In the morning, with gray light seeping through the window, it took Nell a few seconds to realize where she was. She blinked at the clock on her phone, thinking: «I still have time...»
She flopped back onto her pillow, determined to enjoy a few more minutes of sleep…
—Get up. —Steve's voice boomed before he even appeared, bursting through the door like a tornado—You're going to be late for school.
—It´s still early. — she protested, her voice thick with sleep.
—I need the car to go into town. So you're going to have to walk.
She sat up abruptly, incredulous.
—That's like two and a half miles.
Steve just shrugged.
—Pretty sure you used to walk farther than that in Pennsylvania.
—That's different.
Steve handed her the bag she'd forgotten in the car.
—Hurry up and get dressed. — And he slammed the door behind him.
Frowning, she sighed. She wasn't going to get into an argument this early in the morning. So, twenty minutes later, after showering, getting dressed, and adjusting her gloves, she headed out the door.
One of the things that surprised her most about Forks was the endless supply of water falling from the sky. If she were a Greek philosopher, she'd say something like, "The heavens weep for the loss of a loved one." Or, in the case of thunderstorms, that "The gods are enraged." But today, strangely enough, it wasn't pouring or thundering. It was just drizzling.
The second surprise was the school. It was located – like just about everything else in town – right off the highway. And it didn't even look like a school. It looked more like a bunch of vacation rentals clustered together, with a large parking lot full of curious eyes. She tried to ignore them and walked quickly, her eyes fixed on the school building. She pushed open the door and let out a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding.
The contrast was almost jarring: inside, there was light, heating, and an artificial floral scent coming from plastic plants. A woman behind the desk smiled as she approached.
—Can I help you with something?
—Yeah... I'm Eleanor Blake. The new student. —She said, and immediately saw a flicker of recognition in the woman's eyes. They were expecting her. No doubt she'd been the subject of gossip. The sister of the famous horror writer Steven Blake. It sounded like a cliché. But there's a reason clichés exist. It's because they're true. They're real. And her life was a cliché too.
—Of course—she said. She shuffled through some papers until she found an envelope —Here's your class schedule and a map of the school. And...— she lowered her voice, leaning in slightly—Could I ask you a favor?
Eleanor frowned. That question didn't bode well.
—What is it?
—An autograph from your brother?—She blushed, excited—I read his book, and I thought it was amazing the way he...
The words started to lose their shape for Nell. All she could hear was a high-pitched, incessant ringing that made her stomach clench.
—I'm sorry—Nell interrupted— I'm afraid you'll have to ask him yourself.— She grabbed the map and class schedule and, with a curt —Excuse me.— walked out into the hallway.
The map wasn't much help. She could barely figure out that her first class was Literature, Room 3. She was lost in the maze of hallways until a clear, cheerful voice came from behind her.
—Need some help?
Nell jumped, startled, and turned to see her. A girl with a short, pixie-cut hairstyle, bright, golden eyes, and skin as white as snow. She looked like an angel, or someone not from this world. She was accompanied by another guy with almost the same characteristics as her, though he seemed to be under some kind of spell of suffering. Somewhat disconcerted, Nell stammered:
—Oh... yeah. Do you know where Room 3 is?
—It's past the lunch place. I'm sure you won't miss it.
Nell smiled gratefully.
—Thanks.
—I'm Alice. — She introduced herself, smiling. Then she pointed to the guy.—And this is Jasper.
—I'm…
—Eleanor Blake. —Alice finished.
Eleanor grimaced.
—Just Nell.
Her laugh was musical and fleeting.
—I like that. —Then the shrill sound of the bell rang—Have a great day.
Nell tried to return the smile, but her mind was still processing what she'd just seen.
Needless to say, she was late on her first day of classes. Her very first day. And Mr. Mason, even though he seemed like the most unpleasant of them all, was considerate for the day. He stared at her surprised as he read her name, but did not dedicate any words of fanaticism, and she, of course, wished that he send her to the empty desk that she saw in the back without introducing her to the rest of the class.
Surprisingly, her wish was granted. Maybe because it was already too late to interrupt the class. So Nell walked slowly to the back of the room and sat down. She sensed glances from all directions, watching her. Wanting to turn around from time to time just to glance at her and then gossip with the person next to her.
By the time lunch rolled around, Nell had spotted a couple of familiar faces: Erik, Jessica, and Angela seemed engrossed in whatever Mike was saying. Nell tried to find an empty table, but they were all taken. And while she wasted time standing and scanning the room, a group of seven entered through the back door – on the other side of where she was – and settled at a table that, by some stroke of luck, had been emptied without her noticing.
They didn't look like any other students. She managed to recognize Jasper and Alice, whom she saw that morning. Next to them, a copper-haired guy seemed to be happily talking to Bella Swan; another girl she shared a class with who seemed to be the black sheep of the group.
Then there was a tall girl with a gorgeous figure, the kind you see on the cover of a magazine. Her blonde hair cascaded down to the middle of her back, and she was being held romantically by a guy with a strong jawline and dark hair.
Despite being different, they all shared that strange pallor, those golden eyes, and dark circles under their eyes that looked like bruises. They were beautiful in an inhuman and devastating way. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful.
—Hey, Blake!—Mike called from a table, causing many to fix their eyes on her—Come sit with us! —He gestured for her to come over, patting the empty chair.
«Idiot » Nell thought. Approaching with the tray without further ado. She put it down on the table and sat down. Everywhere she looked, there were curious eyes.
—Hello star— Erik greeted smiling.
—Why do you call her that?—Angela asked next to her.
—Because she is the sister of the one who wrote "The Monster of Pennsylvania". That makes her a star.
—But maybe she doesn't like being called that.—Angela cautioned.
Erik turned around.
—Does it bother you if I call you Star?
Nell made a gesture, as if apologizing.
—Actually, yes. —the others laughed—I'm sorry.
—What would you like us to call you?— Angela inquired kindly.
Eleanor shrugged with a half smile.
—Just Nell.
Jessica cleared her throat to get attention and leaned her elbows on the table before asking:
—So tell us, Nell, where are you from?
—From Altoona, Pennsylvania.
—Wait—Erik stopped her with emotion—Same as in your brother's book?— he didn't let her answer— So it's true. What the book says is a true story, isn't it?
Nell suddenly felt so uncomfortable that she just wanted to escape that situation. She knew that book was a cliché, but it was her cliché. An invasion of the privacy of all members of her family, one that should have only stayed in Pennsylvania and not leave there.
—I...uh...
—Incredible...— Erik whispered, running his hands through his hair.
—Enough, you're making her uncomfortable—Mike asserted. Then he looked at her—We're sorry, we're not used to having a superstar. If it's something that bothers you, we promise not to bring it up anymore.
—Thank you...
But she barely said it, her gaze went to the door again. A boy entered through it, so strong and muscular that he seemed like a weightlifter. With dark hair, short and curly high. He carried the tray of food with one hand and, in a fraction of a second, his eyes fell on Nell's. He did not look at her with interest like the rest of the students, but as an involuntary response. However, he did not take his eyes off her until he sat down next to the rest of the pale group.
Jessica followed her gaze and giggled foolishly before speaking:
—They are Edward and Andrew Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. — she named them one by one, in a thread of voice—The one talking to Bella now is called Alice Cullen; they all live with Dr. Cullen and his wife. Except Bella, of course.
—They are... different.
It was hard for her to find an appropriate term.
—Clearly!— JJessica agreed as she let out another silly giggle—And also handsome. But they're together. I mean Andrew and Rosalie; and Jasper and Alice. And they live together, which is weird.
Her voice resonated with all the commotion and disapproval of a small town, but, to be honest, this reaffirmed her theory of clichés. There was no way to escape them. However bad or good they may be. Life was a cliché.
—Dr. Cullen is very young, he's in his early thirties—Jessica continued out of nowhere.—They're all adopted. The Hales, the blonds, are twin siblings, and the Cullens are their foster family
One of them, the strong dark-haired guy, looked up as she studied them and their eyes met again, this time with obvious curiosity. She looked away as quickly as she could.
—Who's the muscular guy?—Nell asked. Still feeling his gaze on her.
—His name is Emmett Cullen. He's terrifying, right? The few who have dared to speak to him, he has rejected them. As if they stank— she said disdainfully, in a clear display of resentment. She wondered when he had rejected her—. So my advice is that you don't waste your time with him.
Nell turned her face to see him again, but it was too late. The seven had left the table at the same time, moving gracefully away. And the one named Emmett did not look at her again.