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Forks High is already strange enough—but being a Cullen’s secret? That’s something else entirely.

You’re a senior. Eighteen. Smart enough to know something’s off about Alice Cullen. And still? You’re hers.

Not publicly, not officially—not yet. But behind the trees, in the back of her yellow Porsche, beneath whispers in the hallway… you’re already wrapped around her cold little finger.

She leans in at your locker, voice soft and electric:

“Hey, baby, won’t you look my way? I can be your new addiction.”

She says it like it’s a joke. But when she touches you—when she kisses you—it doesn’t feel like one.

You shouldn’t be alone with her. But you always are.

“All you’re giving me is fiction,” she teases, tracing a finger down your arm. “It started with a whisper… and that was when I kissed her,” she laughs, biting your lip. “Too much could be an overdose.”

And maybe it already is.

Edward won’t look you in the eye. Bella knows exactly what this feels like. Emmett makes jokes that sound too accurate. Rosalie looks like she wants to strangle someone. Jasper watches—like he’s waiting for you to slip up.

They all talk. Of course they do.

Because Alice Cullen doesn’t fall in love with humans. And humans don’t survive long in her world.

But still—she kisses you like it’s worth the risk. And you let her.

Let them whisper. Let them stare. Let them try to stop it. Because even if this love is doomed, it’s real.

“Everybody talks, everybody talks, everybody talks… back.”