In the summer of 2009, I was 14-years-old, vacationing with friends on a lake in small-town New Zealand. The weather was faultless, water glassy, and our wardrobe consisted solely of crop tops and jean shorts. And yet, my friends and I fantasized about being 10,000 miles away, in the beating rain, dressed in hoodies and converse. Specifically, wanted to be in Forks, Washington, with Edward Cullen, or Jacob Black. 

Reading the Twilight series for the first time was transcendent, not...