DISCLAIMER: Sadly I do not own Twilight. Props to SMeyer for giving us great characters to play with.
Prologue
One year was all I was given.
One year to make a difference in this world.
One year to experience everything I've always wanted.
One year to make my mark on the world.
Chapter One
Another gloriously wet day in Seattle, another day ticked off the calendar. The lead coloured clouds rolled in and soon my windows were bombarded with torrents of rain drops.
I could practically hear Tahiti calling out to me.
My mom would be knocking on my door any second now.
I groaned and rolled over, staring at the ceiling remembering the days when I would fake sick and just stay at home. I would just sit here in my room and count. Just count. Whether it was how rain drops there on the windows or how many seconds had passed since the last time my mom asked if I wanted chicken noodle soup.
Suddenly she was knocking at my door.
"Honey, I'm going to the store now. Is there anything you want?"
My mother, Esme Ann Cullen. She baked the best triple chocolate chip cookies in the state, was married at 19 to her high school sweetheart, Carlisle Cullen the greatest cardiac thoracic surgeon in the North West of the country, and gave birth to one beautiful, bouncing baby boy. She was also the head of every charity committee in town and was best known for her uncanny ability to throw the best parties. Classic trophy wife and mother with a heart of gold.
Of course it wouldn't always be that way. Even I knew people had their breaking points, I didn't know how much longer she could keep up this facade. I didn't know how much longer I could stand to watch her.
"No, Mom. I'm fine," I said loud enough for her to hear through the door. I didn't feel like getting up just yet, let alone have a conversation with my mother.
I was half expecting her to pop her head in and ask if I wanted to go with her; nothing like a field trip to the supermarket to cure the blues.
Instead I heard her turn around and march down the stairs. Of course my mother didn't actually march down the stairs; it was far too ungraceful a word to describe Esme Cullen.
You know I wasn't always this miserable.
I was once a rational human being with real emotions, including joy. I even had the ability to cry.
Of course physically I probably still had that ability to produce tears but you would need some emotion behind them to achieve a full crying jag. I didn't have any or if I did, I was pretty sure they would only produce a meagre amount, if any.
I began to laugh hysterically. When did my life get so fucked up that I was seriously considering whether or not I could still cry?
For fuck's sake, when did I become so mediocre?
My hands automatically reached for my already untidy hair. I tugged at the ends and in my frustration managed to pull out a few strands.
I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. 20 minutes and 1 later, I throw on some half decent clothes. At least they were clean, they smelled cleaned.
Looking for my car keys however presented itself to be quite a problem. I hadn't left the house all week; so I haven't had a reason to drive my baby lately.
Yeah, I was one of those guys who obsessed over their cars. For graduation my parents had gotten me a Vantage. Rose being the automotive goddess that she is had improved the already perfect engine and totally made a machine out of my baby. She was beautiful. The car, I mean but I'm not saying Rose isn't beautiful either. Because trust me even on her worst days she could make Angelina Jolie look like a sick dog. However if Emmett ever heard any guy checking out Rosalie – let's just say they won't ever have the chance to do it ever again.
Just sitting in my car was soothing. It was like nothing and no one else existed; just me and the cool leather against my skin. My own personal bubble. Could life be any sweeter?
The engine began to purr as I backed the car out of the driveway. The smooth vibrations were some the only comforts I had left in life; sort of tragic really, if you thought about it.
The rain had made the roads slick giving the tarmac an almost glossy effect. I could imagine how easily some clown could lose control of their car should they take their eyes off the road for even a millisecond. It was all it would take and before you know it, you've already destroyed a family; killed someone's brother, sister, husband, wife, mother, father, girlfriend, boyfriend, best friend, somebody who means the world to someone else.
I think it's time for my Prozac.
Driving had once been my escape from the craziness of my family. It gave me the option to just get away and calm down before I did or said something I would surely regret later. Eventually I got tired of running away so instead I turned off any emotions and gradually it became permanent.
I take a left turn and park my car. The rain was dying down and was slowly turning into a light spray.
Ashford Park still hadn't changed much since my childhood. It was here where I'd met Jasper, good old Jasper.
To a five year old the sandbox was probably the best invention mankind had ever come up with, I would have to agree with them. It was at the sandbox where I met some of the most important people in life. It was also at the sandbox where I learned some of the most important lessons in life i.e. Girls are mean, don't eat sand covered ice-cream and children really are cruel.
Jasper was the new kid from Texas. He called his mom 'Mama' and had a really funny accent. The other kids wouldn't even talk to him but I did. Of course in having done so I too became an outcast.
It was the start of a beautiful friendship.
My pocket began to vibrate. I took my phone out and checked the caller ID.
Speaking of the devil, "Dude, where the hell are you? We're all here waiting for you. You said you were coming today. Man, if you don't turn up in like 10 minutes, Alice is gonna friggin hunt you down and drag you here by your balls."
I scowled. She probably would too.
"Isn't that a great way to greet someone, Jasper? Of course most people like to say hello but no, you Southerners like to get to the point," I say coolly. I wanted to piss him off.
The only response I got was a faint growling sound.
"I know, I know I said I was coming but I forgot. I'll drop by in 20. I just have some things to sort through," I say hastily. I didn't want him that pissed. He was growling at me fuck's sake.
"You forgot? Seriously man, you said you were coming for sure this time. Alice is going to hack your balls off with an ice pick if you don't turn up."
Again, I really could picture Alice wielding an ice pick and lunging for my manhood.
Jeez, manhood?
"Jasper, I said I'd drop by and I will. Just give me time. Good things come to those who wait," I said.
"Who the hell are you? Ghandi? Seriously if you aren't here in like half an hour me and Emmett are gonna drag your sorry ass here and hold you down while Alice hacks off your nuts," Even after all these years of living up in the north, Jasper still managed to hang on to a slight southern drawl, "While Rose makes sure to record every single minute of it."
"Yeah, yeah. See you in 30 cowboy." I heard him chuckle then mutter something about Texan stereotypes and teaching me a lesson.
I turned off my phone and sat on the bench. It was cold and wet but the solitude was appealing. I wasn't running away this time.
Just thinking.
Life could get so complicated that even thinking sometimes became impossible, that your thoughts became so muddled that you can't even remember what happened yesterday.
I had huge respect for my father. He was the best cardio thoracic surgeon in the Pacific North West and Chief of Surgery at Harborview. He had people's lives in his hand every single day. He had the power to save people.
As great as that sounds, it always scared me; to put that much power in another persons' hands. It was like saying "Hey, since you have a degree from Harvard Medical School and look like a pretty alright guy, do you mind playing God just for a few hours while you operate on me, you know make sure I don't die and leave my wife and three kids fatherless and in debt?"
I don't know how my dad managed to not crumple under the weight of the huge responsibility. It also surprised me that he didn't develop a God complex. I always thought it was unfair that people put so much trust into him, not that I thought my dad was untrustworthy, it's just that if he failed it would be his entire fault. I told him this once and all he did was laugh and say 'People know I am not God. They know I am only human and doing my best to save other peoples' lives. They know better than to expect miracles.' I was only 7 when he said this to me. It wouldn't be for some time before I really grasped the concept of what he was saying.
--
Today was a good day for procrastination. Well in my book any day was good for procrastination but today was special. I didn't want to feel rushed into doing anything in particular right now. I just wanted to be.
As much as I loved hanging out with Jasper and everyone else, today I was in the mood for procrastination, not margaritas or cosmopolitans or screaming orgasms, or whatever girly cocktail concoction Alice wanted to shove down our throats. Today was my procrastinating day. I was certainly in no rush to get to Alice's.
Funny thing about procrastination, you can only ever put something off long enough to realize you have a whole list of things you don't necessarily want to do but will eventually have to anyway. Then you realize procrastinating really didn't do you any favours, it just gave you time to think and worry and ultimately do what you were trying to put off.
Whoah.
God, I sound like one those nuts who ramble about the apocalypse.
Whatever, I was procrastinating; better than masturbating as Father Bradley would say. He didn't actually go around saying procrastinating is better than masturbating, that would just be really creepy, he did however do a sermon on masturbation and why it was worst than premarital sex; something to do with having to conjure up pornographic or sexual images in order to please yourself.
My family wasn't extremely religious but we did try to make an appearance at church at least once a month or so. After that sermon however, my appearances became fewer and father between. I was fifteen at the time and was going through puberty, not exactly the easiest place to be in life.
I got the lecture at school during health class that masturbation was safer than sex because there's no chance of catching an STD or getting a girl pregnant. Coach Clapp had also rambled on that most teenagers, especially boys, weren't emotionally mature enough to handle a sexual relationship.
I listened to neither of them because eventually my own father gave me the talk and I was suddenly regretting not having listened to Coach Clapp or Father Bradley. And because my dad was a surgeon I had to listen as he recited every gruesome anatomical change that was going to happen or was already happening in my body. Of course it probably wasn't as easy for my dad to be talking about this with me either but was it really necessary to tell me that Barramundi went through their own type of puberty too? He explained how they were always born as males and when they got older became females. I sat in my seat and said nothing and looked at everything but him. I thought my dad had begun secretly prescribing himself with some weird drug. Then as if things couldn't get any worse, and I real thought it couldn't after the transvestite fish story, he straight up asked me if I was still a virgin.
My eyes bugged out of their sockets and I think I went into cardiac arrest. I looked up and saw that my father was still waiting for an answer. Did he honest to god think I'd already begun sleeping around with girls? I gaped at him but managed to shake my head. I thought the worse was finally over. I breathed a sigh of relief, then my dad spoke again.
"Son, you know I would understand if you are no longer a virgin-" he paused, trying to think of a way to get his point across without making a complete asshat out of himself ( a little late for that don't you think?), "I know that times have changed since I was a young man, but I want you to understand that you can to me or your mother about anything."
I wanted this moment to just end. If I had to hear my dad say 'virgin' one more time, I might just shoot him.
"Umm...Thanks Dad but I can safely say that I am a virgin and plan on staying one until I, um – get married? Umm...Or if I find the right girl – who I would have to love or really care about, you know. So, yeah – umm no sex for me."
I don't know how many times I stuttered and said 'umm' in that sentence. The ''no sex for me' bit was like the icing on the most-disastrous-sex-talk-ever-cake. However my dad seemed to believe me or chose to anyway, and left the table. This time I didn't sigh in relief instead I made a mad dash for the front door and ran all the way to Ashford Park, 8 miles away.
That talk was the most embarrassing and emotionally scaring conversation I've had in my life to date. I doubt my father ever told his patients about transvestite fish.
I glanced down at watch and was shocked to see the time. I'd been sitting on the park bench for almost an hour. Alice was definitely going to hack off my balls with an ice pick.
What fun.