A/N: I thought I would try JPOV as drabbles. Just to get more of a feel for his character on paper, and to challenge myself.
Anger
Once again he's drunk. I hear yelling when I walk into the house, and I quickly slip into my room and turn my iPod up as loud as I can stand to drown out his voice.
How does she put up with him, still, after all these years?
I barely remember anything different, but she insists it wasn't always this way.
Glass shattering, loud enough to startle me over the music.
I rush her to the emergency room, while he curses at us from the driveway.
Is it finally enough? Will eighty stitches convince her to walk away for good?
Running
When she decides to make a change, she goes all out.
A new job, a new home, a new life... I hope.
Will I find friends here? Now that I'm not terrified that someone will spill our dirty little secret, now that I can invite people over... Perhaps I can make up for all the classes I missed cleaning up our problems, nursing Mom after one of Dad's rages, fixin' all the things he'd broken. Maybe I can just be myself for a change and quit hiding behind my facade.
Will I finally find someone for me? Do I dare?
Dreams
I imagine my new life unfolding, unfurling before me, endless possibilities ahead. I dream of love and friendship, companionship and sex (I'm a teenager, what do you expect?).
But reality reminds me that I've hidden behind my mask for so long, my only forays into interpersonal relationships hidden in back alleys and bathrooms, never daring for a hint of my sexuality to reach my father. Not that I feared for myself, but everything that angered him ended up biting my mama in the ass, not me, so I hid from everyone. Maybe my mama's fresh start will be mine, too.
Fresh
I wake nervous, excited, fearful, happy, goshdarn jumping emotional tracks every second. Deep breaths to calm me down result in nearly hyper-ventilating in the shower, but I'm finally dressed and ready to go. I'm determined to be myself, no faking it, no pretending now. I have an opportunity to start over as me, and I'm going for it.
My pep talk lasts until I walk out the door, and the fears take over again. Can I do this? Should I do this? Should I instead just hide for one more year and wait for college to come out, come clean?
Gossip
I knew we were moving to a small town, but I never realized how tiny that made the high school. It seems that everyone knows all about each other, and that makes my arrival the main topic of conversation. By lunch, I'm so overwhelmed that I sneak out into the parking lot and sit among the cars just to escape the gossiping girls and speculative glances.
How am I going to make it through the day? Haven't they ever seen a new student before? I leave the haven of the parking lot and make it to my next class, biology.
Stunned
I arrive just before class starts and slide into the last remaining seat. The silence deafens me as all speech stops and my head spins. Next to me is the boy of my dreams – all bronze hair and slenderness, and an air of aloofness and sadness that immediately makes me want to protect and keep him hidden away safely from the world. Such a visceral reaction to a stranger shakes the foundations of my thinking. I never thought love at first sight existed, not even lust at first sight, but something is happening here. Will he be my one?
Firsts
I manage to introduce myself and not drool. Edward sympathizes with my gossip problem, and tells me there hasn't been a new student in five years, since he himself moved here. The teacher starts class just as he suggests finding a girlfriend to slow down the female huntresses. I mumble an answer back under my breath, and think to myself that it's a boyfriend I want to find and that he's the one I want. Of course, I realize that will set the gossips off even harder, but maybe on the west coast it will be easier than good-ol'-boy Texas.
Replay
As I sit in my room the day's events fly past my mind's eye. The extra tutoring after school every day to keep me on track with my peers will help fill the long hours mama's working now, but homework isn't keeping my attention now. He is... I see his messy hair and green eyes in my thoughts and feel my cock fill with blood. As I reach down to palm my length, I imagine his hand in place of mine and groan. Could I get so lucky? How is this beautiful boy not taken already – or is he?
Slowly
I have no idea how to get to know him, this boy that fills my waking thoughts and sleeping dreams. The only class we share is biology, but at least we share a table. Each day I sneak glances at him as he takes notes and reads in his textbook, and I often catch his fingers moving in patterns on the desktop. Music, perhaps? The movements could be those of notes on a piano, and I wonder if he plays. Perhaps that could be the break I need, the topic that allows me to talk and gets him to speak.
Friends
Edward's brother shares several of my classes and has suddenly started talking to me. It strikes me as strange – we don't have much in common. He's definitely a jock, and I've never had time for sports. However, I promised myself I would be friendly and make friends, so I chance it. Slowly, I realize he is pumping me for information, little bits and pieces here and there of my past. Please don't let him be trying to fix me up with Rosie, I mean, his twin is a beautiful girl, but she's not the Cullen I want and need.
Assignment
Our biology teacher is a gift from God today! Major project, two-thirds of our grade, with assigned seatmates! Finally, a chance to spend time with Edward outside of class. We make plans to work together after school Monday. I know my weekend will be physically exhausting since I promised Mama to paint several rooms for her but mentally I'm already planning to get my questions answered. Before I spend time alone with my boy, I need to know if I stand a chance. I've never seen him with anyone, girl or boy, so my best hope for info is Emmett.
Question
Last class of the day is another one I share with Emmett. I make sure to hang by the door to the hall and wait for him to gather his things, then saunter over and ask my big question. Do I stand a snowball's chance in hell with his brother or should I stuff my crush and try to move on? The shit-eating grin that crosses his face says it all, and he tells me what I'm dying to hear - "Go for it, man!" If only I knew how...
Somehow, though, I know that boy will be mine.
Inked
I celebrate my eighteenth birthday with just mama, and then sneak off to the city for one gift to myself.
Another rebellion against my absent, alcoholic jerk of so-called father.
Low on my back, a Texas star to remind me of my roots, dangling a rope with a frayed-end to symbolize breaking free of his hold. The tattoo artist free-hands it from my description, and it is even better than in my imagination. The needles hurt like an s.o.b., but the pain both grounds and frees me.
Someday, I may tie the rope to something new – or someone new.
Study
Finally alone. Snacks, drinks, books, notes, me and Edward. In his mama's kitchen, he keeps drifting off somewhere. I wonder where he goes when his eyes glaze over. I wonder if they glaze over like that when he comes. I want to see him come...
I repeat myself for him, and we both make an obvious effort to concentrate on schoolwork. He's so fucking brilliant, and I want to devour him. He asks me leading questions, and I tell him more about myself than I've told anyone, but I want him to know me. I want to know him, too.
Dinner
Edward's mama invites me to join them for dinner, and I allow her to convince me. I'm lonely at home, and I want to be where he is. His family is a hoot, and includes me in their craziness like I've been around forever. It feels like home, and I realize I've never had that. We plan to finish our project on Saturday, and his mama invites me to stay for dinner, then as well, and bring my mama. The welcome here amazes me, but I can tell by the sideways glances from Emmett and Rosie that they are match-making.
Football
Edward's family invites me to join them for their Friday night football tradition. Edward, Esme and Carlisle sit together in the stands every game to cheer for Emmett on the field. Rosie is a cheerleader. After every game, win or lose, they tell me, the local diner sets up an ice cream sundae bar for the whole town to enjoy – free if you bring your football ticket. I agree to go. Hmmm, it looks as if his whole family wants to set us up together. I suppose that answers any questions of their acceptance if I date their boy.
Bold
He walks me to the front door, down a long quiet hallway. I refuse to let this chance slip through my fingers, and though I am nervous, I find a way to ask him what I need to know. Back and forth we go, dancing around our nerves, and alternately finding our courage to admit we feel something special. "Have you ever had a boyfriend before?" I ask, amazed at the cockiness I feel, knowing that my feelings are reciprocated. As he gets what I've asked, he stumbles over his words, but agrees that he wants to be mine.
Air
I start for home, head in the clouds, thrilled just to know he cares, too. Wondering about his past, and what made him so closed off to other people. Planning tomorrow, wanting to hold his hand but wondering if it's too soon. I've never been in a relationship, either, so we'll be breaking new ground together. Together... just the thought makes me grin like a fool. I make plans for our football date, even though it is with his family. I chuckle when I realize we haven't even exchanged phone numbers and make plans to fix that in class tomorrow.
Texts
Coming up with twenty questions I wanted answered took most of my morning. I wanted to know about his first family, now that I knew he was adopted, but I felt that other things should come first. Too heavy a topic for text messages, I thought.
Favorite color?
Favorite song?
Favorite artist or group?
Live or recorded music?
Favorite movie?
Birthday?
Birth place?
Had he ever traveled?
If so, where?
Favorite sport?
Hobbies?
Favorite memory?
Fast food or sit-down dinner?
Rock or classical concerts?
Did he like opera? Ballet? Plays? Musicals?
These were easier ones for us both to answer.
Texts2
My later questions became more serious.
Religious views?
Political views?
What were his post-graduation plans?
Boxers or briefs? (That one made me smirk, and I wondered if he would blush when he read it. And what he would think of my answer when I told him I usually went commando.)
Would he hold my hand in public?
That last one would be the hardest for us both, I thought. The terror my father had placed in my heart kept me up at night, and I worried that he would stop my new life, even now. I vowed to stop him.
