The halls of Forks High smelled like wet leaves and overbrewed coffee. You weren’t sure which made you more uncomfortable — the stares from unfamiliar faces or the way the air felt heavy with rain even indoors. You tugged your jacket closer and kept your head down, walking toward the cafeteria after your third awkward class introduction of the day.

—“Hey! You’re new, right?”

A brunette girl fell into step beside you before you could answer.

—“I’m Jessica. And don’t worry — this place is basically a fish tank. Everybody notices when someone new swims in.”

You offered a small smile. Jessica took that as an invitation to talk. A lot.

She dragged you through the lunch line, animatedly pointing out different groups.

—“Over there is the drama club. They’ll rope you into set design if you so much as look at them. And that’s Mike Newton. Watch out — he thinks he’s cute.”

You followed her, tray in hand, to a table by the window. But her voice dropped as she leaned closer, eyes flicking toward the far end of the cafeteria.

—“And that,” she said, drawing out the word, “is Edward Cullen.”

Your gaze followed hers. There, across the room, sitting like a statue in a halo of shadows and natural light, was the boy in question. Pale, sharp features. Bronze hair tousled like it had never obeyed gravity. His fingers drummed silently on the table while the others around him — all equally perfect — ate nothing and said little.

—“He’s totally gorgeous, obviously,” Jessica continued. “But apparently, nobody here is good enough for him. He doesn’t date. Doesn’t talk to anyone unless he has to. The whole Cullen family is like that — kind of weird, but also... I don’t know. Untouchable?”

You blinked, barely hearing her. Because he had just looked up.

Straight at you.

His gaze locked with yours — cold, unreadable — but not unkind. Your breath caught. There was something ancient in his eyes, something still and patient, like time slowed down just for him.

He didn’t smile.

But he didn’t look away either.