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THERE WERE MANY bad things in the world. Heartbreak, the most inconspicuous yet universal one of all, seemed to be the one bad thing that repeatedly happened to her over and over and over again. It was the definition of insanity—repeating the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result every time she met the same tragic fate.
She was tired of it. Tired of having her heart crushed and stomped on and ripped out. It was a vicious cycle. She was well familiar with the warning signs now. A warm, innocent smile, a piercing gaze, and a voice as smooth as honey. She was sick of it. Once was a tragedy, twice was coincidence, but three times was a pattern.
When she laid eyes on Roman Godfrey, she knew her life was officially a fucking joke to the entire cosmos.
He was perfect. Not in the way he was, of course, Roman was human and that was the worst part of it all. She had at first thought he was a vampire, he had an irritating gracefulness and was overwhelmingly gorgeous—overtly tall in a way his head missed the top of the door by inches, slicked back thick dark blond hair, a lithe, lean figure—but it was his eyes that gave it away. The light, crystal blue-green shade assured her that Roman was normal—or the closest thing to it in her mind.
She first saw him in his bright and shiny, classic cherry red 1957 Jaguar—the car being what initially caught her attention as she wandered around a large nursery picking out fresh plants of all things to decorate the garden her aunt had bestowed upon her to tend to. Some bullshit about how caring for a garden would help her care for herself.
And it had to be a Jaguar of all cars in the world—like the one her ex-boyfriend bought her—she was instantly bitter and furious at the same moment. Why couldn't Jasper Hale leave her the hell alone like he said he would?
At the time, she had no idea who Roman Godfrey was, only attuned to how he was so carelessly fucking some girl in broad daylight. From the distance, she couldn't see much of him, only his hauntingly pretty profile as the girl bounced on his lap. Eventually the girl left with a handful of cash and a wobble in her steps.
The black-haired seventeen year old wasn't aware she had been staring so long until his sharp gaze met hers, his dreadfully handsome face twisting into an arrogant smirk as he sucked his thumb suggestively. She jerked away and turned back to the array of roses she had been looking at, her face flush with mortifying redness as she felt his eyes on the back of her head. She held her breath until she heard the rumble of the engine fade away, leaving her heart pounding and hands shaking.
➖
"Rory, are you sure you want to go back to school, again? It's like two weeks into the school year. I don't understand...you already graduated back in Forks," Giselle Reyes stared at her niece with a creased forehead at seven o'clock that Monday morning. Rory darted around her aunt and uncle, grabbing sugar and creamer to pour into her mug of coffee that was secretly laced with one or two shots of vodka.
