Prologue

Are you scared of tomorrow? Are you scared of right now? Does the unknown make your skin crawl and your heart pound? Do you wake up in the middle of the night too terrified to think?

If asked those questions, I would say, "Yes, I'm scared shitless." I would say, "Sometimes I can't breathe because my heart feels too large for my chest."

I would say these things. I would yell them if I thought anyone would hear me.

Maybe that's what scares me the most. I'm scared that I'm alone. Sure, I might be surrounded by a sea of people; but no one knows me. Some might know my name, or how old I am, or what school I'm in, but none of those facts say a damn thing about who I am as a human being.

Then I think about how cliché that sounds. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. There must be hundreds of others; they just don't say anything. Like me, they stay silent. We have to pretend we aren't afraid after all. We can't let anyone see just how messed up we are.

I'm no one special in the grand scheme of things. I will never become president. I will never save lives as a surgeon. Hell, I'll probably never even leave my hometown. I'll live here, but it won't really be living. But what does it matter? I can numb myself just as well as the next person.

My name is Bella Swan. I'm 17. I've lived in Forks, Washington my entire life. I go to school every day, I sit through six classes, and I pretend I care. Afterwards, I go home. I make dinner for Charlie, though he's never home to eat it. When I'm tired of sitting at the table, staring at the faded paint on the walls, I go upstairs to bed. I lie there until I hear the front door open and close. I listen to the sound of unsteady footsteps come up the stairs. Then I wake up and start the entire process over again.

Until things change. Until a beautiful, raven-haired boy walks into the classroom. His large, muscular body towers over Mr. Thomas. Chocolate brown eyes glance around the room, seemingly bored with everyone and everything. Mr. Thomas looks at the paper the boy handed him, then tells him to find an empty seat. There's only one available chair. The one next to me.

"Class, this is our new student, Emmett McCarty," Mr. Thomas introduces, writing on the chalkboard furiously about the topic of the day.

Murmurs of 'hello' follow, but the boy pays them no mind. He walks confidently, smiling down at me before sitting.

My mind feels cluttered. A strange sensation unfurls in my stomach. My brows furrow, and my hand shakes while I try to jot notes down. Refusing to believe it has anything to do with the new kid, I make myself stay still.

"Hey," he whispers.

Against my better judgement, I glance at him. He's even more attractive up close. "Yes?"

Dimples peek out at me. "I'm Emmett."

I draw in a deep breath, and wish I hadn't when his spicy cologne reaches my nose. "Yeah, I heard," I say, purposefully going back to my notes.

He chuckles, undeterred. Leaning towards me, he asks, "And what might your name be?"

I twist my body to face the other way. "Bella."

Much to my annoyance, he scoots closer. "Pretty name."

Thankfully, the bell rings, giving me the opportunity to leave. Gathering everything as fast as I can, I push my way through the crowd. I breathe a sigh of relief when I make it to the hall.

The way my skin feels too tight, and my breaths too short, confuses me. I've never had a reaction to a guy like this before. No matter; he's hardly worth my time. Whatever it is I think I feel, well, I don't.

My name echoes through the hallway, sending shivers up and down my spine. The deep timbre of his voice is like thunder during a storm. It's loud and forceful. It's the kind of voice that demands attention.

Freezing in place is my first mistake. Making eye contact is my next. I would be lying if I said he wasn't gorgeous. The tight, grey t-shirt he's wearing doesn't leave much to the imagination. He definitely works out. Then there's his chiseled features, set in friendly, happy lines. He's almost too perfect.

"You left so quickly, I didn't get a chance to ask if you'd like to sit with me at lunch," he says, grinning in a disarming manner.

Out of everyone in this place, this guy seems determined to single me out. He obviously hasn't figured out the school dynamics yet. Once he learns how low I am on the totem pole, he'll ignore me like I've got a head full of lice, because Emmett is the future football star, and I'm the girl that keeps to herself.

But for some unexplainable reason, I say sure. Like the biggest idiot in the world, I agree to meet him for lunch. I instantly want to smack myself.

"I'm looking forward to it," he says, winking at me before heading towards his next class.

"Right," I murmur.

Sighing, I turn on my heel. Biology is my next class, so I slowly make my way downstairs. I try not to think about lunch or Emmett. Needless to say, I fail.