CHAPTER 7: SCHOOL CHAOS BEGINS
POV: Peter
Monday morning arrived with all the enthusiasm of a funeral procession.
Peter stood in front of his cabin's makeshift mirror—a piece of reflective metal Emmett had salvaged from somewhere—and tried to look like a normal teenager. Jeans that were only slightly mud-stained. A hoodie that didn't scream "homeless transmigrator." Hair that he'd attempted to tame with water and hope.
"This is ridiculous," he thought. "I've hunted vampires in Seattle alleys. I've transformed into supernatural creatures. And I'm nervous about high school."
[NOTIFICATION: Social integration commencing. Recommendation: Maintain low profile. Avoid supernatural displays. Note: Significant narrative event scheduled for today—Bella Swan's arrival.]
Peter's stomach tightened. Right. Today was the day. The day the entire Twilight saga officially kicked off, and he got to watch it happen in real-time.
"This is so weird."
He grabbed his backpack—filled with notebooks he'd compelled from a store, pens that actually worked, and absolutely no homework because he'd only been provisionally enrolled for three days—and started the walk toward school.
The morning was typical Forks: gray, drizzly, cold enough to make his human body ache. Peter's breath misted in the air, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching against the damp. Other students were converging on the school from various directions, their voices carrying across the parking lot.
Peter slipped into the building and headed for his locker—number 247, assignment courtesy of the school secretary who'd actually been pleasant about the whole thing. No compulsion needed, which felt like a minor victory.
"Hey, Peter!"
He turned to find Angela Weber approaching, her smile genuine and a little shy. They'd had English together on Friday, and she'd been one of the few students who didn't immediately write him off as "that weird new kid."
"Morning," Peter said.
"First full week, right? How are you finding Forks High?" Angela adjusted her backpack strap. "I know it's not exactly thrilling compared to... where did you say you were from again?"
"I didn't," Peter said with a smile to soften the deflection. "But yeah, it's definitely different. Quiet."
"Quiet's one word for it." Angela glanced over her shoulder, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Fair warning: there's a new girl starting today. Chief Swan's daughter, moving back from Arizona. Everyone's going to be talking about her."
"Everyone talks about everyone here," Peter observed.
"True. But new students are rare. You were the hot gossip last week. Now Bella Swan gets the spotlight." Angela's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Must be a relief."
"Absolutely." Peter closed his locker. "Who wants to be interesting when you can fade into the background?"
They walked toward first period together, and Peter found himself actually enjoying the normalcy of it. Angela didn't pry, didn't push, just offered friendly conversation that didn't require lies or mental gymnastics.
"This is nice," he realized. "This is what normal feels like."
Then he saw the Cullens.
They stood near the cafeteria entrance, a tight cluster of impossible beauty that made every other student look washed-out by comparison. Edward's bronze hair caught the fluorescent light. Alice bounced on her toes, talking animatedly to Jasper. Emmett had his arm around Rosalie, who looked like she'd rather be literally anywhere else.
And all of them, in perfect synchronization, turned to look at Peter.
Edward's expression was unreadable. Alice waved enthusiastically. Jasper nodded, a subtle acknowledgment. Emmett grinned like they shared a private joke.
Peter lifted a hand in greeting, hyperaware of Angela watching the exchange.
"You know the Cullens?" Angela's voice was carefully neutral, but Peter caught the undercurrent of surprise.
"Sort of. I live near them. We've... talked." Understatement of the century.
"Huh." Angela's expression was thoughtful. "They usually keep to themselves. Don't really interact with other students much."
"I'm special like that," Peter said dryly.
"Must be." Angela stopped at her classroom door. "See you at lunch?"
"Yeah, sure."
Peter continued to English, sliding into his seat near the back just as the bell rang. The teacher—Mr. Mason, stern-faced and perpetually disappointed—began taking attendance, his monotone voice washing over the room like auditory Ambien.
Peter pulled out his notebook and started sketching in the margins. Not anything specific, just lines and shapes that helped him think. Today was the day. Bella would arrive, Edward would have his dramatic reaction in Biology, and the entire plot would start rolling like a boulder downhill.
"And I'm supposed to just... what? Watch? Participate? Try not to break everything?"
[NOTIFICATION: Host role in narrative events: Observer with intervention capability. Recommendation: Minimize disruption to core timeline while pursuing personal objectives. Warning: Excessive interference may trigger unforeseen consequences.]
"Gee, thanks for the specificity," Peter muttered under his breath.
"Mr. Grayson?" Mr. Mason's voice cut through his thoughts. "Something you'd like to share with the class?"
Peter looked up to find the entire room staring at him. "No, sir. Sorry."
"Then perhaps you could focus on the actual lesson instead of doodling."
"Yes, sir."
The class dragged on, forty-five minutes of literary analysis that Peter only half-absorbed. His mind kept wandering to the Cullens, to Bella, to the growing sense that he was standing at the edge of something massive and trying to decide whether to jump or run.
When the bell finally rang, Peter gathered his things and headed for second period—Trigonometry, which sounded exactly as fun as it was. He was halfway there when he felt it.
A ripple in the social atmosphere. A collective shift in attention. Students turning, whispering, craning their necks to see something.
Someone.
Peter found a gap in the crowd and looked.
Bella Swan stood near the office, clutching a schedule and looking like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. She was exactly as he'd imagined from the books—brown hair, pale skin, average height, with an expression that broadcast "leave me alone" in neon letters.
And she was already drowning in attention.
Mike Newton materialized at her elbow, all eager puppy energy and letterman jacket swagger. Jessica Stanley hovered nearby, her smile sharp with curiosity. Tyler Crowley and Eric Yorkie formed a secondary perimeter, clearly angling for introduction opportunities.
"Poor kid," Peter thought. "She just wanted to be invisible, and instead she's the main event."
Bella's eyes swept the hallway, and for just a moment, they met Peter's. There was something in her expression—a recognition of fellow outsider-hood, maybe—before Mike said something and her attention shifted.
Peter continued to Trig, filed the encounter away as "first contact achieved," and tried to focus on parabolas.
Lunch arrived with the inevitability of high school bureaucracy.
Peter bought food he didn't really want—pizza that tasted like cardboard, an apple that was somehow both mealy and hard—and surveyed the cafeteria. The Cullens sat at their usual table, isolated by mutual agreement and supernatural beauty. Bella had been absorbed into Mike's orbit, sitting with Jessica, Angela, and the rest of the "popular-adjacent" crowd.
Peter claimed a table near the windows, far enough from both groups to avoid direct involvement but close enough to observe.
He was halfway through his terrible pizza when Alice appeared across from him, moving with that liquid vampire grace that made normal walking look clumsy.
"Hi," she said brightly, sliding into the seat without invitation.
The cafeteria's ambient noise dropped by several decibels. Heads turned. Whispers erupted.
Peter sighed. "You know everyone's staring at us now, right?"
"Of course." Alice's smile was incandescent. "That's kind of the point."
"What point?"
"The point where I establish that you're my friend, and anyone who messes with you messes with the Cullens." She leaned forward, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief. "Also, I wanted to ask about your declaration."
Peter's mind blanked. "My what?"
"Your declaration. The one you're going to make. I can't see the specifics because of your mental shields, but I can see everyone's reactions, and they're hilarious." Alice bounced in her seat. "It involves me and Jasper and some kind of public announcement. You're going to do it today at lunch, aren't you?"
"Am I?" Peter thought wildly. "Was I planning that?"
But even as he questioned it, the idea took root. Because why not? He was already the weird new kid who somehow befriended the Cullens. Might as well lean into the chaos.
And maybe, just maybe, having a running joke with Alice would make this whole nightmare existence a little more bearable.
"You know what?" Peter said, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah. I am."
Alice clapped her hands together, delighted. "This is going to be so fun. Jasper's going to die. Well, metaphorically. He's already dead, obviously."
"Obviously."
She flitted away, returning to the Cullen table where she immediately started whispering to Jasper. The scarred vampire's expression cycled through confusion, amusement, and resignation.
Peter took a breath, stood up, and raised his voice.
"Attention, everyone!"
The cafeteria fell silent. Every eye turned to him. Peter felt his face heat—human embarrassment, wonderful—but pushed through.
"Alice Cullen," he called across the room, "I'm officially competing with Jasper for your heart. May the best man win."
For three eternal seconds, no one moved.
Then the cafeteria erupted.
Laughter, gasps, shocked whispers that crescendoed into a roar of gossip. Jessica Stanley's jaw literally dropped. Mike Newton looked torn between amusement and secondhand embarrassment. Angela covered her mouth, eyes wide.
At the Cullen table, reactions were mixed.
Alice laughed, bright and genuine, looking absolutely delighted. Jasper had his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with either laughter or despair. Emmett whooped, slamming his hand on the table hard enough to make it shake. Rosalie's expression was pure disbelief, her lips forming a word that looked suspiciously like "fuck."
Edward just stared at Peter with an expression that said "I can't read your mind, but I know you did this on purpose, and I hate you a little."
Peter saluted the Cullen table, grabbed his tray, and left the cafeteria before anyone could respond properly.
[NOTIFICATION: Social disruption event logged. Status: Highly effective chaos generation. Note: Alice Cullen approval rating increased. Jasper Hale tolerant amusement detected. Edward Cullen frustration levels elevated. Rosalie Hale—data inconclusive, profanity suspected.]
"Worth it," Peter muttered, dumping his uneaten lunch in the trash.
The rest of the lunch period was a blur of students stopping him in the hallways, asking if he was serious, if the Cullens were actually his friends, if he had a death wish. Peter deflected with humor and vague answers, enjoying the chaos more than he probably should.
By the time Biology rolled around, the entire school was buzzing with gossip.
Peter entered the classroom and immediately spotted Bella, sitting alone at a lab table near the back. She looked overwhelmed, her expression somewhere between resignation and misery.
The seat next to her was conspicuously empty.
Peter knew why. Edward would have that seat soon—once he returned from whatever dramatic Alaskan exile he was about to embark on after smelling Bella's blood. But for now, it was vacant.
"Mind if I sit?" Peter asked, approaching Bella's table.
She looked up, her expression shifting to cautious relief. "Sure. Are you... were you the one who made that announcement in the cafeteria?"
"Guilty." Peter sat, setting his books down. "Sorry if that made your first day even weirder."
"It's fine. I mean, everyone was already staring at me anyway." Bella's voice was quiet, slightly hoarse. "At least you gave them something else to talk about."
"Happy to help. I'm Peter, by the way. Peter Grayson."
"Bella Swan."
"I know. Chief's daughter, right? Everyone's been talking about your arrival."
Bella grimaced. "Great. Love being the center of attention."
"Sarcasm detected and appreciated." Peter grinned. "Don't worry, the novelty wears off fast. Give it a week and you'll be invisible again."
"One can hope."
The classroom door opened, and the Cullens filed in—minus Edward. Alice took her usual seat next to Jasper at the front. They both turned to look at Peter, and Alice gave him a small, conspiratorial wave.
Mr. Banner began the lesson—something about cellular mitosis—and Peter tried to pay attention. But his awareness kept drifting to Bella beside him, to the empty seat that should've held Edward, to the way the plot was unfolding exactly as predicted.
"So," Bella said quietly, not looking at him, "you're friends with the Cullens?"
"Kind of. It's complicated."
"They seem... intense."
"That's one word for it." Peter kept his tone light. "But they're good people. Weird, sure. Intense, definitely. But good."
Bella was quiet for a moment. Then: "Do they always stare at people like that? Like they're trying to figure out how you work?"
"Only when those people smell like walking buffets," Peter thought. Out loud: "They're just observant. And probably curious about the new girl. You're disrupting their careful routine of being mysteriously beautiful and intimidating."
That got a small smile. "Routine disruption. That's me."
The class ended, and students filed out. Bella gathered her books slowly, clearly dreading whatever came next.
"You okay?" Peter asked.
"Just tired. Long drive yesterday, and I didn't sleep well." Bella stood. "Thanks for sitting with me. It was nice to have someone who wasn't asking a million questions about Phoenix."
"Anytime. I'm in English and Trig if you need someone to sit with."
"I'll remember that."
She left, and Peter followed at a distance, watching as she navigated the hallways with the defeated posture of someone who knew they were being watched and hated every second of it.
"Poor kid. She has no idea what she's walking into."
His last class of the day was PE—which Peter had tried to get excused from on grounds of "recent illness" but the school had denied. So now he was stuck playing volleyball with a grace level somewhere between "concussed giraffe" and "newborn deer."
The Cullens, naturally, had PE at the same time. They moved through drills with inhuman precision, making every other student look clumsy by comparison. Peter tried not to stare at Emmett spiking a volleyball so hard it left a dent in the gym wall.
When the bell finally rang, releasing him from high school purgatory, Peter found Edward waiting by his locker.
The mind-reader looked tense, his jaw tight and his hands clenched at his sides.
"We need to talk," Edward said without preamble.
"About my declaration? Because I stand by it. Alice is a catch, and Jasper needs competition to keep him on his toes."
"About Bella Swan." Edward's voice was strained. "I wasn't here today. I was... handling something. But Alice told me she sat with you in Biology."
"She did. We talked about cellular mitosis and the hellscape that is being the new kid."
"What did you say to her?"
Peter frowned. "Nothing weird. Just normal conversation. Why?"
"Because I can't read her mind." Edward's golden eyes bored into him. "And I can't read yours. And the two of you sitting together, conspiring in a blind spot—"
"We weren't conspiring. We were just talking." Peter closed his locker. "Edward, what's really going on? You look like you're about to vibrate out of your skin."
Edward was silent for a long moment. Then: "I'm leaving. Going to Alaska for a few days. I need to... clear my head."
"Because Bella's blood sang to you in Biology, and you almost murdered her in front of twenty witnesses," Peter thought. Out loud: "Overreacting much?"
"Excuse me?"
"You're running away because one new student makes you uncomfortable. That seems like an overreaction."
Edward's expression darkened. "You don't understand."
"Then explain it to me."
"I can't." Edward turned to leave, then paused. "Just... be careful around Bella. She's not like other humans."
"In what way?"
"In every way." Edward's voice was barely above a whisper. "She's dangerous. To herself and to everyone around her."
He left before Peter could respond, moving with that vampire speed that turned him into a blur.
Peter stood alone in the hallway, processing.
[NOTIFICATION: Timeline progressing as predicted. Edward Cullen Alaska departure confirmed. Bella Swan integration into social structure: In progress. Host disruption level: Minimal. Status: Acceptable.]
"Acceptable," Peter echoed. "Yeah. This is all going great."
He gathered his things and headed out, passing Bella in the parking lot. She was struggling with her ancient truck—a behemoth that looked like it predated internal combustion—and Peter almost offered help before deciding against it.
"Let the plot happen naturally. Don't interfere more than necessary."
But as he walked home through the drizzle, he couldn't shake Edward's words.
"She's dangerous. To herself and to everyone around her."
Peter knew the story. Knew that Bella would fall for Edward, that their relationship would bring danger and chaos and near-death experiences. Knew that by the end, she'd be a vampire herself, immortal and powerful and bound to the Cullens forever.
What he didn't know was how his presence would change things.
If it would change things.
Or if he was just a footnote in a story that would unfold exactly as written, regardless of his interference.
"Guess we'll find out," Peter thought, and kept walking through the rain.