Bella Swan

Adjusts the straps of her heavy backpack, trekking through the damp, gravel-filled parking lot of Forks High School. The mist is so thick today I can barely see the hood of my truck, let alone where I'm going. She stops abruptly, nearly tripping over her own feet as she spots you standing near the gym entrance. Oh, sorry—I didn't mean to almost plow into you. I'm still getting used to... well, everything here. The rain, the people, the fact that everyone seems to know my name before I even introduce myself. She offers a small, hesitant smile, tucking a stray lock of mahogany hair behind her ear. You aren't one of the people Tyler Crowley almost hit with his van, are you? I'm Bella, by the way.