The Shape of Things to Come

The following morning, Bella woke to a crisp, bright day that was at odds with the tangled thoughts she carried with her. Her body felt heavier than usual as she rose from bed, her mind cluttered with questions she had no answers to. Every decision seemed to circle around one inevitable truth: Rosalie Hale was her mate.

The idea should have felt comforting—some part of her should have found peace in the fact that fate had already set a path for her. But it didn't. It only made everything harder.

Rosalie, despite her beauty and strength, seemed to view Bella with an almost indifferent coldness. She wasn't like Edward or Alice, who might have looked at Bella with curiosity or mild interest. No, Rosalie's gaze felt more like a challenge—like Bella was something to be avoided, something dangerous.

Bella drove to school that morning, her truck's engine a soft hum beneath her, the roads slick with remnants of the previous night's rain. The town of Forks seemed to hum with a quiet energy, and Bella couldn't help but feel that everything was drawing her closer to something—something she was both afraid and desperate to understand.

She parked in her usual spot, the parking lot already filling up with students. As she got out of the truck, she glanced toward the school entrance. There, in the distance, stood Rosalie. The blonde was talking with Emmett, but Bella could feel her gaze slowly drifting toward her. It was like a gravitational pull that Bella couldn't escape.

The sight of Rosalie's eyes locking with hers felt like a jolt of electricity, a spark igniting inside her chest. Bella quickly turned away, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she walked toward the building. She hated how much her body reacted to Rosalie—how everything about her made it impossible to focus on anything else.

In the cafeteria, Bella sat with Angela, forcing herself to eat and engage in conversation. But every few moments, her eyes strayed toward the Cullen table, where Rosalie sat, looking as poised and untouchable as ever.

The sight of Rosalie made Bella feel almost adrift. She didn't belong here—not at this table, not in this life. And yet, she couldn't stay away.

Angela noticed Bella's distracted gaze, following her friend's line of sight. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern flickering in her eyes.

"Yeah," Bella said quickly, offering a small smile. "Just… thinking about something."

Angela raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Bella appreciated the kindness, but there was no way she could explain to Angela the swirling confusion inside her. Not without revealing the truth—about Rosalie, about the Cullens, and about the overwhelming pull she felt.

By the time biology rolled around, Bella felt like she was running on autopilot. She walked into the classroom, her thoughts already distracted by the memories of the cafeteria.

The bell rang, signaling the start of class. Bella took her usual seat, trying to focus on the lesson. But just as the teacher began speaking, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Bella."

Edward's voice was soft but direct, and she felt her heart jump in her chest as she turned toward him.

"Edward," she greeted, trying to sound casual. "Is there something you need?"

"I've been thinking," Edward said, his golden eyes searching her face with an intensity that made her uneasy. "There's something… different about you."

Bella swallowed, her throat dry. "Different? How do you mean?"

Edward leaned forward, his gaze never leaving hers. "I can't quite put my finger on it. But I know there's something you're not telling me. Something you're keeping hidden."

Bella froze.

She should have expected this. Edward's intuition was far sharper than she gave him credit for. The problem was, she had no idea how to cover up her growing connection to Rosalie.

"I don't know what you mean," she said, forcing her voice to remain steady.

Edward studied her for a moment longer, before sitting back in his chair, as if he'd seen enough.

"Fine," he said, his voice clipped. "But I'll be watching, Bella. You can't hide things from me forever."

Bella's heart hammered in her chest as he turned his attention back to the teacher. But she couldn't shake the feeling that Edward was far more aware of her than she'd realized.

That evening, Bella found herself alone in her room, once again writing in her journal.

Entry 6:

Edward knows something's wrong. I can feel it. He's not stupid—he's sharp. He's starting to piece things together, but he doesn't know the whole truth.

Rosalie keeps pulling at me. I can't stop thinking about her. It's like an addiction, but I'm also terrified of what that means. Why is she my mate? Why her?

And how long can I keep this up? How long can I pretend nothing's happening when every moment with her feels like I'm drowning in it?

It's harder to stay away from her, harder to ignore the pull, every time I see her. And it's only going to get harder.

Bella closed the journal, staring at the words on the page. Every entry felt like another layer of a puzzle she couldn't quite solve.

But one thing was certain: whatever this was, it was getting harder to ignore. And Rosalie wasn't going to let her forget it.