After unpacking, I anxiously approached Gran, hoping to persuade her to lie down or watch TV while I took a drive. The excitement bubbled within me as I thought about finding the local grocery store and the public library. And, of course, I had to locate the high school since I would soon be a student at Mystic Falls High School. Oh, joy—what a thrilling prospect that was.

Gran's brow furrowed at my suggestion. Before the accident, I could have grabbed the keys to the Honda and taken off on an adventure, even to Arizona, if I promised to return with milk. But ever since then, she had become understandably hesitant about me driving.

"Bella."

"Gran, I have my learner's permit," I said, sounding more confident than I felt.

"Bella."

"Please, Gran?" My eyes pleaded with her, hoping she'd see my eagerness to explore.

"Bella, I don't think—"

I felt the walls of the house closing in around me, the need to get outside growing stronger by the minute.

"We could just drive around and—"

A sharp knock on the door suddenly jolted me from my thoughts, causing me to jump back in surprise. In a sudden panic, I lost my balance and knocked over a fragile clay pot my friend Jessica had lovingly crafted for me at summer camp. It shattered into pieces on the floor, creating a mess that mirrored my emotions.

Fantastic—I needed glue from the store to fix my mistake and have an excuse to leave.

"Are you alright?" Gran asked, her voice filled with concern as she ambled over, her cane tapping gently against the floor. My clumsiness had always made her nervous, but her worries had intensified since the accident.

"Bella," she called, hurrying toward me; her movements quickened despite her age.

I scrambled to my feet, trying to assure her, "I'm fine. I'm fine." But the knot in my stomach tightened when I looked into her eyes, shimmering with unshed tears. "I'm just going to get the door," I added, hoping to distract her.

With a firm breath to gather my resolve, I hurried over to the door and swung it open. Standing on the doorstep were three girls, each with curious expressions and an air of anticipation.

One girl stood out among the trio—a stunning blonde with a luminous, pale complexion and striking blue-green eyes that sparkled like gemstones. Her shoulder-length hair flowed in soft waves, framing her face perfectly. She wore a playful pink tank top layered over a crisp white one, paired with casual denim shorts that accentuated her height, estimated to be around 5'8". The confident air about her suggested she was a cheerleader, radiating a blend of vibrancy and poise.

"Welcome to the neighborhood!" they all chimed, though the blonde's enthusiasm outshone the others.

"Hi," I mumbled awkwardly, casting my gaze away as my cheeks reddened.

It wasn't just shyness that drew my attention away; it was the stark contrast between their stylish attire and my simple clothing: a basic white tee that felt almost plain, ordinary jeans, and sneakers that bore the marks of countless wear. I felt the urge to retreat in their presence as if I were unworthy of standing among them.

"Bella, invite them in," Gran insisted, her voice firm yet inviting.

"Yeah, of course! Come on in," I replied with a hesitant shrug. "As long as you guys aren't vampires," I added jokingly, hoping to break the tension.

A melodic laugh escaped the blonde's lips while the brunette—a captivating girl with rich, dark features—raised an eyebrow as if intrigued. She exuded an exotic beauty, with soulful, deep-set eyes that seemed to hold untold stories. At about 5'2", her petite frame was accentuated by a soft blue camisole and denim shorts, complemented by striking blue sneakers that mirrored the color of her top. Her shoulder-length hair cascaded gently over her shoulders, swaying with each movement.

"I promise, we're not vampires, Bella," she said, her smile warm and disarming.

"How—?" My question faded, half-formed.

"I'm psychic," she teased, eyes glinting with playfulness. "Plus, your grandmother already said your name."

Duh. I mentally kicked myself for my forgetfulness.

I took a step aside, a grin breaking through my earlier nervousness. "Non-vampires welcome!"

"Bonnie," the blonde complained lightly, glancing toward the brunette, who now held out a pie, "don't spook the girl."

The girl with the pie approached me, her movements graceful and inviting. "It's apple; my aunt Jenna and I made it," she said, her voice smooth and melodic.

Her features were striking in their own right; she had an oval face, a light olive complexion, and captivating brown almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with kindness. Beneath her dark, flowing hair, which contrasted beautifully with her complexion, she wore a black lace-trimmed camisole and stylized blue jeans paired with classic black Converse shoes. There was an aura of warmth and light about her, making me feel even more like a gray cloud in their radiant presence.

"Thanks," I said, accepting the still-warm pie, though I felt a bit out of place under her eager gaze.

"My name's Elena," she introduced herself, and the recognition sparked within me, echoing faint memories of someone from my past.

"Bella," I replied, motioning to my grandmother. "This is my grandma, Marie Higginbotham." Gran gave a curt nod in response, her eyes narrow as she assessed the girls.

Elena smiled awkwardly and pointed to the blonde. "This is Caroline Forbes."

Caroline seized my hand enthusiastically, her grip firm and her smile bright, showcasing perfectly aligned teeth that gleamed. "Pleased to meet you, Bella!" she chimed, her voice lively.

"Ditto," I managed, still navigating the complexities of this unexpected encounter.

"How old are you?" she asked, her curiosity palpable.

"I'll be 15 soon," I replied, glancing around.

"Just like my brother, Jeremy."

"So, is it just you, or do you have any cute older brothers?" Caroline's playful banter seemed aimed at lightening the mood.

Her attempt fell flat, and I replied dryly, "I'm an only child."

"Where are your parents?" The question hung in the air like a weight.

I turned away, feeling the familiar wave of discomfort sweep over me. Gran's voice murmured, "Bella's parents died in a car crash a few months ago."

"My parents are—" elena began in croaky voice.

"I don't want to discuss this with strangers," I cut in sharply, trying to recapture my composure.

"So, Bella," Caroline pivoted, "where are you from?"

"Forks, Washington." I dared to meet their gazes.

"You're from Washington?" Elena exclaimed, genuine surprise etched on her face.

"The state, not the District of Columbia," I clarified, sharing the frustration from constant questioning about our origins. Real estate agents and movers would ask if we knew or had seen the president—an absurd assumption.

Elena and Caroline exchanged puzzled looks while Bonnie, the brunette, offered me an understanding smile as if sensing my discomfort.

I had overstepped yet again, managing to offend without even trying.

"So, Miss Higginbotham," Bonnie said quickly, changing the subject, "what brings you to Mystic Falls?"

"Bella and I were born here," Gran interjected.

"Born here?" Elena's eyes darted between Gran and me. "When did you move?"

"I left after my husband died, and Bella's parents left when she was four."

"Wait, Bella Higginbotham," Elena remarked, her brow furrowing in contemplation. "That name doesn't sound familiar."

"Higginbotham isn't my name," I corrected her softly.

"What is your name?" she prodded, her curiosity bordering on intrusive.

It was a simple question, but her intent came across as nosy.

Wait, Elena Gilbert—was that her name? I didn't recall her sharing it.

Before I could respond, Gran came to my rescue. "You'll have to excuse us; Bella and I are going out," she announced firmly. "It was nice to meet you."

As we began to leave, I sensed Gran's disapproval of the girls, especially Elena—perhaps the feelings were mutual.