Ethical Analysis Of Investment Into The Alcohol Industry Commerce Essay

Ethical Analysis Of Investment Into The Alcohol Industry Commerce Essay Virginia Tech invests in multiple initiatives each year, being ethical in doing so is a job of its own. Analyzing all aspects of the investment and how it will impact financially, socially, environmentally, and ethically are extremely pertinent. Virginia Tech receives donations of every size, daily. Virginia Techs total endowment value as of September 30, 2012 was $610,035,977.00, most options are limitless for Tech. The mission of the Virginia Tech foundation ultimately states that the foundation takes the funding and manages the assets to help supplement funds. The foundation also offers funding for standing initiatives as well as new initiatives requested by the university. They state that this is all while being a corporate citizen, so for interests that not only affect the university (Virginia Tech Foundation, 2011). Virginia Tech seeing themselves as a corporate citizen, is an important note to stop on. Being ethically and socially responsible for all their actions, Virginia Tech must determine how each investment will affect their reputation and profits. These two characteristics, being ethical and socially responsible can affect Virginia Tech for years to come with potential students and the impact they have on the environment. Researching the current investments Virginia Tech conducts as well as the potential for Virginia Tech to invest in the alcohol industry themselves has brought up many ethical issues and pressures. Virginia Techs current policies on alcohol stands, that students and guests over the age of 21 may possess alcohol on campus and within their dorms. Students under the age caught with possession of alcohol are subject to a Conduct Review and strikes against their record. If further action is needed a formal charge from the Virginia Tech police can be issued. Virginia Tech does although permit ABC Approved parking lots for the Virginia Tech Football games, which are monitored by Virginia Tech and Town of Blacksburg Police. Here, many students and guests can be ticketed for breaching the open container or public intoxication laws. Investment in the Alcohol Industry could cause most students and guests to consider a double standard between them and Virginia Tech. Ethical standards and social responsibility must work together in the decision factor. Ethical Issues Due to the nature of the alcohol industry there are several ethical issues involving both the products and the marketing practices implemented by companies within the industry. Two main ethical issues concern marketing to those who are underage and health related issues. Many argue that marketing practices of alcohol companies target those who are underage and encourage them to participate in illegally consuming alcohol. Others argue that even if marketing efforts arent directly targeting those who are underage they are still exposed to alcohol related advertisements which could influence to them to consume alcohol while underage. It has been reported that 45% of commercials teens see are somehow related to alcohol, which is a tremendous amount of exposure to products which they are not yet allowed to consume. One last argument for this issue is that there is no way to differentiate marketing efforts attempting to target those who are 21-30 from also appealing to those who are under 21. There are many similarities of what appeals to those who are any of these ages. Many liquor companies have developed brightly colored labels, creative names, and a vast number of flavors; all argued to appeal to a younger crowd. In many forms of advertising drinking alcohol is made to look fun, exciting, and creates an atmosphere that viewers wouldnt want to be left out of. Many advertisements create a sense of unity and fitting in and that participating in drinking alcohol can accomplish that. Many companies attempt to counteract these claims by adhering to marketing regulations and running responsible drinking campaigns that advocate sensible drinking for recreational purposes only. These campaigns aim to help prevent alcoholism, drunk driving, and underage consumption. Marketing efforts implemented by companies within the alcohol industry are heavily regulated; at least 70% of the target audience must be over the legal drinking, the ad cannot be designed to appeal to those who are underage, and no part of the advertising can encourage irresponsible drinking. The second ethical issue surrounding the alcohol industry concerns with public health. Alcohol provides no health related benefit but can instead harm the body and empower people to harm others. Not everyone is capable of self-control and consuming alcohol in moderation. In the United States there are approximately 17.6 million adults who live with alcoholism, which not only affects them, but their families and anyone close to them as well. Consuming enough alcohol can cause judgment to be impaired and might cause a person to make a decision that they would not regularly make. Decisions can include, but are certainly not limited to, drunk driving. Three out of ten people will be involved in an alcohol related car crash at some point in their lives. Also, in 2009 a person died every 48 minutes due to an alcohol impaired driver. Many ask the question if the number of fatalities is really worth the ability to consume alcohol, at any age. An important element to take into consideration is that ethical issues regarding the alcohol industry can and will vary from country to country depending upon how alcohol consumption is viewed. For example, there is quite a difference in opinion and normality between drinking behavior in Ireland versus the attitude of drinking in the United States. Certain events in particular countries are not allowed to have alcohol companies be sponsors, and even in some countries all forms of advertising are banned. Pressures Facing the Alcohol Industry When it comes to the alcohol industry there are many barriers and pressures that limit the industrys success. The majority of problems come from activist organizations that negatively portray alcohol and bring to light the harmful effects alcohol can cause. There are organizations such as the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, that attempt to stigmatize alcohol, de-legitimize drinking, marginalize drinkers, and create a de facto quasi-prohibition of the legal product.(Hanson). This organization has dedicated itself to limiting the alcohol industry in America. The Robert Wood Johnson Foundation spent over a quarter of a billion dollars ($265,000,000.00) in just four years alone further developing and funding a nation-wide network of anti-alcohol organizations, centers, activist leaders, and opinion writers to promote its long-term goal (Hanson). Although the Robert Wood Foundation may not be well know by the public, nearly every study disparaging adult beverages in the mass media, every legislative push to limit alcohol marketing or increase taxes, and every supposedly grassroots anti-alcohol organization is funded by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation (RWJF). One of the well-known organizations supported by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation is the Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD). Mothers Against Drunk Driving points out the most severe effect that is related to alcohol, death. Founded by a mother whose daughter was killed by a drunk driver, Mothers Against Drunk Driving is the nations largest nonprofit organization that works towards stopping alcohol related harms (MADD). Through testimonies and videos Mothers Against Drunk Driving attempts to educate teens about the dangers of driving under the influence as well as underage drinking. MADD publicly exposes the alcohol industry in a way that persuades individuals to think negatively about it. This creates a pressure on the alcohol industry, as they must fight to direct the publics eye away from the negativity and more towards the positive and profitable side of the industry. Although the pressures facing the alcohol industry seem severe, we believe the profitability and shareholder value will not be affected. The alcohol industry is a vital element in the American economy and no matter how negatively activist organizations portray it, the alcohol industry will remain profitable. Pressures from these organizations may slow the alcohol industry slightly, but with the superior influence alcohol has on the American people the alcohol industry will always persevere. Corporate Social Responsibility To address the pressures that are facing the alcohol industry, companies have come up with several initiatives to promote responsible drinking, address sustainability issues, and other charitable programs important to each specific company. The International Center for Alcohol Policies, ICAP, is an organization that promotes understanding of responsible drinking and helps reduce the abusive behaviors associated to drinking. Their policy approach is based on drinking patterns, targeted interventions, and partnerships. The organization provides the current alcohol policies countries, worldwide. ICAP has partnered up with thirteen companies and other organizations working towards the same cause. Bacardi, a sponsor of ICAP, is also a founding member of The Century Council which promotes responsible drinking, fighting against college binge drinking, and drinking and driving. They also have an campaign called Champions Drink Responsibly which educates drinkers on the importance of taking your time while drinking, staying in control of the amount of drinks you consume, planning your night out, and making sure you have a ride home or back to a safe place at the end of the night and also throughout the night. Bacardi uses a professional athlete as the face of the campaign. During 2011, Bacardi measured a 4 percent reduction in total water usage, a 7 percent reduction in greenhouse gas emissions, over 37 million people engaged with their Champions Drink Responsibly campaign, and having 3,750 employees from numerous countries participate in 128 various activities. Smirnoff briefly describes their corporate social responsibility on their website. Their campaign, Drink Responsibly focuses on three main objectives, effects of alcohol, tips for drinking responsibly, and tips on how to get home safely and the importance in doing so. It was disappointing to see their lack of interest in taking on more responsibility to give back to the community and world around us. There is definitely much room for improvement to make the company more well-rounded. We also found it important to touch on a couple beer companies, as well, when looking into whether Virginia Tech should invest in the industry because beer and liquor are the main drinking preferences for college-aged students. We took a look at MillerCoors, which is also a sponsor of ICAP, breaks their corporate responsibility into several areas. Their slogan, Great Beer, Great Responsibility shows their dedication and stand on their responsibility to various areas of public concern and not just responsible drinking. Most recently, MillerCoors came up with a competition amongst eligible colleges to win $10,000 grants by supporting responsible consumption efforts for legal-age students. This program is called Great Play Grant Program and the grants were issued for the first time in 2012 with a totle of $230,000 in grants. MillerCoors also addresses the issue of drinking and driving by providing free rides in certain cities on holidays, specifically, as well as sponsoring 1-800-TAXICA B service, which is a toll-free phone number that passengers can call and connect to taxicab companies in their local area. MillerCoors also worked to install a new cooling system that saves 100 million gallons of water each year. They also reduced energy consumption in their major breweries by 4.3 percent for that last 4 years. Along with these two sustainability efforts, MillerCoors also worked with their supply chain to make sure they are working to find ways to decrease energy and water usage and grow to use sustainable practices throughout each step in the supply chain. Anheuser Busch uses a similar slogan as MillerCoors, Our World. Our Responsibility They do not even address their product in this slogan, but instead focus the attention on their belief in being responsible for the world around us. 2012 marks the 30th year since their first responsible drinking campaign. They launched many initiatives since the first campaign to prevent drinking behaviors and most recently started a campaign, Nation of Responsible Drinkers, which asks adults nationwide to take the pledge which is promise to respect the legal drinking age, enjoy responsibly and know when to say when, be the designated driver or use one. This is another company that knows their responsibility does not end with their responsible drinking efforts. They must also show the importance in other issues that this world is facing, such as environmental threats. Anheuser Busch has reduced water usage by 34 percent in the last three years. They have also gotten to the 99 percent marker of recycling the solid waste in their breweries. Both, Anheuser and Miller have reduced the materials in the packaging stages and coming up with ways to use renewable fuel in their factories. Both brewing companies we took further look into, Anheuser Busch and Miller Coors, have also participated in many charity and philanthropic events. MillerCoors employees spent more than 53,000 hours during 2011 in local community fundraisers. MillerCoors specifically participates in Great Water Month which aims to improve the watersheds around the breweries. Anheuser Busch has a foundation that has contributed $490 million to organizations that support education, environment, economic development, and preparation of disasters and relief. Social/Ethical Investment Policy Recommendations When making investment decisions, Virginia Tech absolutely should take into account Corporate Social Responsibility and ethical issues pertaining to the alcohol industry and its particular firms. Â  Especially when we are talking about this amount of money, you must think about the responsibility and possible outcomes of our decisions. In this case there are red flags surrounding the alcohol industry that must be studied. Â  By red flags we are talking about issues that could look bad for Virginia Tech. Â  For the alcohol industry in particular there are problem areas such as; misleading the public, along with the concerns for the health and safety of its users. Â  The way you understand and deal with these possible negative issues can have a major impact on your decisions and outcomes. Although we know that maximizing shareholder value is important, when making decision with investments we take into account not only the financial payoff but also what we believe is ethically correct. Â  Virginia Tech needs to be very careful when dealing with situations that would lead to benefited financial return while sacrificing ethical reasoning. Â  Overall, we believe there is no room to take ethical risks for financial returns because the possible negative outcomes. Â  A major negative outcome we consider comes in the form of being negatively publicized. Â  Having this negative publicity could have an even greater impact than the possible increased profit. Â  Even legal industries, such as the alcohol industry, are very baiting because of the possible financial rewards. Â  These are areas/scenarios that Virginia Tech should steer away from. Â  We believe it simply sends a wrong and conflicting message to our community and to an institution that prides themselves on the ir high moral ground. Â   After completing our research we do recommend that Virginia Tech NOT invest in the alcohol industry. Seeing much of this activity as inappropriate as an academic institution. A majority of the Virginia Tech student population is under the age of 21, making sponsorships and other endowments an inappropriate presentation of the Virginia Tech reputation and hypocrisy against the standing alcohol policies. Investing in this industry could also create bad publicity with the potential to destroy the Virginia Tech reputation and standards. Also, many could see this as Virginia Tech supporting underage drinking on their campus. Overall this investment could destroy the brand Virginia Tech has been building for so long. Financially, this investment would be profitable because the alcohol industry only seems to be growing, but ethically inappropriate to pursue. Many people see the alcohol industry as having impressive corporate social responsibility and not supporting underage drinking, while also leveraging the saying drink responsibly on every marketing campaign. So as an academic institution with a majority of the student population under the age of 21, Virginia Tech should NOT support it either.

Globalization and Industrialized Countries Essay

As globalization ‘can be seen as being a condition resulting from a long history of international exploration, invasion and colonization, fuelled by economic, military, religious and political interests, and enabled through enormous developments in transport and communications technologies’ (Evans 1997:12). The industrialized environment has transformed drastically since the advent of globalization. Industrialized countries have undertaken extreme restructuring by modifying their means of communication and synchronization of work activities. Globalization has made it promise for companies to work on a real-time basis, whereby products and services are conveyed to the right place at the right time. Since then, globalization and information technology has propagated and has undergone significant improvements. Costs have sustained to decline as these new technologies have emerged. A business not supported by a network of computer systems (primary information technology) is more or less destined to fail, since it will be incapable to compete efficiently in today’s complex and dynamic environment (Aiki S. 1991). Companies are not the only ones who have gained from advances in modern information technology. Consumers and interest groups have created strategic alliances and now capable to coordinate their activities as well as exchange ideas and thoughts through a number of database and network systems (Collins J. C. , and J. I. Porras. 1991). For instance, owners of personal computers can subscribe to a computer network and without difficulty retrieve information on the products and corporations on line. Such information can also without problems be transmitted to other users. This huge use of technology by both consumers and companies affects, but the way business is run today. These consumer strategic alliances know no geographical limitations; oftentimes, they are global in nature, particularly among the industrialized nations. As companies can get in enormous profits from the better coordination, greater product elasticity, improved quality, leaner production, and more time-based competitiveness that information technology offers, they also facades the threat that can come from these consumers’ strategic alliances. For instance, corporations can no longer ignore consumer demands for constant product quality, reliability and respect for the environment, or timely delivery of services. As we move toward more and more advanced technologies, the labor force must be retrained. This training must not only expose workers to the technical matters adjoining the new process but also to the new focus of the organization. They have to be made responsive of the importance of advanced technology in improving work methods and in remaining competitive. Employee compulsion to the new process is imperative. Globalization by itself adds little or no value to an organization. There should be organizational as well as employee dedication to exploit the technology to the maximum (Scott, A. 1996). For instance, with ever-increasing use of computer-integrated manufacturing systems, and the stream of technical documentation that accompanies it, employees have to be skilled of recognizing the critical information at the right time. Once that information is recognized and properly interpreted, there must be an organizational dedication to use the information to make better decisions. Without this potential, the organization cannot take advantage from new technologies. Human resources’ management, therefore, will persist to be a critical factor in the survival of any organization (Schlossberg H. 1992). We sum up the influence of globalization on human resources as follows: †¢ Information technology transforms the mode of communication and work processes. †¢ Custom or standardized operations are replaced with skilled and multi-skilled workers. An extremely trained labor force is desired to manage information technology. †¢ Worker motivation and satisfaction might improve since workers are no longer restricted to routine operations, enjoy management powers, and can contribute to developments in their work processes. (Waters, M. 1995) Globalization also has an impact on the organization itself, as follows: †¢ Organizational reformation is required. This reformation makes the organization flat. Decision-making powers are decentralized. †¢ Communications are better and the organization is capable to make timely responses to its environment. †¢ Introduction of new products and services is improved and varieties of products can be efficiently introduced and marketed by the organization. †¢ The organization is competent to improve its efficiency, quality, and competitiveness. (Scott, A. 1997) Today’s advanced technology can, conversely, easily become a basic technology. A rapid increase of new technologies also brings rapid obsolescence of earlier technologies. Policies concerning technology must not be static; they must keep evolving. Stalk (1988) points out that â€Å"competitive advantage is a persistently moving target . . . The best competitors, the most thriving ones, know how to keep moving and always stay on the cutting edge. † Competitiveness A company should be able to evaluate potential new technologies quickly. The goal must be to remain competitive, and effective management of technology is a vital step in achieving this. With an increased focus on customer satisfaction, technology is a decisive means for achieving customer satisfaction. Browning (1990) notes that a learning organization â€Å"uses technology incessantly to refresh its knowledge of its customers’ wants and to work out new ways of satisfying them. † This commitment to be a learning organization needs vast resources, however. For example, Browning also points out that building a learning organization â€Å"necessitates new skills, clever people and capable machines. † Noticeably, technology and human resources should be used together for the organization to stay competitive (Cunningham, S. and Jacka, E. 1996). Barabba and Zaltman (1991) note that â€Å"hearing the accent of the market and making constructive use of it with respect to the voice of the firm is a learning progression. † Essentially, the voice of the market has to be interpreted into facts and tasks that will lead to suitable products or services to satisfy customer needs. This is related to the application of quality function deployment, whereby the organization expands its strategic plans to assure customer needs. Thus, a learning organization should also be a caring organization. As a caring organization, its major objective is to please its stock or stakeholders, its customers, and employees, and also to be collectively responsible. The traditional organization, with the focus on satisfying stockholders alone, is varying to this new form, with a sophisticated stakeholder group (Petrella, R. 1999). Thus, globalization and human resources’ management are recognized as key variables that facilitate an organization to improve its productivity, quality, and competitiveness. A critical constituent is the information technology, which offers both opportunities and challenges. The organization should show understanding to its environment via its policies, and be learning and caring organization, as time and reliability influence competitiveness. Finally, organizations should innovate and constantly move to achieve new targets, particularly in view of today’s rapidly developing new technologies (Shields, R. 1997).

Twilight 1. FIRST SIGHT

Meyer, Stephanie, 1973- Twilight : a novel / by Stephanie Meyer. – 1st ed. Summary: Grade 9 Up – Headstrong, sun-loving, 17-year-old Bella declines her mom's invitation to move to Florida, and instead reluctantly opts to move to her dad's cabin in the dreary, rainy town of Forks, WA. She becomes intrigued with Edward Cullen, a distant, stylish, and disarmingly handsome senior, who is also a vampire. When he reveals that his specific clan hunts wildlife instead of humans, Bella deduces that she is safe from his blood-sucking instincts and therefore free to fall hopelessly in love with him. The feeling is mutual, and the resulting volatile romance smolders as they attempt to hide Edward's identity from her family and the rest of the school. Meyer adds an eerie new twist to the mismatched, star-crossed lovers theme: predator falls for prey, human falls for vampire. This tension strips away any pretense readers may have about the everyday teen romance novel, and kissing, touching, and talking take on an entirely new meaning when one small mistake could b e life-threatening. Bella and Edward's struggle to make their relationship work becomes a struggle for survival, especially when vampires from an outside clan infiltrate the Cullen territory and head straight for her. As a result, the novel's danger-factor skyrockets as the excitement of secret love and hushed affection morphs into a terrifying race to stay alive. Realistic, subtle, succinct, and easy to follow, Twilight will have readers dying to sink their teeth into it. For my big sister, Emily, without whose enthusiasm this story might still be unfinished. But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die. Genesis 2:17 PREFACE I'd never given much thought to how I would die – though I'd had reason enough in the last few months – but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this. I stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and he looked pleasantly back at me. Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something. I knew that if I'd never gone to Forks, I wouldn't be facing death now. But, terrified as I was, I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision. When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it's not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end. The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill me. 1. FIRST SIGHT My mother drove me to the airport with thewindows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees inPhoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I waswearing my favorite shirt – sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearingit as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka. In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small townnamed Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United Statesof America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade thatmy mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until Iwas fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for twoweeks instead. It was to Forks that I now exiled myself- an action that I took withgreat horror. I detested Forks. I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved thevigorous, sprawling city. â€Å"Bella,† my mom said to me – the last of athousand times – before I goton the plane. â€Å"You don't have to do this.† My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt aspasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, harebrained mother to fend for herself? Of course shehad Phil now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still†¦ â€Å"I want to go,† I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now. â€Å"Tell Charlie I said hi.† â€Å"I will.† â€Å"I'll see you soon,† she insisted. â€Å"You can come home whenever you want -I'll come right back as soon as you need me.† But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise. â€Å"Don't worry about me,† I urged. â€Å"It'll be great. I love you, Mom.† She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and shewas gone. It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I wasa little worried about. Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemedgenuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first timewith any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for highschool and was going to help me get a car. But it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what anyonewould call verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision – like my motherbefore me, I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for Forks. When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen- just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun. Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too.Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. My primarymotivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, wasthat I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lightson top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop. Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off theplane. â€Å"It's good to see you, Bells,† he said, smiling as he automaticallycaught and steadied me. â€Å"You haven't changed much. How's Ren? ¦e?† â€Å"Mom's fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad.† I wasn't allowed to callhim Charlie to his face. I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable forWashington. My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunk ofthe cruiser. â€Å"I found a good car for you, really cheap,† he announced when we werestrapped in. â€Å"What kind of car?† I was suspicious of the way he said â€Å"good car foryou† as opposed to just â€Å"good car.† â€Å"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy.† â€Å"Where did you find it?† â€Å"Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?† La Push is the tiny Indianreservation on the coast. â€Å"No.† â€Å"He used to go fishing with us during the summer,† Charlie prompted. That would explain why I didn't remember him. I do a good job of blockingpainful, unnecessary things from my memory. â€Å"He's in a wheelchair now,† Charlie continued when I didn't respond, â€Å"sohe can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap.† â€Å"What year is it?† I could see from his change of expression that thiswas the question he was hoping I wouldn't ask. â€Å"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine – it's only a few yearsold, really.† I hoped he didn't think so little of me as to believe I would give up that easily. â€Å"When did he buy it?† â€Å"He bought it in 1984, I think.† â€Å"Did he buy it new?† â€Å"Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties – or late fifties atthe earliest,† he admitted sheepishly. â€Å"Ch – Dad, I don't really know anything about cars. I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I couldn't afford a mechanic†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don't build them like thatanymore.† The thing, I thought to myself†¦ it had possibilities – as a nickname, atthe very least. â€Å"How cheap is cheap?† After all, that was the part I couldn't compromise on. â€Å"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift.† Charlie peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression. Wow. Free. â€Å"You didn't need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car.† â€Å"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here.† He was looking ahead at theroad when he said this. Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him. So I was looking straightahead as I responded. â€Å"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it.† No need to addthat my being happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer along with me. And I never looked a free truck in the mouth – or engine. â€Å"Well, now, you're welcome,† he mumbled,embarrassed by my thanks. We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for Conversation. We stared out the windows in silence. It was beautiful, of course; I couldn't deny that. Everything was green:the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves. It was too green – an alien planet. Eventually we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the small,two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early days oftheir marriage. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had – the early ones. There, parked on the street in front of the house that never changed, was my new – well, new to me – truck. It was a faded red color,with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it. I didn't know if it would run, but I could see myself in it.Plus, it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged -the kind you see at the scene of an accident, paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed. â€Å"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!† Now my horrific day tomorrow would be justthat much less dreadful. I wouldn't be faced with the choice of either walking two miles in the rain to school or accepting a ride in the Chief's cruiser. â€Å"I'm glad you like it,† Charlie said gruffly,embarrassed again. It took only one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I got the westbedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had been belonged to me since I was born. The wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellowed lace curtains around the window -these were all a part of my childhood. The only changes Charlie had ever made were switching the crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew. Thedesk now held a secondhand computer, with the phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the nearest phone jack. This was a stipulation from my mother, so that we could stay in touch easily. The rocking chair from my baby days was still in the corner. There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact. One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover. He left me alone to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether impossible for my mother. It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape. I wasn't in the mood to go on a real crying jag. I would save that for bedtime, when I would have to think about the coming morning. Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven – now fifty-eight – students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together – their grandparents had been toddlers together. I would be the new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak. Maybe, if I looked like a girl from Phoenix should, I could work this tomy advantage. But physically, I'd never fit in anywhere. I should be tan,sporty, blond – a volleyball player, or a cheerleader, perhaps – all thethings that go with living in the valley of the sun. Instead, I was ivory-skinned, without even the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, despite the constant sunshine. I had always been slender, but soft somehow, obviously not an athlete; I didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself – and harming both myself and anyone else who stood too close. When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom necessities and went to the communal bathroom to clean myself up after the day of travel. I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed through my tangled, damp hair. Maybe it was the light, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be pretty – it was very clear, almost translucent-looking- but it all depended on color. I had no color here. Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn't just physically that I'd never fit in. And if I couldn't find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here? I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never on exactly the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain. But the cause didn't matter. All that mattered was the effect. And tomorrow would be just the beginning. I didn't sleep well that night, even after I was done crying. The constant whooshing of the rain and wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background. I pulled the faded old quilt over my head, and later added the pillow, too. But I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight, when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle. Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning, and I could feel the claustrophobiacreeping up on me. You could never see the skyhere; it was like a cage. Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He wished me good luck at school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. After he left, I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and examined his small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothingwas changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by the procession of my school pictures up to last year's. Those were embarrassing to look at – I would have to see what I could do to get Charlie to put them somewhere else, at least whi le I wasliving here. It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie hadnever gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. I donned my jacket – which had the feel of a biohazard suit -and headed out into the rain. It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the door, and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I couldn't pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair under my hood. Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started quickly,to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus that I hadn't expected. Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain-link fences,the metal detectors? I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading front office. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door. Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wear ing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed. The red-haired woman looked up. â€Å"Can I help you?† â€Å"I'm Isabella Swan,† I informed her, and saw the immediate awarenesslight her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last. â€Å"Of course,† she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. â€Å"I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school.† She brought several sheets to the counter to show roe. She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could. When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me. I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now; hopefully I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. I can do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one was going to bite me. I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck. I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My plain black jacket didn't stand out, I noticed with relief. Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A largeblack â€Å"3† was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door. The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde, the other also pale, with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn't be a standout here. I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name – not an encouraging response – and of course I flushed tomato red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I'd already read everything. That was comforting†¦ and boring. I wondered if my mom would send me my folder of old essays, or if she would think that was cheating. I went through different arguments with her in my head while the teacher droned on. When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me. â€Å"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?† He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type. â€Å"Bella,† I corrected. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me. â€Å"Where's your next class?† he asked. I had to check in my bag. â€Å"Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six.† There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes. â€Å"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Definitely over-helpful. â€Å"I'm Eric,† he added. I smiled tentatively. â€Å"Thanks.† We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid. â€Å"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?† he asked. â€Å"Very.† â€Å"It doesn't rain much there, does it?† â€Å"Three or four times a year.† â€Å"Wow, what must that be like?† he wondered. â€Å"Sunny,† I told him. â€Å"You don't look very tan.† â€Å"My mother is part albino.† He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm. We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked. â€Å"Well, good luck,† he said as I touched the handle. â€Å"Maybe we'll have some other classes together.† He sounded hopeful. I smiled at him vaguely and went inside. 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 fromEnglish, 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, lessbulky, 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 thebronze-haired boy. They were all looking away – away from each other, away from the otherstudents, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray -unopened soda, unbittenapple – 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. â€Å"Who are they?† I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I'd forgotten. As she looked up to see who I meant – though already knowing, probably, from my tone – suddenly he looked at her, the thinner one, the boyish one, the youngest, perhaps. He looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine. He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest – it was as if she had called his name, and he'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer. My neighbor giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did. â€Å"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife.† She said this under her breath. I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now,picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them. Strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kinds of names grandparents had. But maybe that was in vogue here – small town names? I finally remembered that my neighbor was called Jessica, a perfectly common name. There were two girls named Jessica in my History class back home. â€Å"They are†¦ very nice-looking.† I struggled with the conspicuous understatement. â€Å"Yes!† Jessica agreed with another giggle. â€Å"They're all together though – Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together.† Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip. â€Å"Which ones are the Cullens?† I asked. â€Å"They don't look related†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins – the blondes – and they're foster children.† â€Å"They look a little old for foster children.† â€Å"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that.† â€Å"That's really kind of nice – for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything.† â€Å"I guess so,† Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. â€Å"I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though,† she added, as if that lessened their kindness. Throughout all this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the walls and not eat. â€Å"Have they always lived in Forks?† I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my summers here. â€Å"No,† she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. â€Å"They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska.† I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that I wasn't the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard. As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation. â€Å"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?† I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today – he had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again. â€Å"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him.† She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd turned her down. I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too. After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful – even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again. I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me that her name was Angela, had Biology II with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence. She was shy, too. When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat. As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face – it was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I stumbled over a book in the walkway and had to catch myself on the edge of a table. The girl sitting there giggled. I'd noticed that his eyes were black – coal black. Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by him, bewildered by the antagonistic stare he'd given me. I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like strawberries, the scent of my favorite shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odor. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher. Unfortunately the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down. I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my hair at the strange boy next to me. During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly brother. The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for his tight fist to loosen? It never did; he continued to sit so still it looked like he wasn't breathing. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behavior? I questioned my judgment on Jessica's bitterness at lunch today. Maybe she was not as resentful as I'd thought. It couldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't know me from Eve. I peeked up at him one more time, and regretted it. He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from him, shrinking against my chair, the phrase if looks could kill suddenly ran through my mind. At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose – he was much taller than I'd thought – his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat. I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn't fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency. â€Å"Aren't you Isabella Swan?† a male voice asked. I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously didn't think I smelled bad. â€Å"Bella,† I corrected him, with a smile. â€Å"I'm Mike.† â€Å"Hi, Mike.† â€Å"Do you need any help finding your next class?† â€Å"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it.† â€Å"That's my next class, too.† He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small. We walked to class together; he was a chatterer – he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today. But as we were entering the gym, he asked, â€Å"So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that.† I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasn't Edward Cullen's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb. â€Å"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?† I asked artlessly. â€Å"Yes,† he said. â€Å"He looked like he was in pain or something.† â€Å"I don't know,† I responded. â€Å"I never spoke to him.† â€Å"He's a weird guy.† Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. â€Å"If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you.† I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring. But it wasn't enough to ease my irritation. The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. At home, only two years of RE. were required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell on Earth. I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained – and inflicted – playing volleyball, I felt faintly nauseated. The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself. When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out. Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free. He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time – any other time. I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me. The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he turned slowly to glare at me – his face was absurdly handsome – with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist. â€Å"Never mind, then,† he said hastily in a voice like velvet. â€Å"I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help.† And he turned on his heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door. I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip. â€Å"How did your first day go, dear?† the receptionist asked maternally. â€Å"Fine,† I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced. When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. I headed back to Charlie's house, fighting tears the whole way there.

The Texas Family Code s Treatment Of Grandparents Essay

Interim Charge 6 - Examine the Texas Family Code s treatment of grandparents in the parent-child relationship, including Chapters 32, 34, 153, 161 and 162. The Honorable Denisse Garcia, Judge, 303rd Family District Court, Dallas - 12 years as a judge. Maria, is her daughter and she is grateful for the grandparents she has because they take care of. Grandparents are stepping in as parents. The State is not ready to adequately take care of kids. It is easier for grandparents to get full custody by suing the parents instead of getting them for a few hours (visitation hours). Any person at any time can sue for visitation under the Washington Statute. Grandparents would be of the best interest unless mother can prove that the children are better without the grandparents. -Rep. Hughes ask question regarding other states statutes -Judge Garcia - Does not know she mentions Idaho. -Ms. Kathy Kinser, Attorney at Law, Kinser Bates, LLP, Dallas Grandparents have to sign an affidavit. 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