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1. FIRST SIGHT
...
The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry
teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the
subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the
class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own
boots on the way to my seat.
After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each
class. There was always someone braver than the others who would
introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I
tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot. At least I never
needed the map.
One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me
to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my
five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of
the difference between our heights. I couldn't remember her name, so I
smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes. I didn't
try to keep up.
We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she
introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them.
They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The boy from
English, Eric, waved at me from across the room.
It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with
seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.
They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where
I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't
talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of
untouched food in front of them. They weren't gawking at me, unlike most
of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of
meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these
things that caught, and held, my attention.
They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big — muscled
like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller,
leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less
bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the
others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here
rather than students.
The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a
beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated
swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on
her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden,
gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixielike,
thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black,
cropped short and pointing in every direction.
And yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale,
the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. Paler than
me, the albino. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair
tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes — purplish, bruiselike
shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost
done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their
features, were straight, perfect, angular.
But all this is not why I couldn't look away.
I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all
devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to
see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or
painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide
who was the most beautiful — maybe the perfect blond girl, or the
bronze-haired boy.
They were all looking away — away from each other, away from the other
students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I
watched, the small girl rose with her tray — unopened soda, unbitten
apple — and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a
runway. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer's step, till she dumped her
tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought
possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging.
"Who are they?" I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I'd
forgotten.
Twilight-1. FIRST SIGHT-09 Twilight-2. OPEN BOOK Berkeley University 四大奇书 Confucius' Analects in Latin 钗头凤·唐婉 论语今译12
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