosalie, of the flicker of recognition she'd felt the moment their eyes met. She wanted to shake off the feeling, to tell herself it was just a passing curiosity. But as the rain continued to fall outside, she knew it wasn't that simple.
Somehow, she felt as though Rosalie Hale had unlocked a door inside her she hadn't even known was there. And as much as she wanted to forget it, to shove down that strange ache in her chest, she couldn't.