FIRST SIGHT
My mother drove me the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I wearing my favorite shirt- sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item a parka.
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains this inconsequential twon more any other place I the United States of America. It was this town and it gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was a few months old. It was in this town that I�d compelled to spend a month summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California two weeks instead.
It was to Forks I now exiled myself-- and action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks.
I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city.
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From Twilight by Stephenie Meyer
