Bella settled into the rhythm of Forks High School faster than she'd expected. The initial stares and whispers had faded, replaced by the casual indifference of teenagers more focused on their own lives. Her teachers were accommodating, and most of her classmates were friendly in an unobtrusive way.
But the Cullens remained the unshakable focal point of her thoughts.
She'd crossed paths with Edward several times since their first class together, his polite but persistent curiosity never waning. His golden eyes often lingered on her a little too long, making her wonder if he could sense something off about her.
Rosalie, however, was a different story.
They'd exchanged no more than a few words during their hallway collision, but Bella couldn't shake the image of her—radiant, cold, and untouchable. Her presence was like a gravitational force, drawing Bella's attention even when she tried to resist.
She spent most evenings writing in her journal or researching Forks' history, trying to keep herself busy and out of her own head. But it was a losing battle.
Friday came with more rain and a biting chill in the air. Bella arrived early again, parking in her usual spot and heading to her locker. She liked the quiet before the chaos of the school day—it gave her time to think.
She was arranging her books when a soft voice startled her.
"You're the new girl, right? Bella?"
Bella turned to see a girl with dark hair and an easy smile standing beside her. Angela Weber.
"That's me," Bella said, returning the smile.
"I'm Angela. I just wanted to say hi. And welcome. It's not every day we get someone new around here."
"Thanks," Bella replied, relaxing slightly. Angela's calm demeanor was a welcome reprieve from the charged atmosphere she felt around the Cullens.
Angela hesitated, then gestured toward the cafeteria. "Do you want to sit with me and my friends at lunch today? I know starting over in a new place can be kind of… overwhelming."
Bella hesitated. She appreciated the offer, but sitting with Angela and her friends would put her closer to the Cullens' table. Closer to Rosalie.
"Sure," she said before she could second-guess herself.
Angela beamed. "Great! See you then."
The morning passed uneventfully, with Bella making an effort to focus on her classes instead of her internal worries. By the time lunch rolled around, she was grateful for Angela's invitation.
She found Angela at a table near the middle of the cafeteria, seated with Jessica Stanley, Eric Yorkie, and Mike Newton. They greeted her enthusiastically, their chatter a blur as Bella forced herself to smile and nod.
She was hyper-aware of the Cullens, even as she avoided looking in their direction. The weight of their presence pressed against her senses, and she wondered if Edward or Alice had noticed her discomfort.
Rosalie, however, was harder to ignore.
Bella could feel her gaze like a tangible thing, sharp and unrelenting. It wasn't curiosity or fascination—it felt more like scrutiny, as though Rosalie were searching for a flaw, a reason to dismiss her entirely.
Bella forced herself to focus on Angela, who was telling her about the school newspaper. She didn't need Rosalie's approval. She didn't need to care what Rosalie thought.
And yet, she cared far too much.
Later that afternoon, Bella found herself in Gym, the one class she dreaded most. Her coordination was laughable at best, and she spent most of the period dodging volleyballs and trying not to trip over her own feet.
By the time the final bell rang, she was sore and ready to go home. She grabbed her things and headed for the parking lot, relieved to see her truck waiting like a steadfast companion.
As she climbed in, she noticed a sleek silver Volvo pulling out of the lot. The Cullens.
Her eyes followed the car involuntarily, catching a glimpse of Rosalie in the passenger seat. The blonde didn't look her way, her profile sharp and serene as she gazed out the window.
Bella sighed and started her truck, heading toward the small house she now called home.
That evening, as the rain continued its steady rhythm, Bella opened her journal.
Entry 4:
Rosalie looked at me today. Not with kindness or interest, but with… something. I don't know if it's disdain or suspicion, but it feels heavy.
I told myself I'd stay out of her way, but it's hard when she's everywhere—on my mind, in my dreams. It's like she's burned into my senses.
Angela invited me to sit with her today. It was nice, being around normal people. But the Cullens are always in the background, like a shadow I can't escape.
Maybe I don't want to escape.
She closed the journal and set it aside, staring at the ceiling as her thoughts spiraled.
Rosalie Hale was going to be the end of her.