Page 7 - Second Helpings - Twilight Ch. 1 & Ch. 2

Episode Date: May 15, 2026

We have all died every day waiting for this re-release of "Jackie's Book" as she reads "Twilight" Chapters 1 and 2! Want even more Page 7? Support us on Patreon! Patreon.com/Page7Podcast Subscribe to SiriusXM Podcasts+ to listen to new episodes of Page 7 ad-free.Start a free trial now on Apple Podcasts or by visiting siriusxm.com/podcastsplus. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

I have died every day, waited for you. Darling, don't be afraid. I have loved you for a thousand years. I love you for a thousand more. Oh my God. Does that song have a strong hold on my heart? Yes, it does. But does it have a stronghold on yours?

I bet it does. And yeah, we're talking to why babies, y'all. Because for those that aren't aware, maybe you weren't a Patreon member back in the day. I know recently I was talking with MJ and Kara and Kara was like, what Twilight thing did you do? And I feel that everybody needs to be reminded of the journey that we started in 2020. Now, I've been doing audio books here for some years now. And in 2020, when everything, you know, I think a couple of us remember what happened at 2020. And I was really trying to think of ways to make content where I didn't have to rely on poor MJ who had two very, very small children.

And also dealing with, you know, just the regular life of it all of not. being able to go anywhere. I was like, what can I make? What can I do? And really, even though I had started, I think I started with Model Land, Tyra Banks's Model Land, which is definitely over on the Patreon if you want to check it out. But I did jump into Twilight fairly early on. And for those that don't know, I started doing the audiobook over on Jackie's Book Club. I refer to it as Jackie's book club, if you've always been curious, it's essentially like a riff tracks version of audiobooks that I do, where I have sidebars and I have side conversations and I want to talk to people and discuss the book as we go through it. Now, part of what I do in Jackie's book club

is I don't read the book first. And if you're an audiobook narrator, that is actually the opposite of anything you should ever do when starting an audiobook. You need to know all the characters. You need to know what the, you know, the spectrum of events. You need to know a lot about where the characters begin and where they progress to. This is not what I did with Twilight. Twilight, all I knew about it was that I thought they were vampire fuckbooks. I knew that people were obsessed with them.

I knew that people were Team Edward or Team Jacob. And that was pretty much it. I knew that obviously I worked in pop culture, so I knew all the hubbub and I knew everything that like how Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart were absolutely everywhere during this and their relationship. And so it's like I had followed it but never really knew what was going on with it. And then I started reading it here. And this is why I wanted to put this episode out on the main feed. because it kind of got hidden in the world of Patreon. This is just the first chapter, or I think the first chapter or first couple of chapters

of Twilight that I wanted to drop in here to let y'all know that over on the Patreon that we have been doing for eight years, I think, over on the page, which is crazy to me, that my, I actually, I had my sister come in and she helped me organize every, everything on the Patreon so that they are now collections so you can easily find the different books. And of course, some of it was like back in the day, like specifically like Riverdale Roundup where that was only on the made feed and it wasn't really on the Patreon. So we're trying to figure out some of that stuff. But I just wanted to give you the gift of, I think that it's fairly early in it, because like I didn't even know how more me these books were either.

I, and for those of you that also don't really know that much about Twilight, I imagine you've heard a scream about it before. But I would love to entice you to go on this journey because, you know, or if you've read Twilight before, if you want to hear them, I'm going to say, the majesty of me in real time as I read it, find out these things over a long period of time. might I welcome you to me reading every all the twilight books including Midnight Sun and yeah do I do Charlie's voice as a goofy voice the entire time? Yes I do. I didn't really know that ACAB except for Charlie really existed in my life. So he sounds like goofy for five books. So you know, it's if you can handle a Jackie's. Uh-oh, my God, it's Twilight Jockey's version.

It's for Twy babies. So, like, let's get out of our current reality just for a little bit and fall into the world of Forks. I mean, like I said, it was such a journey that I ended up going to Forks for my honeymoon. It's really become a weird little cornerstone of my. being. So if you are curious and you never had a reason to start Twilight, maybe this is your reason. And I will, I guarantee you, I get better as I get to know Bella more. Because, wow, the more I get to know Bella and I'm just like, this bitch, you know you don't have to choose either one, right? You know you don't have to go for either one of them, right? But that's not where we start.

So please welcome the beginning of this journey through twilight that we go on together. And hopefully you'll pop on over to the Patreon. And you can swallow up for $5 a month. You can swallow up as much of it as you want. There are, I'm going to say it, many books that I've done this for over all the Patreon. So come check out Jackie's Book Club. Or are you a feed? I would understand if you are.

But don't be a feed. Welcome to Forks. Welcome back to the beginning of the rest of your life. Is it as overdramatic as I assume the rest of this book is? You're damn straight. We're starting at Chapter 1, First Sight. My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was 75 degrees in Phoenix.

the sky a perfect cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt, sleeveless, white, eyelet lace. I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka. In the Olympic Peninsula of Northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near constant cover of It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old.

It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was 14. That was the year I finally put my foot down. These past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead. It was to Forks that I now exiled myself, an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks. I loved Phoenix.

I loved the Phoenix. sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous sprawling city. Bella! My mom said to me, the last of a thousand times before I got on the plane. You don't have to do this. My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, hair-brained mother to fend for herself?

Of course she had fill now, so the bills would probably get paid. There would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still, I want to go. I lied. I'd always been a bad liar. But I'd been saying this lie. so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now. Tell Charlie I said hi.

I will. I'll see you soon, she insisted. You can come home whenever you want. I'll come right back as soon as you need me. But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise. Don't worry about me, I urged. It'll be great. I love you, Mom.

She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone. It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me. The hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about. Charlie had been really fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.

But it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what anyone would call verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision, like my mother before me. I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for forks. When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it. an omen, just unavoidable. I've already said my goodbyes to the sun. Sidebar. I just, I love, I immediately love this character. As much as I want to be like, oh God, Bella.

I mean, seriously, I was exactly like this at this age. So I understand. I'm immediately get it. I do, I just, everything was like, of course it's raining outside. I already put the sun in the grave where I knew it was going to be all along. Or maybe I, I know that I wasn't the only completely truly overdramatic teenager. Uh-oh, y'all, I am pages. I'm only a couple of pages in and I'm like, I get this. I'm excited.

All right, sorry. She just said her goodbyes to the sun. We'll jump back in. Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting to. Charlie is police chief swan to the good people of forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds,

was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights. on top. Nothing slows down traffic, like a cop. Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane. It's good to see you, Bells, he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. You haven't changed much. How's Renee? Mom's fine. It's good to see you too. Dad. I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his face. I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington.

My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was still scanty. It all fit easily inside of the trunk of the cruiser. Sidebar, sorry, I said scanty. so confused and sexually at the same time. I just, I don't think I know, scanty, I don't think I've ever said scanty before. And it just, you know what, straight up 14 on the inside, thought, thought it was like panty. I was like, ho-ho-ho-ho-ha. Scanty sounds like panty.

I'm really getting into my teenager dumb here. Uh-oh. Oh, poor Jeff. All right, jumping back in. I found a good car for you. Really cheap. He announced when we were strapped in. What kind of car?

I was suspicious of the way he said good car for you, as opposed to just good car. Well, it's a truck, actually. A Chevy. Where did you find it? Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push? La Push is the tiny Indian reservation on the coast. Now?

He used to go fishing with us during the summer, Charlie prompted. That would explain why I didn't remember him. I do a good job of blocking painful, unnecessary things from my memory. He's in a wheelchair now. Charlie continued when I didn't respond. So he can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap. What year is it? I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he was hoping I wouldn't ask.

Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine. and it's only a few years old, really. I hoped he didn't think so little of me as to believe I would give up that easily. When did he buy it? He bought it in 1984, I think. Did he buy it new? Well, no. No.

I think it was new in the early... 60s or late 50s at the earliest He admitted sheepishly Oh Dad I don't really know anything about cars I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong

And I couldn't afford a mechanic Really Bella The thing runs great They don't build them like that anymore The thing, I thought to myself. It had possibilities as a nickname at the very least. How cheap is cheap. After all, that was the part I couldn't compromise on.

Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you as a homecoming gift. Charlie peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression. Wow. Free. You didn't need to do that, dad. I was going to buy myself a car. Well, I don't mind. I want you to be happy here.

Sidebar, now her father has become goofy in my mind, so I'm just going to lean into that. I'm going to assume he is a cop Maybe it's because he's a cop And it'll be to do that But I think it's just You know, he's trying He's trying and just

And thinking of all the times Of me as as As a, you know, I'm a teenager And any time anyone tried To do something nice to me And I was like Ugh

I said I was going to do it myself Dad I'm through it You know what I'm being thrown down Memory Lane And I like You know what? I feel like lately I haven't been angsty enough. So it's time. We're bringing it back now, y'all. All right, we're jumping back in. He was looking ahead of the road when he said this.

Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him. So I was looking straight ahead as I responded. That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it. No need to add that my being happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer along with me. And I never looked a free truck in the mouth or engine.

Well, now, you're welcome. He mumbled, embarrassed. by my thanks. We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for conversation. We stared at the windows in silence. It was beautiful, of course.

I couldn't deny that. Everything was green. The trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a can, canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves. It was too green, an alien planet. Eventually, we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the same small two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had, the early one.

There, parked in the street in front 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, it. I didn't 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 scene of an accident, paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed. Wow, Dad, they love it. Thanks. Now my horrific day tomorrow would be just that much less dreadful.

I wouldn't be faced with the choice of either walking two miles in the rain to school or accepting a ride in the chief's cruiser. Oh, I'm glad you like it. Charlie said gruffly, embarrassed again. I took only one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar It had belonged to me since I was born The wooden floor

The light blue walls The peaked ceiling The yellowed lace curtains around the window These were all a part of my childhood The only changes Charlie had ever made Were switching the crib for a bed And adding a desk as I grew The desk now held to say

second-hand 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 for my baby days was still in the corner. There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact. One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover. He left me alone to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether impossible for my mother.

It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look pleased. A relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let us. just a few tears escape. I wasn't in the mood to go in a real crying, jag. I would save that for bedtime, when I would have to think about the coming morning. Forks High School had a frightening total of only 357. Oh, now 58 students.

There were more than 700. people in my junior class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together. Their grandparents had been toddlers together. I would be the new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak. Maybe if I looked like a girl from Phoenix should, I could work this to my advantage. but physically, I'd never fit in anywhere. It should be tan, sporty, blonde, a volleyball player, or a cheerleader, perhaps,

all the things that go with living in the valley of the sun. Instead, I was ivory-skinned, without even the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, Despite the constant sunshine, I had always been slender, but soft somehow, obviously not an athlete. I didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself, and harming both myself and anyone else who stood too close. When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom, and went to the communal bathroom to clean myself up after the day of travel. I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed through my tangled, damp hair.

Maybe it was the light, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be pretty. It was very clear, almost translucent looking, but it all depends. on color. I had no color here. Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn't just physically that I'd never fit in. And if I couldn't find a niche in a school with 3,000 people, what were my chances here? I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never on exactly the same page.

Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seen through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain. but the cause didn't matter. All that mattered was the effect. And tomorrow would be just the beginning. Sidebar. I get it.

I get it. I'm with y'all. I get it. Okay. I'm here for it. It's like, you know, I think that this comes well after reading Rebels, City of Inger, the story of Lex and Libya, because I do feel that Bella,

and of course this is, you're just hearing me from all I know so far. I feel like Bella is a combination of the two characters from Lex and Livia, where she is just that like, I'm special, but I'll never have been anywhere. But also, I want to have friends, but I never got to have friends. Which really does reflect the brain.

of, or at least maybe just my experience, of what you go through at this age pretty well, except for like, you know, the whole slender part, but I don't understand that part. But I'll give it to her. And also, that car sounds pretty sick. All right, I'll jump back in. I didn't sleep well that night. Even after I was done crying. The constant whooshing of the rain and,

wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background. I pulled the faded old quilt over my head and later added the pillow too. But I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle. Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning and I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. You could never see the sky here. It was like a cage. Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He wished me good luck at school.

I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. After he left, I sat at the old square. oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and examined his small kitchen with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothing was changed. My mother had painted the cabinets 18 years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Over the small 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 procession 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 was living here. It was impossible being in this house not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable.

I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay. in the house anymore. I donned my jacket, which had the feel of a biohazard suit, and headed out into the rain. It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I reached for the house key

that was always hidden under 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 couldn't 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.

Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline and peppermint. The engines started quickly 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 hadn't expected. Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was the school. Only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks.

There were so many trees and shrubs, I couldn't see its size at first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain link fences? The metal detectors. I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading 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 to the rain like an idiot. I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door. Inside, it was brightly lit and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small, a little wading area with padded folding chairs,

orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered 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-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed. The red-haired woman looked up, Can I help you? I'm Isabella Swan, I informed her and saw the immediate awareness lighted her eyes.

I was expected. A topic of gossip, no doubt. Daughter of the chief's flighty ex-wife. Come home at last. Sidebar. I just... Girl, no one cares about a fucking teenager coming into the high school. Or maybe this has been...

Maybe the town is small enough that everyone's like, But, blah, blah, bu. Although, you know what? I've never, I will be fair. You know what? I've never lived in this small of a town before. So maybe she would be the topic of a conversation. Maybe I'm being the bitch here.

And I'd gladly call myself a bitch today for a hamburger tomorrow. Well, that doesn't make any sense, Jackie. All right. Us. She said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. I have your schedule right here and a map of the school.

She brought several sheets to the counter to show me. She went through my classes for me, highlighting 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. When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive.

I drove around the school following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home, I'd 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 shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me. I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now. Hopefully I wouldn't 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 bite me. I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck. I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My plain black jacket didn't stand out.

I noticed with relief. Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A large black three was painted on a white sky. square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door. The 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 pale, with light brown hair.

At least my skin wouldn't be a standout here. I 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 flushed. 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 basic. Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I'd already read everything. That was comforting. and boring. I wondered if 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. When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick, leaned across the aisle to talk to me. You're a, you're Isabella Swan, aren't you? He looked like the overly helpful chess club type. Bella, I corrected, everyone within a three-seat radius turn to look at me.

Well, where's your next class? He asked. I had to check in my bag. Um, government. with Jefferson and Building 6. There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes. I'm headed toward Building 4. I could show you the way.

Definitely overhelpful. I'm Eric, he added. I smiled tentatively. Thanks. We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid. So this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh? He asked. Very. It doesn't rain much there, does it? Three or four times a year.

Wow. What was that be like? You wondered. Sunny, I told him. You don't look very tan. My mother is part albino. What? Why? Just be nice to him. Be nice, him.

He's trying to help you out. Man alive, but I understand. understand. Oh my God. Am I going to buy Jinko's while living life on the side as Bella Swan? I know that's a very different type of forlorn than she is, or at least according to, you know, what I know of how she is in the movies. But it's just, I feel like I need to be sitting here wearing Jinkos. I guess, you know what? I'll get out my family, my family value tour shirt. I know I have it somewhere. And I'm going to sit here.

I'm not going to listen to Lincoln Park today. I will not listen to Lincoln Park today. But I might listen to it. Bitches getting angsty. All right. He studied my face apprehensively. And I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't.

mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm. We walked back around the cafeteria to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked. Well, good luck, he said as I touched the handle. Maybe we'll have some more classes together. He sounded hopeful. I smiled at him vaguely and went inside. The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion.

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 back to my seat. After 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 tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot.

At least I never needed the map. One girl sat next to me in both Trigg and Spanish, and she walked with her. me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. I couldn't remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes. I didn't try to keep up. We sat at the end of a full table with several of her. 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 boy from English, Eric, waved at me from

across the room. It was there sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers that I first saw them. They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They weren't gawking at me, unlike most of the other students,

so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. but it was none of these things that caught and held my attention. They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big, muscled like a serious weightlifter with dark curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blonde. The last was lest. lanky, less bulky, with untidy bronze-colored hair.

He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in a college, or even teachers here rather than students. The girls were opposites. The tall one was statue-esque. 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 of 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 pixie-like, thin in the extreme with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short, and pointing in every. direction. And 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 and hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes, purpleish, bruise-like shadows, as if they were all suffering from a sleepless night

or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular. But all this is not why I'm. I couldn't look away. I 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 master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful, maybe the perfect blonde girl, or the bronze-haired boy. They were all looking away, away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small girl rose from her tray, unopened soda, unbitten apple. and walked away with a quick, graceful lobe 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 thought possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging. Who are they? I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I'd forgotten. As she looked up to see who I meant, though already knowing probably from my tone, suddenly 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 darkest, eyes flickered to mine.

He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment, I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest. It was as if she had called his name, and he'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer. My neighbor giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did. That's Edward and Emmett Cullen

and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one you left was Alice Cullen? They all lived together with Dr. Cullen and his wife. She said this under her breath. I glanced, Sideways at the beautiful boy, and was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly. His perfect lips barely opening. The other three still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them. Strange, unpopular names, I thought. 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. They were two girls named Jessica in my history class back home. They are... Very nice-looking. I struggled with the conspicuous understatement. Yes, Jessica agreed with another giggle.

They're all together, though. Emmett and Rosalie and Jasper and Alice, I mean, and they live together? Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. But if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, It would cause gossip. Which one are the Cullins? I asked. They don't look related. Oh, they're not.

Dr. Cullen is really young. In his 20s or early 30s, they're all adopted. The hails are brother and sister, twins, the blondes, and their foster children. They look a little old for foster children. They are now. Jasper and Rosalie are both 18, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that.

That's really kind of nice for them to take care of all those kids like that when they're so young and everything. I guess so. And I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though, she added, as if that lessened their kindness. Throughout all this conversation,

my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continue to look at the walls and not eat. Have they always lived in forks? I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my many summers here. No. She said, in a voice that implied it should be obvious,

even to a new arrival like me. They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska. I felt a surge of pity and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that I wasn't the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard. As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullins, 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. 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 slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again. That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him. She's sniffed. a clear case of sour grapes.

I wondered when he'd turned her down. Oh, ho. Ooh, that is, I'm sorry, sidebar. Low key, such a bo. That's such a mean thing to say. I wonder when he turned her down. Ha! Clear case of sour grapes.

I am, I just want to, I know you guys are wondering, like, oh, well, how's Jackie? What's Jackie thinking about? I know that they are, I'm going to assume that they've been around for many generations. So are we allowed to say that they're pretty? Are we allowed? Because in my brain, I am in high school looking at these dudes. Because the thing is that, of course, I've never slept with a vampire before, to my knowledge. But I definitely have slept with people that if I found out they were vampires, it would

make a lot of sense. And not in the what we do in the shadows kind of way, like where it's fun. More like in a, oh, that's why you're so emotionless and so shitty to be. But goddamn, you pretty. So in my brain, this is a safe space, I feel that I am loyinely eroticated by these vampires. And I'm just going to say that now because I'm going to go ahead and assume that anyone that has read this book that we're supposed to feel this way, even though they are high schoolers. But technically doesn't that mean that they're very, they're very old though, right? Are they that kind of vampire?

I know that you can't answer me right at this second. And I could look it up, but I don't want anything to be surprised for me. So I'm just going to assume. I'm erotically interested. Ooh, he's so bad. Ooh, he doesn't date anybody. Ooh, he's alone. Ooh, he wants to be left alone.

Oh, God, am I being like Melissa Joan Hart from Can't Hardly Wait right now? Yes, bitch. All right. Let's jump back in. I 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.

After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful, even the big brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again. I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if I'd 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 biology too with me the next hour.

We walked to class together in silence. She was shy too. When 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 filled, but one. Next to the center aisle,

I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single, open seat. As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face. It was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I stumbled over a book in the walkway and had to catch myself on the edge of a table. The girl sitting there giggled.

I'd noticed that his eyes were black. Cole black. Mr. Banner 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 he'd given me. I didn't 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, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher. Unfortunately, the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down. I couldn't 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 stiff 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 wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly brother.

The 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 wasn't breathing. What was wrong with him?

Was this his normal behavior? They questioned my judgment on Jessica's bitterness at lunch today. Maybe she was not as resentful as I thought. It couldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't know me from Eve. I 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, shrinking against my chair, the phrase, if looks could kill, suddenly ran through my mind. At 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 I thought. His back to me. And he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat. I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn't fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts, and usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.

Sidebar, same girl, same. Oh, girl, I hear you, we just cry when we're upset. Oh, baby, I have a feeling that we're going to be crying a lot more together as time. Goals. Uh-oh. Seems like we're about to meet another boy. Aren't you Isabella Swan? A male voice asked.

I looked up to see a cute baby-faced boy. His pale blonde hair carefully gelled into orderly spruce. Spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously didn't think I smelled bad. Bella, I corrected him with a smile. A Mike. Hi, Mike. Do you need any help finding your next class? I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it. That's my next class, too.

He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small. We walked to class together. He was a cheddar. He supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California until 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 I'd met today. But as we were entering the gym, he asked.

So, did he stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that. I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And apparently, that wasn't Edward Cullen's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb. Was that the boy I sat next to in biology? I asked artlessly.

Yeah, he said. He looked like he was like in pain or something. I don't know, I responded. I never spoke to him. He's a weird guy. Mike lingered by me. instead of heading to the dressing room. If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you.

I smiled at him before walking through the girl's locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring, but it wasn't enough to ease my irritation. The gym teacher, coach clap. Oh. unfortunate name, huh? Yeah, just making old-timey STD jokes. Always got my

finger on the pulse, guys. Like, as they still call it the clap, right? Everybody still calls it the clap. Maybe, you know what? Maybe I do have my finger on the pulse. Thank you guys. Thank you so much. Anyway, we're jumping back in. The gym teacher, Coach Clark. found me a uniform but didn't make me dressed down for today's class.

At home, only two years of PE were required. Here, PE was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell on earth. Sidebar, I fucking hear that girl. I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained and inflicted playing volleyball, I felt faintly nauseated. The 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 colder. I wrapped my arms around myself. When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out. Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free. He was arguing with her in a low, attractive 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. I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be about something else. Something 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 dislike to me. The 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, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again.

But Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he turned slowly to glare at me. His face was absurdly handsome, with piercing hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of a 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. Never mind then. He said hastily in a voice like Velvet. I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help. And he turned on his heel without another look at me and disappeared out the door. I went meekly to my desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the sign to slip.

How did your first day go, dear? The receptionist asked maternally, Fine, I lied. My voice weak. She didn't look convinced. When 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. He 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 Charlie's house, fighting tears the whole way there. First chapter it is, y'all. First chapter it is. I, as now that back to back, I've read Modeland and then Rebel City of Inger, the story of Lex and Livia, I know a bad book. Now I'm getting more clear of the pacing of a bad book and when you know in the beginning.

I get it. I'm sucked in. Immediately. I'm, you're, you. I'm immediately sucked into this. You know what it is? I think the reason why I never got into it or looked into it's because I knew I was going to feel this way. And I appreciate all of the sentiments that from all y'all that have reached out and commented to me about like, I really didn't want to like it. And then fuck me. Oh, no, I like it. Oh, welcome to the Thunderdome, bitches.

The fucking Vampire Thunderdome. Bitches. Chapter 1. What is up my sexy little vampire friends? Man, we need some sort of theme song for Twilight. I don't know if there is, is there a big common, like, is there a through line song-wise that I should know about, that I should start singing at the top of every chapter? Because I'm dedicated now, y'all. I'm in it.

And yes, I may have just acted. accidentally poured coffee all over my feet and my shoes. I just stopped. Don't worry. I clean them up. But you know when after you spill a bunch of coffee on yourself and even though it's gone, it's not really because you just, now I smell like the bean itself. So I just hope that the waffs of bean really are with you as well as they are with

me in the reading of this. Chapter 2 of the first book of Twilight. The chapter is titled, Open Book. I wonder if it means about her feelings. Because I feel like Bella's not actually an open book about her feelings. I think that she might actually be closed. I'm excited. Also, I want to see this now.

If I start going back to my middle school years and cutting out people's faces and taping them to the front of a notebook so that everybody knows the type I'm sexually attracted to. Please don't blame me and don't, don't be like, oh, Jackie, you're too old to be doing that kind of stuff. I'll do it with age. I'll do it with daddies. I make my daddy book.

Don't worry. It's not going to be, you know, I'm not going to go back to like my BSB days. Although technically, they were all of age. All right. I'm going to start reading the book now. I promise. The next day was better and worse. It was better because it wasn't raining yet, though the clouds were dense and opaque.

It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit by me in English and walked me to my next class, with chess club Eric glaring at him all the wild. That was flattering. People didn't look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Mike, Eric, Jessica, and several other people whose names and faces I now remembered. I began to feel like I was treading water instead of drowning in it.

It was worse because I was tired. I still couldn't sleep with the week. wind echoing around the house. It was worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trigg when my hand wasn't raised and I had the wrong answer. I was miserable because I had to play volleyball. And the one time I didn't cringe out of the way of the ball, I hit my teammate in the head with it.

And it was worse because Edward Cullen wasn't in school at all. All morning I was dreading lunch, fearing his bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to confront him and demand to know what his problem was. While I was lying sleepless in my bed, I even imagined what I would say. But I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to do it. I made the cowardly lion look like the Terminator. But when I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica, trying to keep my eyes from sweeping the place for him and failing entirely, I saw that his four siblings of sorts were sitting together at the same table, and he was not with them. Mike intercepted us and steered us towards his table.

Jessica seemed elated by the attention and her friends quickly. joined us. But as I tried to listen to their easy chatter, I was terribly uncomfortable, waiting nervously for the moment he would arrive. I hope that he would simply ignore me when he came and prove my suspicions false. He didn't come, and as time passed, I grew more and more tense. sidebar, just like the hot little goth girl, just like, oh, no, oh, no, I'll have him. I don't look at me. Oh, me God, he doesn't look at me. I don't look at me. Bitch, you know. Did you know what you want? You know what you want. One is vampire lips on your teeny tiny goth girl lips. We all know this, sorry. I just, you know, I get, like, excited about the flitters, you know?

I am 14 going on 33. Anyway, I walked to biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, he still hadn't showed. Mike, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class. I held my breath at the door, but Edward Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and went to my seat. Mike followed, talking about the upcoming trip of his to the beach. He lingered at my desk till the bell rang. Then he smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a girl with braces and a bad perm. It looked like I was going to have to do something about Mike, and it wouldn't be easy.

In a town like this, where everyone lived on top of everyone else, diplomacy was essential. I had never been enormously tactful. I had no practice dealing with overly friendly boys. I was relieved that I had the desk to myself, that Edward was absent. I told myself that repeat,

but I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason he wasn't there. It was ridiculous and egotistical to think that I could affect anyone that strongly. It was impossible. And yet, I couldn't stop worrying that it was true. When the school day was finally done, and the blush was fading out of my cheeks from the volley. ball incident. I changed quickly back into my jeans and navy blue sweater. I hurried from the girls' locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever friend for the moment.

I walked swiftly out to the parking lot. It was crowded now with fleeing students. I got in my truck and dug through my bag to make sure I had what I needed. Last night, I had. I had. Last night, I had I discovered that Charlie couldn't cook much besides fried eggs and bacon. So I requested that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay. He was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall. I also found that he had no food in the house. So I had my shopping list and the cash from the jar in the cupboard labeled food money. And I was on my way to the thriftway.

I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the heads that turned in my direction, and backed carefully into a place in the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. As I waited, trying to pretend that the ear-splitting rumble was coming from someone else's car, I saw the two Cullins and the Hale Twins getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo. Of course. I hadn't noticed their clothes before. I'd been too mesmerized by their faces.

Now that I looked, it was obvious that they were all dressed exceptionally well, simply, but in clothes that suddenly hinted at designer origins. Why, Jesus Christ. With their remarkable good looks, the style with which they carried themselves, they could have worn dishrags and pulled it off. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn't look like it brought them any acceptance here.

Now, I didn't fully believe that. The isolation must be their desire. I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be opened by that degree of beauty. They looked at my noisy truck as I passed them, just like everyone else. I kept my eyes straight forward and was relieved when I finally was free of the school grounds. The Thriftway was not far from the school, just a few streets south off the highway. It was nice to be inside the supermarket. It felt normal.

I did the shopping at home, and I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly. The store was big enough inside that I couldn't hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me of where I was. When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find in open space. I hoped Charlie wouldn't mind. I wrapped potatoes and foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak and marinade, and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge. When I was finished with that, I took my buck bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed.

into a pair of dry sweats, pulled my damp hair up into a bony tail, and checked my email for the first time. I had three messages. Bella! My mom wrote, Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you already.

I'm almost finished packing for Florida, but I can't find my pink blouse. Do you know where I put it? Bill says hi, Mom. I sighed and went to the next. It was sent eight hours after the first. Bella, she wrote. Why haven't you emailed me yet? What are you waiting for?

Mom. The last was from this morning. Isabella, if I haven't heard from you by 5.30 people, EM today. I'm calling Charlie. I checked the clock. I still had an hour. But my mom was well known for jumping the gun. Ma'am, calm down. I'm writing right now.

Don't do anything rash. Bella. I sent that and began again. Mom, everything is great. Of course it's raining. I was waiting for something to write about. School isn't bad. Just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sat by me at lunch.

Your blouse is at the dry cleaners. You were supposed to pick it up Friday. Charlie bought me a truck. Can you believe it? I love that. It's old, but really sturdy. Which is good. You know, for me.

I miss you too. I'll write again soon. but I'm not going to check my email every five minutes. Relax, breathe. I love you. Bella. I had decided to read Wuthering Heights, the novel we were currently studying in English, yet again for the fun of it.

And that's what I was doing when Charlie came home. I'd lost track of the time, and they hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steak into broil. Bella? My father called out when he heard me on the stairs. Who else? I thought to myself. Hey, Dad, welcome home.

Thanks. He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I bustled about the kitchen. As far as I was aware, he'd never shot the gun on the job. But he kept it ready. When I came here as a child, he would always remove the bullets as soon as he walked in the door. I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose. What's for dinner?

He asked, Wearily. My mother was an imaginative cook, and her experiments weren't always edible. I was surprised and sad that he seemed to remember that far back. Steak and potatoes, I answered, and he looked relieved. He seemed to feel awkward standing in the kitchen doing nothing. He lumbered into the living room to watch TV while I worked. We were both more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steaks cooked and set the table.

I called him in when dinner was ready, and he sniffed appreciatively as he walked into the room. Smells good, Bill. Thanks, we ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't uncomfortable. Neither of us was bothered by the quiet. In some ways, we were well suited for living together. So, how do you like school? Have you made any friends?

He asked as he was taking seconds. Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Jessica. I sit with her friends at lunch. And there's this boy, Mike, who's very friendly. Everybody seems pretty nice. With one outstanding exception. Oh, that must be Mike Newton. Nice kid.

Nice family. His dad owns a sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off all the backpackers who come through here. Do you know the Cullen family? I asked hesitantly. Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great man.

They, uh, the kids are a little different. They don't seem to fit in very well at school. Charlie surprised me by looking angry. People in this town. He muttered. Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon, who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here.

He continued getting louder. We're lucky to have them. Lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community, and all those kids are well-behaved and polite. I had my doubts when they first moved in with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them, but they're all very mature. I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for the children.

children of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should. Camping trips every other weekend. Just because they're newcomers, people have to talk. It was the longest speech I'd ever heard Charlie make. He must feel strongly about whatever people were saying. I backpedaled. They seemed nice enough to me.

I just noticed they kept to themselves. They're all very attractive. I added, trying to be more complimentary. You should see the doctor. Charlie said, laughing. It's a good thing he's happily married. A lot of the nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him rant.

We lapsed back into silence as we finished eating. He cleared the table while I started on the dishes. He went back to the TV. And after I finished washing the dishes by hand, no dishwasher. I went upstairs unwillingly to work on my math homework. I could feel a tradition in the making. That night,

It was finally quiet. I felt asleep quickly, exhausted. The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday, I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the students at school. In gym, the kids of my team learned not to pass me the ball and to step quickly in front of me

if the other team tried to take advantage of my weakness. I happily stayed out of their way. Edward Cullen didn't come back to school. Every day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Cullins entered the cafeteria without him. Then I could relax and join in the lunchtime conversation. Mostly, it centered around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Mike was putting together.

I was invited, and I had agreed, to go, more out of politeness than desire. Beaches should be hot and dry. By Friday, I was perfectly comfortable entering my biology class. No longer worried that Edward would be there. For all I knew, he had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for his continued absence. ridiculous as it seemed. My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Charlie, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend.

I cleaned the house, got ahead of my homework, and wrote my mom more bogusly cheerful emails. I did drive to the library Saturday, but it was so poorly stocked that I didn't bother to get a card. I would have to make a date to visit Olympia or Seattle soon and find a good bookstore. I wondered idly what kind of gas mileage the truck got and shuddered at the thought. The rain stayed soft over the weekend, quiet, so I was able to sleep well. People greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning. I didn't know all their names, but I waved back and smiled at everyone.

It was colder this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on Wethering Heights. It was straightforward, very easy. All in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I thought I would feel by this point. more comfortable than I'd ever expected to feel here. When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other.

The wind bit at my cheeks, my nose. Wow! Mike said. It's snowing. I looked at the little cottoned fluff. that were building up along the sidewalk and swirling erratically past my face. Oh, snow. There went my good day.

He looked surprised. Don't you like snow? No, that means it's too cold for rain, obviously. Besides, I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes, you know? Each one you need. and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips. Such a bitch.

Snow is beautiful, Bella. Haven't you ever seen snow fall before? He asked incredulously. Sure I have. I paused. On TV. Mike laughed. And then a big squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of his head.

We both turned to see where it came from. I had my suspicions about Eric, who was walking away, his back toward us, in the wrong direction for his next class. Mike apparently had the same notion. He bent over and began scraping together a pile. pile of the white mush. I'll see you at lunch, okay? I kept walking as I spoke.

Once people start throwing wet stuff, I go inside. He just nodded, his eyes on Eric's retreating figure. Throughout the morning, everyone chattered excitedly about the snow. Apparently it was the first. snowfall of the new year. I kept my mouth shut. Sure, it was drier than rain until it melted in your socks. I walked alertedly to the cafeteria with Jessica after Spanish. Mush balls were flying everywhere. I kept a binder in my hands, ready to use it as a shield if necessary. Jessica thought I was hilarious, but something in my expression kept her from lobbing a snowball at me

herself. Mike caught up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about the snow fight as we got in line to buy food. I glanced toward their table in the corner out of habit, and then I felt. I feel. I feel. I feel. I froze where I stood. There were five people at the table. Jessica pulled on my arm. Hello, Bella. What do you want? I looked down. My ears were hot.

I had no reason to feel self-conscious. I reminded myself. I hadn't done anything wrong. What's with Bella? Mike asked Jessica. Nothing, I answered. I'll just get a soda today. I caught up to the end of the line. Are you hungry?

Jessica asked. Actually, I feel a little sick. I said. My eyes still on the floor. They waited for them to get their food and then followed them to a table. My eyes on my feet. I sipped my soda slowly.

My stomach churning. Twice, Mike asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling. I told him it was nothing. But I was wondering if I should play it up and escape to the nurse's office for the next hour. Ridiculous! I shouldn't have to run away. I decided to permit myself one glance at the Cullen's family table. If he was glaring at me, I would skip biology, like the coward I was.

I kept my head down and glanced up under my lashes. Sidebar, yes, if you're asking if I'm doing this right now, I have thousand percent am. Can you feel that I am looking down she, but then looking up just to the little bit. None of them were looking this way. I lifted my head a little. They were laughing. Edward Jasper and Emmett all had their hair entirely saturated with melting snow.

Alice and Rosalie were leaning away as Emmett shook his dripping hair toward them. They were enjoying the snowy day. just like everyone else. Only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us. But aside from the laughter and playfulness, there was something different. And I couldn't quite pinpoint what that difference was. I examined Edward the most carefully.

His skin was less pale, I decided. flushed from the snow fight maybe. The circles under his eyes much less noticeable. But there was something more. I pondered staring, trying to isolate the change. Bella, what are you staring at? Jessica intruded, her eyes following my stare. At that precise moment,

his eyes flashed over to meet mine. I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to conceal my face. I was sure, though, in the instant our eyes met, but he didn't look harsh or unfriendly as he had the last time I'd seen him. He looked merely curious again, unsatisfied in some way. Edward Cullen is staring at you. Jessica giggled in my ear. He doesn't look angry, does he?

I couldn't help asking. No? She said, sounding confused by my question. Should he be? I think he likes me. I confide it. I still felt queasy. I put my head down on my arm.

The Cullins don't like anybody. Well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them. But he's still staring at you. Stop looking at him. I hissed. She snickered, but she looked anyway. I raised my head enough to make sure that she did, contemplating violence if she resisted.

Mike interrupted us then. He was planning an epic battle of the blizzard and the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. Jessica agreed enthusiastically. The way she looked at Mike left little doubt that she would be up for anything he suggested. I kept silent. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared. For the rest of the lunch hour, I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table.

I decided to honor the bargain I'd made for myself. Since he didn't look angry, I would go to biology. My stomach did frightened little flips at the thought of sitting next to him again. I didn't really want to walk to class with Mike as usual. He seemed to be a popular target for the snowball snipers. but when we went to the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison. It was raining, washing all traces of the snow away and clear icy ribbons down the side of the walkway. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased.

I would be free to go straight home after Jim. Mike kept up a string of. complaints on the way to building four. Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling idly on the cover of my. notebook. I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing. Hello, said a quiet musical voice. I looked up, stunned that he was

speaking to me. He was sitting as far away from me as the desk aloud, but his chair was hair was angled towards me. His hair was dripping wet, disheveled. Even so, he looked like he'd just finished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his flawless lips, but his eyes were careful. My name's Edward Cullen. He continued. I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan.

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now. I had to speak. He was waiting. But I couldn't think of anything conventional to say. How do you know my name? He stammered.

He laughed a soft enchanting laugh. Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town's been waiting for you to arrive. I grimaced. I knew it was something like that. No. No? I persisted stupidly.

I meant why did you call me Bella? He seemed confused. Do you prefer Isabella? No, I like Bella, A said. But I think Charlie, I mean my dad, must call me Isabella behind my back. That's what everyone here seems to know me as. I tried to explain, feeling like an utter moron. Oh.

He let it drop. I looked away awkwardly. Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. Ugh, the slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tips cells into the faces of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In 20 minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.

Get started! He commanded. Ladies first, partner. Edward asked. I looked up to see him smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that I could only stare at him like an idiot. Sidebar, I'm assuming that, you know, I'm slamming all this together because I can only imagine. Can you imagine? I know how I was.

Maybe I'm acting this too close to the chest. Can you imagine? Like, I can't even imagine. Every time, oh my God, his name was Kevin, and every time Kevin got close to me, I just be like, like I was a cartoon character. And it was the reason why, the only reason why my entire junior year,

I would go to class in the morning, because I didn't want to miss first period, because I would just walk past him in the hallway between first and second period. Isn't that insane? You think about those things when you were that age and it was my everything.

Walking past him so I could smell whatever a colonie put way too much of on just to smell him. God, I've always been horny. Anyway, I'll get back to the book. I imagine she's horny for that vampire kiss

except the kiss. is gonna take out her blood. Or I could start, if you wish. The smile faded. He was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent. No, I said, flushing. I'll go ahead. I was showing off just a little.

I'd already done this lab, and I knew what I was looking. for. It should be easy. I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40x objective. I studied the slide briefly. I guess it's 40 times, 40 times objective. My assessment was confident. Pro phase. Do you mind if I look? He asked as I began to remove the slide. His hand caught mine to stop me as he asked. His fingers were ice cold,

like he'd been holding them in a snowdrift before class. But that wasn't why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When he touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us. I'm sorry, he muttered, pulling his hand back immediately. However, he continued to reach for the microscope. I watched him, still staggered, as he examined the slide for an even shorter time than I had.

Prophase, he agreed, writing it neatly in the first space on our worksheet. He swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then he glanced at it, cursorily. Anapace, he murmured, writing it down as he spoke. I kept my voice indifferent. May I? He smirked and pushed the microscope to me. I looked through the eye.

peace eagerly, only to be disappointed. Dang it, he was right. Slide three? I held up my hand without looking at him. He handed it to me. It seemed like he was being careful not to touch my skin again. I took the most fleeting look I could manage. Interphase! I passed him the microscope before he he could ask for it. He took a swift peek and then wrote it down. I would have written it while he looked, but his clear, elegant script intimidated me. I didn't want to spoil the page with my clumsy scrawl. We were finished before anyone else was close. I could see Mike and his partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open under the table, which left me with nothing to do but try to not look at him. Unsuccessfully, I glanced up, and he was staring at me,

that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes. Suddenly, suddenly, I identified that subtle difference in his face. Did you get contacts? I blurted out unthinkingly. He seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. No. Oh, I mumbled. I thought there was something different about your eyes.

He shrugged and looked away. In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the flat black color of his eyes the last time he'd glared at me. The color was striking against the background of his pale skin and his auburn hair. Today, his eyes were a completely different color. A strange ochre, darker than butters. but with the same golden tone. I didn't understand how that could be,

unless he was lying for some reason about the contacts. Or maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word. I looked down. His hands were clenched into hard fists again. Mr. Banner came to our table then to see why we weren't working. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab and then stared more intently to check the answers. So, Edward, didn't you think Isabella should get a chance with a microscope? Mr. Banner said, Bella.

Edward corrected automatically. Actually, she identified. three of the five. Mr. Banner looked at me now. His expression was skeptical. Have you done this lab before? He asked. I smiled sheepishly.

Not with onion root. A whitefish blustula? Yeah. Mr. Banner nodded. Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix? Yes. Well, he said after a moment. I guess it's good you two are lab partners.

He mumbled something else as he walked away. After he left, I began doodling on my notebook again. It's too bad about the snow, isn't it? Edward asked. I had the feeling that he was forcing himself to make small talk with me. Paranoia swept over me again. It was like he had heard my conversation with Jessica at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong.

Not really. I answered honestly. Instead of pretending to be normal like everybody else, I was still trying to dislodge the stupid feeling of suspicion, and I couldn't concentrate. You don't like the cold. It wasn't a question. Or the wet! Forks must be a difficult place for you to live.

He mused. You have no idea. I muttered darkly. He looked fascinated by what I said. For some reason, I couldn't imagine. His face was such a distraction that I tried not to look at it for more than courtesy absolutely demanded. Why did you come here then? No one had asked me that.

Not straight out like he did. Demanding. It's complicated. I think I can keep up. He pressed. I paused for a long moment and then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His dark gold eyes confused me and I answered without thinking. My mother got remarried, I said.

That doesn't sound so complex. He disagreed, but he was suddenly sympathetic. When did that happen? Last September. My voice sounded sad, even to me. And you don't like him? Edward surmised, his tone still kind. No, Phil is fine.

Too young maybe, but nice enough. Why didn't you stay with them? I couldn't fathom his interest, but he continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes, as if my dull life story was somehow vitally important. Bill travels a lot. He plays ball for a living. I half smiled.

Have I heard of him? He asked, smiling in response. Probably not. He doesn't play well, strictly minor league. He moves around a lot. And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him. He said it as an assumption again, not a question. My chin raised a fraction.

No, she didn't send me here. I sent myself. His eyebrows knit together. I don't understand. He admitted, and he seemed unnecessarily frustrated by that fact. I sighed. Why was I explaining this to him? He continued to stare at me with obvious curiosity. She stayed with me at first, but she missed him.

It made her unhappy, so I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie. My voice was glum by the time I finished. But you're unhappy, he pointed out, and? I challenged. That doesn't seem fair. He shrugged, but his eyes were still intense. I laughed without humor. Sidebar.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. I just imagine their conversation, he says as you go, oh, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. I know you can laugh without humor in many other ways. It's just the teen girl, so nervous. about talking to this hot as fuck vampire and this just, oh, oh, oh, oh, thank you guys for listening to me and my inner thoughts. Anyway, hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair? I believe I have heard that somewhere before. He agreed dryly. So that's all.

I insisted, wondering why he was still staring at me that way. His gaze became appraising. You put on a good show. He said slowly. But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see. I grimaced at him, resisting the impulse to stick out my tongue like a five-year-old. and looked away. Am I wrong?

I tried to ignore him. I didn't think so. He murmured smugly. Why does it matter to you? I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds. That's a very good question.

He muttered, so quietly, that I wondered if he was talking to himself. However, after a few seconds of silence, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get. I sighed, scowling at the blackboard. Am I annoying you? He asked, he sounded amused. I glanced at him without thinking

and told the truth again. Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read. My mother always calls me her open book. Sidebar called it. I am the best. I frowned. On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read. Despite everything that I'd said and he'd guessed,

he sounded like he meant it. You must be a good reader, then, I replied. Usually. He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultra-white teeth. Mr. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned with relief to listen. I was in disbelief that I'd just, just explained my dreary life to this bizarre, beautiful boy, who may or may not despise me.

He'd seemed engrossed in our conversation, but now I could see, from the corner of my eye, that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension. I tried to appear attentive as Mr. Banner illustrated, with transparencies on the overhead projector, what I had seen without difficulty through the microscope. But my thoughts were unmanageable. When the bell finally rang, Edward rushed as swiftly and as gracefully from the room as he had last Monday. and like last Monday, I stared after him in amazement. Mike skipped quickly to my side and picked up my books for me. I imagined him with a wagging tail.

That was awful. He groaned. They all looked like exactly the same. You're lucky you had Cullen for a partner. I didn't have any trouble with it. I said, stung by his assumption. I regretted the snub instantly. I've done the lab before, though.

I added before he could get his feelings hurt. Cullen seemed friendly enough today. He commented as we shrugged into our raincoats. He didn't seem pleased about it. I tried to sound indifferent. I wonder I was with him last Monday. I couldn't concentrate on Mike's chatter as we walked to the gym. And P.E. didn't do much to hold my attention either.

Mike was on my team today. He shivalrously covered my position as well as his own, so my wool gathering was only interrupted when it was my mind. turn to serve. My team ducked warily out of the way every time I was up. The rain was just a mist as I walked to the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in the dry cab. I got the heater running, for once not caring about the mind-numbing roar of the engine. I unzipped my jacket, put the hood down and fluffed my damp hair out so the heater could dry it on the way home. I looked around me to make sure it was clear.

That's when I noticed the still white figure. Edward Cullen was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me and staring intently. in my direction. I swiftly looked away and threw the truck into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste. Lucky for the Toyota, I stomped on the break in time. It was just the sort of car that my truck would make scrap metal of. I took a deep breath, still looking at the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again with greater success. I stared straight as I passed the Volvo.

But from a peripheral peak, I would swear I saw him laughing. Ooh, we're sexy, sexy, it's a vampire tail, and I'm so fucking here for it. why did I wait so long? Why did I think everyone? You know what? I never thought that everyone in the world was wrong.

I just, I am, I'm horned up now. I know, but in my brain, in my brain they're 28. They're 28 years old. And I'm going to keep saying that. I'm going to keep saying that they're definitely 28 years old. Because when you look, oh, Edward Cullen, ooh. I'm not going to say I didn't kiss Jeff earlier and say that his lips were just like Edward Cullins, I would imagine.

And throw it out there, he didn't appreciate it. I love you guys. So much. This is, I'm having the best time. Immediately such an easier read than Rebel City, Vienra, the Story of Lexington, Olivia, and Model And, and, Oh my God. I love you guys.

Thank you for picking this. This is just, I, I, I, feel like a whole girl. Finally. I feel like a whole girl. Hell yeah. I'll talk to you guys soon. This show is made possible

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