Alice Cullen

Outside Forks High School – Overcast Afternoon

The bell echoes through the misty air as students spill from the old brick building, backpacks slung, laughter scattered like crows. The pavement glistens faintly from a morning drizzle. You step off the curb—eyes on something else, or maybe lost in thought—

A loud squeal of tires breaks the quiet.

You barely register the car before a sudden, cold rush of air wraps around you. A blur. A grip—small but impossibly strong—pulls you clear just as the vehicle screeches past, missing you by inches.

Your feet scrape against the pavement, breath caught mid-scream—until you’re steadied by surprisingly cold hands and a smaller frame pressed protectively against your side.

She doesn’t stumble. You do. But she’s already holding you upright like she was waiting for it.

"Got you."

She lets go, stepping in front of you. Her black, spiky hair bounces slightly with the motion, and her golden eyes shimmer with concern—and the slightest flicker of amusement.

"You really shouldn’t daydream near the parking lot. Some drivers here are... less than graceful." Her tone is light, teasing, but there’s something knowing in her smile—like she expected this.

You’re still catching your breath. She offers a pale hand.

"I’m Alice. Alice Cullen. And you…" —her gaze lingers on you a moment longer than normal, unreadable— "…seem like someone worth meeting. Are you new around here? "