CHAPTER ONE First Sight

Thick fog was the only thing visible outside your bedroom window. You could never see the sky here, in Forks. You’ve never minded the rain or the wetness, you’ve lived in Forks long enough for it to not bother you anymore. However, what did make you groan and cringe at the idea of getting out of your warm bed; was school.

Breakfast with your mom was a quiet joy. Not in the sense that you two are quiet, mornings in your house are lively, in this inconsequential town. She is your other half, and short gossip sessions always helps to kick start your mood for the rest of the day.

“Oh, mom,” you call out from the table, stuffing your face with pancakes for breakfast, “guess what I’ve heard?”

Your mother, Julian, hums in response, distracted by making herself coffee. Julian, to you, and to many others, is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. But to you, and only to you, she felt like home. It’s the perks of being her favourite and only daughter.

“There’s this new girl at school, Isabella something. I think she’s in one of my classes.”

“Oh, yes, that’s Charlie’s daughter, from Arizona,” Julian moves the intricate wooden chairs and sits next to you as you finish up your breakfast, wanting to beat the rain. Your mom and Charlie have known each other since after his divorce, bonding over the loss of each others partners, except well, you’ve never known your father or cared enough to.

“I didn’t know he had a daughter,” you say hastily, realising it’s starting to drizzle, soft pitter-patters against the windows. After finishing up breakfast, you grab your coat and mentally prepare yourself, feeling dread creeping up on you at the thought of being wet and cold in the place you dislike the most. Forks High.

“Mm, try talking to her, hun,” Julian says as she mindlessly sips her coffee. You sound in agreement, not really taking her words in, since you’re trying to think on how you’re going to survive this dreaded weather and how much you miss being in bed. She wished you luck at school and after exchanging I love you’s, you left the house first.

I hate winter you thought, hearing the sloshing of your new waterproof boots. You hurried to your car you had gotten for your 16th birthday a few months ago, the misty wet air swirling around your head and clinging into your hair. Inside your car was dry, smelling slightly of tobacco. The car is old, a bit out of date and rusty. Your mom had to ask one of Charlie’s friends, Billy, if his son could fix up the engine. Otherwise, who wants to walk two miles to school? You sigh in relief when the car starts up quickly.

The school was just off the highway. The sign, Forks High School makes you take a big breath in. You’ve never been a person to care about school, the people here never interested you much — besides an incredibly odd group that people like to gossip about — but you’ve always been someone to blend into the crowd. No one particularly took notice of you, but you preferred it that way.

One thing that you learnt to appreciate about Forks, is the greenery. There are so many shrubs and trees surrounding the school that a newcomer would definitely get lost here. You step out your car, slinging your bag onto your shoulders. The sidewalk is crowded with classmates and people you don’t specially pay attention to, you glance around looking for your friends.

Whatever, I’ll find them after class, you think as you make your way to your first class in building three. You’re walking behind a girl, shorter than you and a bit slow. You huff and pass her on the way to the east corner with a black “3” painted onto the white wall.

She’s still behind you, her steps sluggish and hesitant. When you place your coat onto the long rack of hooks, she copies. You take a seat at the back, finally glancing at the girl who was behind you the entire time. Dark haired, incredibly pale, translucent even. She hands a slip to the teacher, Mr Mason, who gawked at her in response, making her turn red. The redness in her face is obvious, in contrast to her colourless skin and the cold atmosphere.

She treads her way to the back of the class, not introducing herself and not making eye contact, eyes down on the reading list in her hands while everyone — including you —stares at the new girl, presumably from Arizona but so pale for a girl from a sunlit city.

The bell rings, a nasal buzzing sound and you tap her, “Isabella Swan?”

”Bella,” she corrected.

“Where’s your next class?”

“Um, government, with Jefferson in building six.”

It’s like she didn’t know where to look. Like she was unable to make direct eye contact with you. Or she just didn’t know what to do with herself, she moved awkwardly.

”I can show you around, I’m reader,” you offer and she mumbles a thank you with a shy smile.

You both got your jackets. A boy, Eric catching up to her. You step aside as he offers to show her around while she dismisses him, telling him you’d be the one showing her to her next class.

“So, this is a lot different from Phoenix, huh?” Eric asks her, flicking his black hair out of his eyes.

“Very.”

“Doesn’t rain much there, does it?”

“Maybe three times a year.”

“What’s that like?” He wondered. You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Sunny.”

“You’re not very tan.”

“My mothers part albino.”

There was a prolonged silence that just caused you to burst out with an airy laugh. Eric doesn’t laugh, but Bella does. She relaxes a little at that, you laughing at her obvious sarcasm that Eric didn’t get. Maybe there’s more to her than her awkward duckling act. Eric walked with you two, past the cafeteria, toward the south buildings.

The rest of the morning passed, mostly uneventful while Bella was stumbling through her classes and while you were wishing the day could be over.

You spotted Bella around lunch, walking with a girl a bit shorter than her, Jessica. Jessica’s curls bounced against her shoulders, taking seats at your usual spot. The table was filled with conversation; Bella’s attention drawn somewhere else.

The Cullens.

“Who are they?” Bella asks, captivated. The Cullens were sitting at the far end of the cafeteria, silent, with trays of uneaten food. The pixie like girl rose with her tray and walked away with a quick, graceful lope, gliding through the back door. They were inhumanly beautiful, everyone could agree on that.

“Edward, Emmet Cullen and Rosalie and Jasper Hale,” you say gesturing to each, “the one who left is Alice Cullen.”

Jessica chimes in, “they all live with Dr Cullen and his wife.”

Bella’s eyes stay locked onto one of the boys, Edward, she says shyly how beautiful they are. Jessica giggles, “I know! Reader, though, isn’t so into them.”

“It’s not that they’re not attractive,” you say defensively, “they’re just not my type. Besides, they’re seeing each other!”

Jessica gives Bella the entire rundown of the Cullens and how they live. You can’t disagree that they aren’t attractive, but well, they are odd. And you do like your person with a bit of colour to them. The Cullens are deathly pale, paler than Bella, and the fact that they barely engage in conversations with each other? Weird weird weird.

“Which one is the one with the reddish brown hair?” Bella asks, clearly having a staring contest you don’t point out.

“Edward Cullen, he’s gorgeous but don’t waste your time. He doesn’t date, apparently the girls here aren’t good enough for him,” Jessica sniffs. Bella tries to hide her smile but was weird to you was that you swore you saw Edward smiling too.

The rest of the day for you was uneventful, and it dragged. Bella walked to her Biology class with one of the other girls seated by the table, Angela. Edward shared her same class. The day ended with you seeing Bella storm into her truck, you didn’t get the chance to catch up to her and just assumed she had a bit of a rough first day.

Hopping into your car you decide that going to La Push would be a better way to end the day instead of going straight home. You send your mom a quick message about where you’ll be and take a mental note if you still have your surfer gear in the truck incase you’re up to swimming in the pacific cold waters.

The drive from Forks to La push is 15 miles, the sun doesn’t peak out today but it doesn’t make the scenery any less beautiful. Passing by the gorgeous dense forest edging into the road, and the wide Quillayute river snaking beneath twice. You’ve been to the beaches around La Push in the summer, learning to love the ocean and familiarise yourself with the mile-long crescent of First Beach. The water was dark grey, heaving into the rocky shore. The beach had a thin border of sand that transitioned into large, smooth rocks around the coast. Across the coastline had driftwood trees, bleached bone white, laying near the forest fringe.

The cool, briny wind slipped through the windows into your car. You listened to the seagulls, the eagles perked high in trees and the pelicans floating on swells.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, your car starting to jerk and make noises that definitely did not sound right. And — screech — a halting stop, forcing you to swerve into a bush. You hit the steering wheel out of frustration and lay your head onto the cold leather.

“Fuck!”

The idea of being stranded 15 miles from home really settles in when your phone refuses to switch on. Damnit damnit. You just about made it to First Beach, so hope was not lost, except the fact no one goes out to the beach in this weather. You’re muttering to yourself frustrations while getting out of your car, maybe kids from the reservation would be around, and if you’re lucky, they’d help you out.

Though you don’t know anyone personally from the reserve, your mom does, but when she invited you to meet them you snuck out of the house to go drinking in the middle of nowhere. So, that’s great, having your experimental phase at 15 when you could’ve been meeting the people who could help you in this exact moment. If your phone was charged, you could’ve called your mom to ask for Billy’s number, so his son could fix up whatever is wrong with your car.

“Mental note,” you say low to yourself, frustration creeping in your tone, “ask mom for Billy’s number or his son’s.” And you kick your car, regretting that because — ouch.

“Need some help?”

The deep, slightly husky voice, caused you to jump a little. You turn around, relieved that you were offered help. But how did you not hear him walking up to you? You ignored that thought, since you were in your head saying obscenities and reliving the moment when you told your mother to not buy this old car off of some old guy. Look what happens, mom!

“Ah— yes, I do,” you stutter over your words, a bit surprised by his presence. Maybe embarrassed if he heard your ramblings and you kicking your car like a child. You took note of the boy in front of you, russet skin and sleek, black hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had dark eyes, lowered eyebrows but a little flush in his cheeks that made him seem more youthful.

“I’m Jacob,” he said, focused on pushing your car out of the bushes with a slight grin, “I think I helped out with this car earlier this year. Is your mom Julian?”

He opens up the front of your car and you cringe at the pile of black smoke coiling into the still air, the breeze settling down with the sun.

“Oh, yeah. I’m — uh — reader.”