Seventeen-year-old Harper Thorne thought moving with her mother from her crowded hometown in California to a small, gloomy town in Washington called Forks would be a wonderful fresh start, and would help her move forward from her agonizing past.
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The sound of my blaring alarm clock woke me almost immediately, as I tiredly opened my eyes and instantly realized what day it was.
I let out a weary sigh before I pulled my pink floral quilt off my body and sat up out of bed to get myself fully awake.
How was Tuesday here already? How did almost an entire week already pass by since we moved here?
I left my room and headed for the shared bathroom down the hall to hop in the shower and quickly wash my hair — luckily, all my unpacked shower essentials were already there for me to use.
After rinsing the shampoo and conditioner out of my hair and any excess body wash, I got out of the shower and half-ran back to my room, still wrapped in a towel.
I quickly plugged in my hair dryer before picking out any clothes, and blow-dried my hair in front of my small, worn-down vanity mirror in the corner of my bedroom — using my brush to straighten out the natural, thick curls I didn't prefer on myself.
Much to the bad luck I was used to, my hair didn't go bonkers that morning, and I was able to pick out my outfit without wasting any excess time.
Due to none of my California clothes being suitable enough for the cold Washington temperatures that were foreign to me, my mom had to go out of her way to buy each of us enough clothes to expand our "winter" wardrobe that was practically nonexistent, as owning garments that were more appropriate for frigid habitats was unnecessary back in Fresno.
A gray, long-sleeve shirt, my usual black jeans, and a burgundy flannel were the chosen ensemble for my first day — it still felt odd having such snug, warming attire on.
Knowing how the entire small population of students at Forks High School — three-hundred and fifty-seven to be exact — all grew up together in this small town, knew everyone by name, and even all had relatives who aged together, I already knew that my arrival as the new kid would spark up hot gossip — curiosity would be too strong to ignore.
Musings of why a kid from the "beautiful" golden state of California would move to a murky, dull place such as Forks in the middle of her junior year would be ongoing until I soon enough became "old news" — hopefully that would be soon.
Alongside that, I dreaded having any form of attention on me and feared I would appear as a complete outcast to everyone else.
If my physical appearance resembled that of a girl who lived in Fresno most of her life — athletic, tan-skinned, blue-eyed with bleach blonde locks that reached my waist — perhaps I wouldn't risk drawing any negative, fault-finding attention from others who found girls like me to be too plain and unexciting to be even remotely pretty.
