Hi there! After years of reading fanfic, I finally decided to take a chance and write my story. I've been thinking about it for a while and finally made my decision today. I'd really love your opinion since English isn't my native tongue.

Twilight isn't mine, as you already know ;).

Michael Newton is an idiot.

It may sound harsh when said like that, but believe me and my teaching experience: Michael Newton is an idiot. He's without a doubt the loudest, most obnoxious and annoying person I've ever met. Lucky me, I'm supposed to teach him the basics of the French language, oh joy!

I'm sorry, because of Newton being Newton, I even forgot to introduce myself. My name is Bella Swan, 30 years old, single and bitter. Never would have guessed that huh? And to top that, my sarcastic nature makes my job hardly bearable at best.

You see, I'm a teacher in Forks High. Trust me, there's nothing « high » about it. Brown building, beige walls, annoying students, and a perfect setting to my boring life. I gracefully admit that I'm a bit negative (hah!) but who wouldn't be after a horrific break up from their long-time boyfriend , having to live with their father and sleeping in their childhood bed?

My musings are loudly interrupted when Newton decides that it's a good idea to see what's happening outside and to do so, jumps on his desk and opens the window.

« Mr Newton, after you're done catching pneumonia, kindly put on your feet on the ground, move them like I'm sure you've been taught, go to the door, open it and go to the principal's office » I say in a detached tone. I told you I was sarcastic.

For once, Mike is reduced to silence and gapes at me like a goldfish. Yeah, he really isn't the brightest crayon in the box this one. The question is, is he going to fight me on this? I really hope not, I'm so tired and it's only 11.

Luck is on my side apparently because after a few chosen words and a shrug the side of Mount Everest, he finally decides to do as he's told. The minute he opens the door, though, Mr Banner, our principal joins us in the classroom, followed by a tall young man dressed in black from head to toe. I can't see his face or even his head, as it is carefully covered by a hood.

« Ms Swan ,» Mr Banner jovially announces, « as I told you yesterday, our new student joins us for the rest of the school year. Everyone, meet Edward Cullen. I expect you to make him feel welcome. »

This little speech is received with absolute silence. The boys are trying to size Edward up as possible competition. The girls are trying to find out his level of cuteness which is an almost impossible thing to do as he watches his shoes. Mike Newton is hoping that this unexpected event will spare him of the punishment he should receive and I just feel compassion for the boy. Feel welcome, yeah.

I suddenly realize I have to react.

« Welcome, Edward. » I say smiling. « You can seat here », I add, showing him a table, near my own desk. He obeys with a very soft « thank you » and keeps his eyes low.

« Mr Newton, since you're already at the door, I suppose you were on your way to pay me a cordial visit, am I right? » Mr Banner asks with a sigh. Mike grumbles in acceptance and follows him out of the classroom.

« Ok everyone, back to the study of our Baudelaire poem. Read it to yourself first and then, we'll talk about it. » I give the book to Edward and he slowly opens it with long and elegant fingers. Beautiful hands.

« Now, is there a volunteer to read it out loud? » I ask, already knowing the answer. As I predicted, all students are looking anywhere but at me. Bravery is a lost art, it would seem.

« Edward, I know you just got here but would you mind? » I'm so sorry to do this to him but do I have a choice here?

« Yeah, no problem. » His voice is still very soft but firmer than before. His eyes still have to meet mine.

La rue assourdissante autour de moi hurlait.
Longue, mince, en grand deuil, douleur majestueuse,
Une femme passa, d'une main fastueuse
Soulevant, balançant le feston et l'ourlet ;

Agile et noble, avec sa jambe de statue.
Moi, je buvais, crispé comme un extravagant,
Dans son oeil, ciel livide où germe l'ouragan,
La douceur qui fascine et le plaisir qui tue.

Un éclair... puis la nuit ! - Fugitive beauté
Dont le regard m'a fait soudainement renaître,
Ne te verrai-je plus que dans l'éternité ?

Ailleurs, bien loin d'ici ! trop tard ! jamais peut-être !
Car j'ignore où tu fuis, tu ne sais où je vais,
Ô toi que j'eusse aimée, ô toi qui le savais !

He reads the whole poem without any hesitation, in a beautiful and velvety voice. It is so sensual I can't relate it to the shy boy currently sitting in front of me. I'm just stunned and it's my turn to gape like a goldfish.

I finally gather my wits and clear my throat.

« Edward, it was...great. » God, what a brilliant reaction. « Have you studied this poem before? » I ask. I realize with shame that I'm breathless.

Edward understands that he has to look at me. As he raises his head, his hood lowers and the little air I had left in my lungs disappears. Before me is the most magnificent and angelic human being I have ever seen. Beautiful messy bronze hair, sharp cheekbones, a jaw I could use to cut glass and last but not least, a pair of expressive eyes, a shocking green I've never encountered.

« Yes, miss. I spent the last summer in Paris and I took litterature classes. » His eyes meet mine for a few glorious seconds but as soon as he's done speaking, they find their way back to the ground.

Still, it's enough for me to be absolutely positive about three things.

One, I just met the most interesting student of my career.

Two, Edward Cullen is the most delicious male specimen on this Earth. As I look around, I notice all the girls either drooling or swooning and all the boys exchanging worried glances.

Three, he is 17 years old.

Oh yeah I forgot something...I'm fucked.