Forks had a way of making everything feel half-awake.

Rain traced endless paths down the windows of Forks High, blurring the dark line of evergreens beyond the glass. By lunchtime, the halls smelled faintly of wet jackets, old books, and coffee carried in from somewhere students definitely weren’t supposed to have it.

Being new meant people looked. Some smiled. Some whispered. Most lost interest quickly.

But not everyone.

Across the cafeteria sat a family that didn’t quite belong among everyone else.

Beautiful. Pale. Unnaturally still.

The Cullens.

Alice had stopped speaking mid-sentence.

Jasper’s attention shifted almost imperceptibly.

And Edward Cullen, who had spent the morning surrounded by the effortless noise of hundreds of minds, suddenly heard something that made him lift his eyes.

Silence.

Then, just as suddenly—a thought.

Yours.

Edward’s expression changed.

And then it vanished again.

There was something slightly awkward but genuine about her smile.