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I’D NEVER GIVEN MUCH THOUGHT TO HOW I WOULD DIE—
When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn’t see it as an omen—just unavoidable. I’d already said my goodbyes to the sun.
“Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?” La Push is the tiny Indian reservation on the coast.
I didn’t relate well to people my age.
The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out.
I can do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one was going to bite me.
Ironic phrasing
They didn’t look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big—muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair.
I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful.
It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful—maybe the perfect blond girl, or the bronze-haired boy.
The way she didnt pick edward?? Unless he looks different in the book
He looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine.
Strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kinds of names grandparents had.
The way these names have already circled back to being popular
he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today—he had a slightly frustrated expression.
Next to the center aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat.
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.
he continued to sit so still it looked like he wasn’t breathing. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behavior?
It couldn’t have anything to do with me. He didn’t know me from Eve.
For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts.
Felt that
And it was worse because Edward Cullen wasn’t in school at all.
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 guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.
“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 around.”
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.
Edward asked. I looked up to see him smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that I could only stare at him like an idiot.
Which left me with nothing to do but try to not look at him… unsuccessfully.
“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,”
“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.”
If I was being honest with myself, I knew I was eager to get to school because I would see Edward Cullen.
I love how she says his full name every single time
the van shuddered to a stop a foot from my face, the large hands fitting providentially into a deep dent in the side of the van’s body.
Then a doctor walked around the corner, and my mouth fell open. He was young, he was blond… and he was handsomer than any movie star I’d ever seen. He was pale, though, and tired-looking, with circles under his eyes.
That was the first night I dreamed of Edward Cullen.
I woke in the middle of the night and couldn’t sleep again for what seemed like a very long time. After that, he was in my dreams nearly every night, but always on the periphery, never within reach.
I couldn’t believe the rush of emotion pulsing through me—just because he’d happened to look at me for the first time in a half-dozen weeks.
“Bella?” His voice shouldn’t have been so familiar to me, as if I’d known the sound of it all my life rather than for just a few short weeks.
“It’s better if we’re not friends,” he explained. “Trust me.”
“You think I regret saving your life?” “I know you do,” I snapped.
“I said it would be better if we weren’t friends, not that I didn’t want to be.”
“It would be more… prudent for you not to be my friend,” he explained. “But I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella.”
“You really should stay away from me,” he warned. “I’ll see you in class.”
Maybe it was just a very convincing dream that I’d confused with reality. That seemed more probable than that I really appealed to him on any level.
ugh same twin
“Surprised, actually… what brought all this on?” “I told you—I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I’m giving up.”
“Giving up?” I repeated in confusion. “Yes—giving up trying to be good.
“What are your theories?” I blushed. I had been vacillating during the last month between Bruce Wayne and Peter Parker.
“I’m not. I told you, most people are easy to read.” “Except me, of course.” “Yes. Except for you.”
“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, distracted. “No.” I didn’t feel like mentioning that my stomach was already full—of butterflies.
He was dangerous. He’d been trying to tell me that all along.
“No, I don’t believe that you’re bad.” “You’re wrong.”
“You don’t seem much like a junior in high school yourself,” I noted.
I couldn’t stop the gloom that engulfed me as I realized I didn’t know how long I would have to wait before I saw him again.
the boy who noticed me was named Jacob.
I was thinking about how disjointedly time seemed to flow in Forks, passing in a blur at times, with single images standing out more clearly than others. And then, at other times, every second was significant, etched in my mind. I knew exactly what caused the difference, and it disturbed me.
