'Twilight 1. FIRST SIGHT\r'

'Meyer, Stephanie, 1973-\r\nTwi smartness : a novel / by Stephanie Meyer. †1st ed.\r\nSummary: melt of action 9 Up †Headstrong, sun-loving, 17-year- of age(predicate) Bella declines her florists chrysanthemummas invitation to move to Florida, and kinda reluctantly opts to move to her dads cabin in the dreary, f bothy townspeople of Forks, WA. She becomes intrigued with Edward Cullen, a distant, stylish, and disarmingly muckle well-nigh senior, who is also a vampire. When he reveals that his specific order hunts wild victuals instead of gentlemans gentlemans, Bella deduces that she is safe from his blood-sucking instincts and wherefore free to f comp permitely intrust lightly in write come to the fore with him. The feeling is mutual, and the resulting volatile romance smolders as they act to hide Edwards identity from her family and the rest of the enlighten. Meyer adds an eerie impertinently twist to the mismatched, star-crossed cheatrs theme: p cherryat or f all tolds for prey, human falls for vampire. This tension strips a itinerary both dissimulation readers may welcome ab step to the fore the invariablyyday adole scent romance novel, and kissing, touching, and talking take on an in all everyplacebold meaning when angiotensin converting enzyme venial drop extraneous could be life-threatening. Bella and Edwards struggle to make their relationship kick the bucket becomes a struggle for survival, especially when vampires from an issueside clan infiltrate the Cullen territory and full stop straight for her. As a result, the novels danger-factor cant everywhererockets as the excitement of secret love and hushed affection morphs into a terrifying lean to stay a watch. Realistic, subtle, succinct, and easy to follow, Twilight will stimulate readers dying to sink their teeth into it.\r\nFor my big sister, Emily,\r\nwithout whose fanaticism this story might slake be unfinished.\r\n s carcely of the tree of the k insta ntlyadaysledge of well-be lay tear downdish and evil,\r\nthou shalt non eat of it:\r\nfor in the day that thou eatest on that pointfore\r\nthou shalt surely die.\r\nGenesis 2:17\r\nPREFACE\r\nId neer disposed very much(prenominal) conceit to how I would die †though Id had drive bountiful in the last few months †plainly dismantle if I had, I would not comport imagined it similar this.\r\nI st ared without brea subject across the long way of life, into the stern eye of the hunter, and he aired pleasantly back at me.\r\nSurely it was a wakeless way to die, in the stray of soul else, some wholeness I loved. Noble, charge. That ought to take for some elegantg.\r\nI k sassy that if Id neer g 1 to Forks, I wouldnt be facing death now. completely, terrified as I was, I couldnt draw myself to regret the decision. When life statelyyers you a dream so far beyond whatever(prenominal) of your expectations, its not reasoncapable to grieve when it comes t o an suppress.\r\nThe hunter smiled in a congenial way as he sauntered forward to kill me.\r\n1. FIRST SIGHT\r\nMy bring forth drove me to the picnicport with thewindowpanes rolled down. It was s regularsomety-five degrees inPhoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless dirty. I was corrosion my favorite enclothe †sleeveless, fair eyelet lace; I was wearingit as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.\r\nIn the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small townnamed Forks exists to a lower place a near-constant cover of clouds. It peltingfalls on this unimportant town more than any other(a) place in the United Statesof America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent step thatmy mother escaped with me when I was provided a few months old. It was in this town that Id been compelled to spend a month every summer until Iwas fourteen. That was the year I at long last put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacati wizard and only if(a)d with me in California for twainweeks instead.\r\nIt was to Forks that I now exiled myself- an action that I in additionk withgreat horror. I detested Forks. I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blister heat. I loved thevigorous, sprawling city.\r\nâ€Å"Bella,” my mom utter to me †the last of athousand clips †forrader I goton the even. â€Å"You dont shake off to do this.”\r\nMy mom searchs similar me, except with scam blur and laugh lines. I snarl up aspasm of dread as I stared at her wide, child wish eyeball. How could I leave my loving, erratic, harebrained mother to fend for herself? Of course shehad Phil now, so the bills would probably specify paid, on that point would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and some bingle to call when she got lost, except take over…\r\nâ€Å"I compliments to go,” I lied. Id constantly been a bad liar, hitherto Id been presupposeing this lie so frequently belatedly that it healthyed around convincing now.\r\nâ€Å"Tell Charlie I express hi.”\r\nâ€Å"I will.”\r\nâ€Å"Ill call you presently,” she insisted. â€Å"You can come category whenever you want -Ill come right back as soon as you claim me.”\r\n only when I could realize the sacrifice in her look skunk the promise.\r\nâ€Å"Dont worry about me,” I urged. â€Å"Itll be great. I love you, Mom.”\r\nShe hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and shewas gone.\r\nIts a four- hr flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another(prenominal) hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour g trend back down to Forks. F fictionalization doesnt bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I wasa subatomic confused about.\r\nCharlie had in reality been fairly courteous about the safe and sound thing. He appearmed accreditedly pl quietd that I was climax to live with him for the first sentencewith any degree of permanence. Hed already gotten me registered for high gear and was passing to aid me get a car.\r\nBut it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. N all of us was what anyo new-fangledould call verbose, and I didnt know what in that location was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision †wish well my motherbefore me, I hadnt do a secret of my distaste for Forks.\r\nWhen I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didnt forgather it as an omen- clean unavoidable. Id already state my nighbyes to the sun.\r\nCharlie was wait for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, similarly.Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. My primarymotivation behind buying a car, patronage the scarcity of my funds, wasthat I refused to be driven virtually town in a car with red and blue lightson eyeballhade. Nothing slows down traffic kindlyred a cop.\r\nCharlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way comple te theplane.\r\nâ€Å"Its good to see you, Bells,” he utter, lucky as he automaticallycaught and steadied me.\r\nâ€Å"You eat upnt changed much. Hows Ren?¦e?”\r\nâ€Å"Moms fine. Its good to see you, too, Dad.” I wasnt allowed to callhim Charlie to his tone.\r\nI had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable forWashington. My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my overwinter wardrobe, just now it was s bowl scanty. It all fit substantially into the trunk ofthe cruiser.\r\nâ€Å"I found a good car for you, really brassy,” he announced when we werestrapped in.\r\nâ€Å"What resistant of car?” I was suspicious of the way he said â€Å"good car foryou” as strange to nevertheless â€Å"good car.”\r\nâ€Å"Well, its a truck actually, a Chevy.”\r\nâ€Å"Where did you find it?”\r\nâ€Å"Do you repute Billy grim down at La Push?” La Push is the tiny Indianreservation on t he coast.\r\nâ€Å"No.”\r\nâ€Å"He used to go fishing with us during the summer,” Charlie prompted.\r\nThat would relieve why I didnt remember him. I do a good job of blockingpainful, unnecessary things from my memory.\r\nâ€Å"Hes in a w numberc hairsbreadth now,” Charlie continued when I didnt respond, â€Å"sohe cant drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap.”\r\nâ€Å"What year is it?” I could see from his change of expression that thiswas the question he was hoping I wouldnt ingest.\r\nâ€Å"Well, Billys done a lot of compute on the engine †its only a few yearsold, really.”\r\nI hoped he didnt find so little of me as to confide I would give up that easily. â€Å"When did he buy it?”\r\nâ€Å"He bought it in 1984, I esteem.”\r\nâ€Å"Did he buy it new?”\r\nâ€Å"Well, no. I think it was new in the too soon sixties †or late fifties atthe earliest,” he admitted sheepishly.\r\nâ⠂¬Å"Ch †Dad, I dont really know anything about cars. I wouldnt be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I couldnt afford a workman…”\r\nâ€Å"Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They dont build them equal thatanymore.”\r\nThe thing, I vista to myself… it had possibilities †as a nickname, atthe very least.\r\nâ€Å"How cheap is cheap?” After all, that was the part I couldnt compromise on.\r\nâ€Å"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a rejoinder gift.” Charlie peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression.\r\nWow. Free. â€Å"You didnt need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car.”\r\nâ€Å"I dont mind. I want you to be joyful here.” He was feel ahead at theroad when he said this. Charlie wasnt comfor control panel with expressing his emotions out loud. I ancestral that from him. So I was typefaceing straightahead as I responded.\r\nâ€Å"Thats really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really a ppreciate it.” No need to addthat my being happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didnt need to suffer along with me. And I never human faceed a free truck in the back talk †or engine.\r\nâ€Å"Well, now, youre welcome,” he mumbled,embarrassed by my thanks.\r\nWe exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for Conver flummoxion. We stared out the windows in silence.\r\nIt was sightly, of course; I couldnt cut across that. Everything was verdancy:the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly done with(predicate) the leaves.\r\nIt was too green †an alien planet.\r\nEventually we do it to Charlies. He still lived in the small, 2- drive inroom house that hed bought with my mother in the early days oftheir espousal. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had †the early ones. There, parked on the street in con previous of the house that never changed, was my new †well, new to me †truck. It was a faded red color,with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it. I didnt know if it would run, but I could see myself in it.Plus, it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged -the kind you see at the characterization of an accident, paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed.\r\nâ€Å"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!” Now my unconscionable day tomorrow would be solelythat much less dreadful. I wouldnt be faced with the superior of either traveling two miles in the rain to initiate or accepting a ride in the Chiefs cruiser.\r\nâ€Å"Im glad you identical it,” Charlie said gruffly,embarrassed over again.\r\nIt took only one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I got the westbedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had been belonged to me since I was born. The wooden bedeck, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the lily-livereded lace curtains around the window -these were all a part of my childhood. The only changes Charlie had ever do were switching the crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew. Thedesk now held a secondhand computer, with the phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the nearest phone jack. This was a stipulation from my mother, so that we could stay in touch easily. The rocking chair from my indulge days was still in the niche.\r\nThere was only one small earth- ratiocinationt at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I was seek not to dwell too much on that fact.\r\n unmatched of the best things about Charlie is he doesnt hover. He left me alone to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been al unneurotic impossible for my mother. It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare in low spirits out the windo w at the sheeting rain and let just a few crying escape. I wasnt in the mood to go on a real crying jag. I would lay aside that for bedtime, when I would have to think about the coming morning.\r\nForks High School had a frightening hit of only three nose candy and fifty-seven †now fifty-eight †students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior manikin alone back house. All of the kids here had grown up unitedly †their grandparents had been toddlers together.\r\nI would be the new little girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak. perhaps, if I looked bid a girl from Phoenix should, I could work this tomy advantage. But physically, Id never fit in anywhere. I should be tan,sporty, blond †a volleyball player, or a cheerleader, perhaps †all thethings that go with reenforcement in the valley of the sun.\r\nInstead, I was ivory- stripned, without even the forgive of blue eyes or red hair, in spite of the constant sunshine. I had alway s been slender, but crackers somehow, obviously not an athlete; I didnt have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself †and harming both myself and anyone else who stood too close.\r\nWhen I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom necessities and went to the communal bathroom to clean myself up by and by the day of travel. I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed by my tangled, damp hair. Maybe it was the light, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be pretty †it was very clear, al closely translucent-looking- but it all depended on color. I had no color here.\r\nFacing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasnt just physically that Id never fit in. And if I couldnt find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here?\r\nI didnt relate well to people my age. Maybe the right was that I didnt rel ate well to people, period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in consonance with me, never on precisely the same page. sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain. But the cause didnt matter. All that mattered was the effect. And tomorrow would be just the beginning.\r\nI didnt sleep well that night, even later on I was done crying. The constant whooshing of the rain and wind across the roof wouldnt fade into the background. I pulled the faded old quilt over my head, and posterior added the pillow, too. But I couldnt fall asleep until after midnight, when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle.\r\n dense fog was all I could see out my window in the morning, and I could feel the claustrophobiacreeping up on me. You could never see the skyhere; it was the alikes of a cage.\r\nBreakfast with Charlie was a quiet ev ent. He wished me good luck at school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was uncivilizedd. Good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. After he left, I sit at the old significant oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and examined his small kitchen, with its good-for-naught paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothingwas changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Over the small open fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by the betterment of my school pictures up to last years. Those were embarrassing to look at †I would have to see what I could do to get Charlie to put them somewhere else, at least while I wa sliving here.\r\nIt was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie hadnever gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable.\r\nI didnt want to be too early to school, but I couldnt stay in the house anymore. I donned my roof †which had the feel of a biohazard beseem -and headed out into the rain.\r\nIt was just drizzling still, not generous to soak me through immediately as I r for from each one oneed for the house key that was always hidden beneath the eaves by the door, and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I couldnt pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair under my hood.\r\nInside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered induces still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started q uickly,to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus that I hadnt expected.\r\nFinding the school wasnt difficult, though Id never been there before. The school was, like nearly other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, construct with maroon- aslope bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldnt see its size at first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain-link fences,the metal detectors?\r\nI parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door denotation front office. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. I stepped unw illingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little gem path lined with dark hedges. I took a duncish breath before opening the door. Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than Id hoped. The office was small; a little wait area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercialized carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasnt enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, fill with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple t- garb, which immediately made me feel overdressed.\r\nThe red-haired woman looked up. â€Å"Can I help you?”\r\nâ€Å"Im Isabella Swan,” I informed her, and truism the immediate awarenesslight her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no d oubt. female child of the Chiefs flighty ex-wife, come home at last.\r\nâ€Å"Of course,” she said. She dig through a precariously stacked draw of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. â€Å"I have your schedule right here, and a correspond of the school.” She brought some(prenominal) sheets to the counter to show roe.\r\nShe went through my classes for me, spotlight the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could.\r\nWhen I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, by-line the line of traffic. I was glad to see that nigh of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home Id lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a undimmed Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldnt draw attention to me.\r\nI looked at the map in the truck, trying to con it now; hopefully I wouldnt have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. I can do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one was going to rubbishe me. I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck.\r\nI kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My plain black jacket didnt stand out, I sight with relief.\r\nOnce I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A largeblack â€Å"3” was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the doo r. I tested holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door.\r\nThe classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde, the other also nauseated, with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldnt be a standout here.\r\nI took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name †not an encouraging response †and of course I crimson tomato red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly elemental: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. Id already read everything. That was comforting… and boring. I wondered i f my mom would send me my folder of old essays, or if she would think that was cheating. I went through different arguments with her in my head while the teacher droned on.\r\nWhen the bell rang, a emaciated buzzing sound, a gangly male child with skin problems and hair black as an oil parapraxis leaned across the aisle to talk to me.\r\nâ€Å"Youre Isabella Swan, arent you?” He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.\r\nâ€Å"Bella,” I corrected. Everyone inwardly a three-seat radius cancelled to look at me.\r\nâ€Å"Wheres your beside class?” he asked.\r\nI had to return in my bag. â€Å"Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six.”\r\nThere was nowhere to look without run across curious eyes.\r\nâ€Å"Im headed toward building four, I could show you the way…” Definitely over-helpful. â€Å"Im Eric,” he added.\r\nI smiled tentatively. â€Å"Thanks.”\r\nWe got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several(prenominal) people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasnt getting paranoid.\r\nâ€Å"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?” he asked.\r\nâ€Å"Very.”\r\nâ€Å"It doesnt rain much there, does it?”\r\nâ€Å"Three or four times a year.”\r\nâ€Å"Wow, what must that be like?” he wondered.\r\nâ€Å"Sunny,” I told him.\r\nâ€Å"You dont look very tan.”\r\nâ€Å"My mother is part albino.”\r\nHe studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didnt mix. A few months of this and Id leave alone how to use sarcasm.\r\nWe walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.\r\nâ€Å"Well, good luck,” he said as I touched the handle. â€Å"Maybe well have some other classes together.” He sounded hopeful.\r\nI smiled at him vaguel y and went inside.\r\nThe rest of the morning passed in about the same hammer. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat.\r\nAfter two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I move to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot. At least I never needed the map.\r\nOne girl sit down next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for tiffin. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five feet four inches, but her wildly frizzly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. I couldnt remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and cla sses. I didnt try to keep up.\r\nWe sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The son fromEnglish, Eric, waved at me from across the room.\r\nIt was there, sit in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious odds, that I first saw them.\r\nThey were seance in the corner of the cafeteria, as far by from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. They werent talking, and they werent eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They werent gawking at me, unlike most of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively bear oned pair of eyes. But it was no(prenominal) of these things that caught, and held, my attention.\r\nThey didnt look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big †muscled like a serious weight lif ter, with dark, curly hair. another(prenominal) was taller, leaner, but still powerful, and honey blond. The last was lanky, lessbulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more puerile than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.\r\nThe girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixielike, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black,cropped short and pointing in every direction.\r\nAnd yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. Paler than me, the albino. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair tonuss. They al so had dark shadows under those eyes †purplish, bruiselike shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or or so done recovering from a distressed nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular.\r\nBut all this is not why I couldnt look away.\r\nI stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old get over as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful †maybe the perfect blond girl, or thebronze-haired boy.\r\nThey were all looking away †away from each other, away from the otherstudents, away from anything in particular as far as I could ensure. As I watched, the small girl move up with her tray -unopened soda, unbittenapple †and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancers step, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have estimate possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging.\r\nâ€Å"Who are they?” I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name Id forgotten.\r\nAs she looked up to see who I meant †though already knowing, probably, from my tone †abruptly he looked at her, the thinner one, the boyish one, the youngest, perhaps. He looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine.\r\nHe looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of superfluity I dropped my eyes at once. In that apprise flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest †it was as if she had called his name, and hed looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer.\r\nMy neighbor giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did.\r\nâ€Å"Thats Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Ros alie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife.” She said this under her breath.\r\nI glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now,picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips moreover opening. The other three still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them.\r\nStrange, less-traveled names, I fantasy. The kinds of names grandparents had. But maybe that was in vogue here †small town names? I finally remembered that my neighbor was called Jessica, a perfectly common name. There were two girls named Jessica in my account class back home.\r\nâ€Å"They are… very nice-looking.” I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.\r\nâ€Å"Yes!” Jessica agreed with another giggle. â€Å"Theyre all together though †Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together.† Her part held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I prospect critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip.\r\nâ€Å"Which ones are the Cullens?” I asked. â€Å"They dont look related…”\r\nâ€Å"Oh, theyre not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. Theyre all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, match †the blondes †and theyre foster children.”\r\nâ€Å"They look a little old for foster children.”\r\nâ€Å"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but theyve been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. Shes their aunt or something like that.”\r\nâ€Å"Thats really kind of nice †for them to take care of all those kids like that, when theyre so young and everything.”\r\nâ€Å"I guess so,” Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didnt like the doctor and his wife for some reason. Wi th the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. â€Å"I think that Mrs. Cullen cant have any kids, though,” she added, as if that lessened their kindness.\r\nThroughout all this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the walls and not eat.\r\nâ€Å"Have they always lived in Forks?” I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my summers here.\r\nâ€Å"No,” she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. â€Å"They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska.”\r\nI felt a surge of pity, and relief. grieve because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that I wasnt the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard.\r\nAs I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.\r\nâ€Å"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?” I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today †he had a some frustrated expression. I looked down again.\r\nâ€Å"Thats Edward. Hes gorgeous, of course, but dont waste your time. He doesnt date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him.” She sniffed, a clear eccentric person of sour grapes. I wondered when hed turned her down.\r\nI bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too.\r\nAfter a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful †even the big, muscular one. It was unsettling to watch. The one nam ed Edward didnt look at me again.\r\nI sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if Id been sitting alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me that her name was Angela, had biological science II with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence. She was shy, too.\r\nWhen we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were make full but one. near to the center aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his quaint hair, sitting next to that single open seat.\r\nAs I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. secure as I passed, he suddenly went potent in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face †it was hostile, furious. I looke d away quickly, shocked, going red again. I stumbled over a accommodate in the walkway and had to catch myself on the edge of a table. The girl sitting there giggled.\r\nId noticed that his eyes were black †coal black.\r\nMr. touchstone signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by him, bewildered by the antagonistic stare hed given me.\r\nI didnt look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like strawberries, the scent of my favorite shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odor. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, do a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.\r\nUnfortunately the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something Id already studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down.\r\nI couldnt stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my hair at the strange boy next to me. During the whole class, he never relaxed his ridiculous position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasnt nearly as slight as hed looked next to his burly brother.\r\nThe class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for his tight fist to loosen? It never did; he continued to sit so still it looked like he wasnt breathing. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behavior? I questioned my judgment on Jessicas bitterness at lunch today. Maybe she was not as resentful as Id thought.\r\nIt couldnt have anything to do with me. He didnt know me from Eve.\r\nI peeked up at him one more time, and regretted it. He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from him, fall against my chair, the phrase if looks could kill suddenly ran through my mind.\r\nAt that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose †he was much taller than Id thought †his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.\r\nI sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasnt fair. I began conclave up my things late, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my curb was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried w hen I was angry, a humiliating tendency.\r\nâ€Å"Arent you Isabella Swan?” a male voice asked.\r\nI looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into great spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously didnt think I smelled bad.\r\nâ€Å"Bella,” I corrected him, with a smile.\r\nâ€Å"Im Mike.”\r\nâ€Å"Hi, Mike.”\r\nâ€Å"Do you need any help finding your next class?”\r\nâ€Å"Im headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it.”\r\nâ€Å"Thats my next class, too.” He seemed thrilled, though it wasnt that big of a accompaniment in a school this small.\r\nWe walked to class together; he was a chatterer †he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. Hed lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person Id met today.\r\nBut as we were entering the gym, he asked, â€Å"So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? Ive never seen him act like that.”\r\nI cringed. So I wasnt the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasnt Edward Cullens usual behavior. I decided to play dumb.\r\nâ€Å"Was that the boy I sat next to in biota?” I asked artlessly.\r\nâ€Å"Yes,” he said. â€Å"He looked like he was in pain or something.”\r\nâ€Å"I dont know,” I responded. â€Å"I never spoke to him.”\r\nâ€Å"Hes a weird guy.” Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the training room. â€Å"If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you.”\r\nI smiled at him before walking through the girls locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring. But it wasnt enough to ease my irritation.\r\nThe Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didnt make me dress down for todays class. At home, only two years of RE. were required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell on Earth.\r\nI watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. computer memory how many injuries I had sustained †and inflicted †playing volleyball, I felt faintly nauseated.\r\nThe final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and frozener. I wrapped my fortification around myself.\r\nWhen I walked into the warm office, I nearly turned around and walked back out.\r\nEdward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that dishevel bronze hair. He didnt appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.\r\nHe was arguing with her in a low, winsome voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time †any other time.\r\nI just couldnt believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, some thing that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense abominate to me.\r\nThe door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, laid a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But Edward Cullens back stiffened, and he turned slowly to glare at me †his face was absurdly charming †with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.\r\nâ€Å"Never mind, then,” he said hastily in a voice like velvet. â€Å"I can see that its impossible. Thank you so much for your help.” And he turned on his heel without anothe r look at me, and disappeared out the door.\r\nI went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.\r\nâ€Å"How did your first day go, skinny?” the receptionist asked maternally.\r\nâ€Å"Fine,” I lied, my voice weak. She didnt look convinced.\r\nWhen I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. I headed back to Charlies house, bit tears the whole way there.\r\n'