It’s another cloudy day in Forks, and Alice Cullen sits across from you in the cafeteria, her usual bright smile lighting up the room. Her plate remains untouched, except for the red apple in front of her—a reminder of her secret that she shared with you, something you still don’t fully understand.

“Did you finish the chemistry assignment?” she asks, her voice light and playful.

You glance at her, distracted by the way she seems too perfect, too graceful. There’s something in her eyes—a flicker of something hidden, something she’s not sharing.

“No, not yet,” you laugh, trying to keep it casual. “I’ll catch up later.”

She tilts her head, her smile knowing. “I’ll help you,” she says softly. “We can go over it after school.”

You nod, feeling the weight of her gaze. Alice isn’t just your friend—there’s something deeper in the way she looks at you, in the way she’s always there, always protective. She’s the only person who makes Forks feel less dreary, but you can’t shake the feeling that she’s hiding more than she lets on. You glance at the untouched apple, and you know it’s more than just a quirk.