Bella's POV
I walked out of biology class when I heard Edward Cullen outside, asking to switch his schedule.
In class, he kept pinching his nose.
I don't think my scent is a problem.
Mikhail's voice echoed in my mind.
"You smell like jasmine."
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
I pushed the Cullens out of my thoughts and walked down the hallway, my eyes searching everywhere for Mikhail.
I didn't see him.
I opened my locker, slid my biology book inside, and after closing it, I stood there for a few seconds, staring at the blue metal door.
This morning, even though I hadn't wanted to, I'd gone into the forest.
It felt instinctive.
That's when I saw him.
He was asleep—but shaking.
Breathing hard.
Like he was trapped in a terrible nightmare.
I wanted to wake him up.
Why was he sleeping in the forest?
And more importantly… why was he begging?
Calling out for his mother?
I didn't want him to suffer anymore.
Just as I reached for him, he woke up on his own.
I expected him to be angry that I'd come so close without permission, but he wasn't.
He was friendly.
Almost like he already knew me.
Was he like that with everyone?
I shouldn't be this comfortable with strangers.
But… when I walked beside him on the road, I didn't feel any danger.
And inside the car, his presence felt so natural—so familiar—that it surprised even me.
"Thinking about something?"
I flinched.
"Mikhail!"
I almost screamed.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I didn't mean to scare you."
I waved my hands nervously.
If he knew I'd been thinking about him, that would be humiliating.
"No—nothing. I was just distracted."
For a moment, he looked straight into my eyes.
Neither of us broke eye contact.
"Well then," he said softly, "shall we go, Jasmine?"
"…What?"
Did he just call me that?
Without saying anything else, he took my bag from my hand and led me outside the school.
So many eyes were on us.
People I'd spoken to today… and the Cullens, watching me with something close to anger.
What was their problem?
Why did I attract attention wherever I went?
"Aren't you getting in?"
I snapped out of my thoughts.
We were already at the car, and Mikhail was holding the door open for me.
I thanked him and got in.
As we drove, he glanced at me.
"Are you cold?"
I nodded. It really was freezing.
He smirked and turned on the heater.
"Flowers wilt in the cold. They need to be protected. Especially jasmine."
I looked down.
I couldn't meet his eyes anymore.
The way he spoke—like I was something delicate—felt strange.
"I'm not lying," he continued.
"Jasmine blooms in summer, resists hardships, but it's just as fragile. Doesn't that sound like you, Isabella?"
How did he know I hated the cold?
He thought I was strong… but vulnerable?
He called me Isabella.
Then Jasmine.
I should've been annoyed.
I should've felt offended.
But… I didn't.
"I'm not like that," I said, staring out the window.
He didn't answer.
Maybe he accepted it.
Or maybe he was still thinking.
"I think you're stronger than you realize," he finally said.
I sighed.
"Don't say things like that. I don't need pity."
I thought I'd hurt him.
But when I looked back at him, his expression was still gentle.
That look made something inside me tremble.
He turned his eyes back to the road, smoothly taking a turn.
"My uncle transferred to this school this year," he said. "He teaches history."
His uncle?
So Mikhail had a reason for being here too.
"Your uncle?" I asked. "I didn't expect him to be a teacher."
He nodded.
"He's unpredictable. But he came here for me."
I knew it.
"Don't you want to ask why I'm here?" he asked.
I couldn't read his expression.
I was curious—but I didn't want to push him.
I shook my head.
"So that's how it is," he murmured.
We drove the rest of the way in silence until we reached my new house.
"Where are you staying?" I asked. "Still at a hotel?"
"No," he replied casually. "My uncle bought a house right after arriving."
That fast?
I almost invited him inside.
"Well… see you, Mikhail."
I got out of the car and went inside without looking back.
I collapsed onto my bed and pressed my pillow over my face.
"Get it together, Bella… get it together. He's just—"
I took a deep breath.
"He's just a friend. Your first friend in this town."
Still… he really was a gentleman.
I wondered what his uncle looked like.
Was he anything like Mikhail?
No.
Stop it.
I went to the kitchen and ate some leftover pizza. I was starving.
Dad wouldn't be home until late.
I wished I'd invited Mikhail inside.
At least I wouldn't be alone.
Damn it.
I thought about him again.
If this kept up, I was going to lose my mind.
After lunch, I finished my biology and Spanish homework.
Then I heard the front door open.
"Bella, I'm home!"
I went downstairs. He'd brought hamburgers.
"Dinner time."
We ate together.
"So," he asked, "how was school?"
Several students had tried to befriend me.
I met a mysterious boy in the forest.
He was from Romania.
He smelled danger and comfort at the same time.
Yeah. I wasn't telling him any of that.
"It was good."
He smiled warmly.
"Make any friends? How were the teachers?"
"A new history teacher started," I said. "Do you know him?"
His eyes widened.
"Oh—you mean Vlad Kent? He's from Romania. His nephew attends your school."
So that was it.
"How do you know so much?" I asked.
"I'm the chief of police," he said with a wink. "I have to."
I smiled and kept eating.
Forks hamburgers really were good.
That night, Dad went to bed early.
The TV shut off, and the house fell silent.
I took my book upstairs.
Rain tapped lightly against the window.
I read eight chapters before my eyes grew heavy.
I turned off the lamp and pulled the blanket around me.
I don't know how long it was before I woke up suddenly.
My heart was racing.
At first, I thought it was a nightmare.
But no.
Something felt wrong.
Heavy.
Like I wasn't alone.
I sat up slowly.
The room was darker now.
Only moonlight slipped through the curtains.
That's when I felt it.
A gaze.
Watching me.
My breath caught in my throat.
It's just your imagination, I told myself.
It's Forks. It's raining.
But my body didn't listen.
My feet carried me toward the window.
Or maybe… I didn't choose to move at all.
I touched the curtain.
Cold.
Too cold.
I hesitated.
I didn't want to see.
But not seeing felt worse.
I pulled the curtain aside.
And time stopped.
In the darkness of the forest, right outside my window—
Two glowing red eyes.
I tried to scream.
My mouth opened—
But no sound came out.
Nothing.
My throat was locked.
The eyes moved closer.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
My legs gave out.
I stumbled back, hit the edge of the bed, and fell.
My heart was pounding wildly.
Silent tears streamed down my face.
I wanted to run.
I wanted to call my dad.
I wanted to scream for help.
But I couldn't control my body.
The last thing I saw—
Those red eyes.
And then—
Everything went black.
Through the darkness, a deep voice
whispered:
"Hello, Isabella Swan."