Summary: Twilight and Mediator crossover. Jay moves to Forks for her mother. There she meets the spirit of vampire Edward Cullen. She finds out he is trying to find out what happened to his long lost love Bella. Can she help him? Can new acquaintances turn into something more? EXB?
Chapter One- New Beginnings
JayPOV (it's gonna be Jay's POV throughout the whole story unless i show that it's someone else's)
"Excuse me, would you like another pillow?" I looked up from my book – The Da Vinci Code – to find a young male steward smiling coyly down at me. His thoughts were evident on his face. He had dull light blue eyes and short spiked blond hair.
"Thanks." I answered frostily as a rolled my eyes. He handed me the pillow and walked away. I suppressed a sigh.
My trip wasn't looking good already. First my spontaneous mother decides to get married to some guy she met at the cafe. The wedding was in November. I have nothing against Mark – he was a really nice guy. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Mark wants me to move in with them at their new house in Forks. He wants to get to know me better and he convinced Clarisse – my mother – that it'd be good.
She doesn't even like me that much! Honestly. I was the burden she had to put up with when she was in college. I was the one who shame-faced her in front of her wealthy family. Yeah. It was my fault she got knocked up with me when she was 19. Yep. My fault.
So you can understand how things would be rocky between us since then. It's been 17 goddamn years and she still hasn't forgiven me – yeah, like it was my fault – for what she had to put up with from her family. They basically disowned her for getting preggers without being married. Oh, the shame.
I know I need a change of scenery, but why now? I'm in the 11th grade now, and just when things finally start to look up for me I have to move? I mean, where's the justice in that? I have friends back home who were pretty peeved at me moving (but I wouldn't call them real friends – we were never on the same page and I never felt comfortable getting close with people) and I was days away from getting myself a boyfriend. Well, it was a huge step for me to accept a proposal for dinner from a guy. Guys would notice me occasionally even though I was never your blonde-bimbo-cheerleader type. They would always find a reason to ask me out on dates, and me, being me, would politely refuse.
My mother thinks I'm a social reject because I have never been out on a date. Just because I was half French – from her side of the family – and she named me Jacqueline, she expects me to have a guy wrapped around my finger. She would always lecture me over the phone – when she rarely calls – when I tell her my dating history. She would always say the same: "Jacqueline, go get a boyfriend and stop attention seeking. It's not mature. You're not better than anyone else. Be normal and stop embarrassing yourself." And I would always pretend to be enlightened by her advice.
Truth is I'm not exactly normal.
So here's the deal, I was never your average child. Even from the time I was eight I had an extra gift normal people wouldn't have. But I wouldn't call it a gift in my case. For me it would run along the lines of a curse.
So here's how my gift works. I would be out somewhere and some random person who glows a little would start talking to me about how they don't understand what's happening to them. Then I would start telling them they're dead and they have to move on and ask them what's keeping them here and why they can't find peace.... Yadda, yadda, yadda.
Just a day ago at Sydney Airport they bugged me. I was just innocently waiting at the boarding gates for the plane to Seattle when glowing people started to make their way over to me.
"Ugh… Not now…. What's this? The farewell committee?"
I go up with my carry-on luggage and moved to a pretty unpopulated area of the boarding terminal so if any ghosts did actually come up to talk to me and expect me to say something back it wouldn't seem to the living that I was talking to myself.
I sighed. It begins.
"Please, you have to help me…. I am begging…. My ex-wife stole the rosary from my daughter. It's a family heirloom; I need to get it back to my daug-"
"You have to tell Johnny that he is not allowed to give away my music collection. He shouldn't even be-"
"Sweetheart, tell George that he has to water my petunias every day. If they don't get the-"
"Tell my ex-girlfriend, Celia, that Ronald's a dick. Also tell her that I knew about their midnight escapades while we were toget-"
"I want to be buried next to my late husband not with-"
"You have to give me some answers. Why can't my family see me? Why do they think I'm dead? What's happe-"
"Tell my mother I want to donate my entire college fund to Greenpeace. I don't want them to use it to buy a new ca-"
They kept on talking. There were around 30 of them and they all spoke at the same time! My brain was throbbing and I couldn't take it anymore.
"SHUT UP!"
They did.
"I cannot help you right now. As you can see, I am going overseas. Taking a vacation. Get someone else help you with your petty worries." I spoke calmly to them to get them to understand.
"But-"
I shook my head. "No buts. Leave me alone. I'm sure you can find someone else who can help you."
"Hey, but isn't it your job to help us out? You have to be able to see us for a reason." Some gangly kid in the back pointed out.
The rest agreed.
I swear I growled. "Leave me alone. I am not in the mood. When I come back I might be, but in the meantime, I heard about some guy in Melbourne who could do the same thing I could. Go to him."
That's when they called my plane for boarding. I walked off leaving the ghosts complaining.
So there's my big secret. I see, speak to, and feel the dead. That's why I'm called a Mediator.
I looked out my window at the black sky – I couldn't see the stars.
I would never be normal. Ever. Even without my extra sense I never fit in anywhere even through persona or looks. I was paler than anyone I've met in Sydney, Australia. I have reddish brown hair and green eyes that resembled the colour of moss or fungi.
I'm what you would call an outcast.
I put my book away and start settling myself to sleep. I fluffed my two pillows and attempted getting comfortable. With my neck at an awkward angle and my legs crossed I closed my eyes trying to drift off into oblivion. Questions prodded my mind. Will I be outed the same way I was in Australia? Will there be more or less ghosts in this new town. Less I'm hoping. Yeah, probably less. I mean, it is only a tiny town. Definitely less.
Will my sixth sense strengthen? I wasn't even your average mediator – I just keep getting weirder, don't I? – I was a Shifter. That means that I can shift the course of nature – whether it is to live or die, – the course of time and I could shift between the living plate (Earth) and the in-between plate (where spirits go to find out if they're going to heaven, hell or whatever). My grandfather who was also a Shifter and studies them profusely, told me that you get a power surge when something huge happens to you, but he didn't tell me more than that. I haven't felt a power surge yet.
Dejected at my lack of power-ness, I focused on not focussing on anything and try my hardest to sleep.
"But I want a MUFFIN!!"
I felt myself being alerted awake by a toddler in a nearby row. I felt mildly annoyed, but was too groggy to get a focus on my emotions. I yawned and stretched. The food cart was getting push by a stewardess down my aisle. I guess it was breakfast time. This would be the last meal before landing in Seattle. Mmm... The coffee and the muffins smell good. The cart squeaked to a stop next to my seat.
"Good Morning. Would you like muffins or waffles for breakfast this morning?" A blonde stewardess asked me in a polite monotonous voice.
"Waffles." I replied. She handed me a tray.
"Coffee?" She looked down at me.
"Uhh. Yeah, I guess." I responded. She poured me a cup and offered a quick smile. I smiled back.
"Thanks." I said before she left.
The stewardess moved on and asked the same questions to the couple sitting behind me. I tuned everything out and quickly finished my tray and looked outside my small oval shaped window.
The sky was bright blue and there weren't many clouds. A perfect day. Before I knew it we landed in Seattle.
The flight from Seattle to Port Angeles was very brief so I didn't have enough time to wallow in regret about my decision to come to Forks. I should've spent the rest of my life in the place I loved the most. I loved Sydney. I loved the heat. I loved the beaches. I loved the crystalline water.
As the plane landed I got my parka ready, it was raining – no surprise there. I didn't see it as an omen, just unavoidable. I've already said my goodbyes to the sun. I got off the plane quickly with the rest of the passengers. Hmmm. It felt good to have stable ground beneath my feet.
"Jacqueline!" I heard a familiar voice call. I searched the faces of the waiting people. There I found Clarisse and her new husband Mark. Mark looked ecstatic – see, I told you we'd gotten along – Clarisse on the other hand looked bored and mildly annoyed. Oh, forgive me for getting your new season Pradas wet from the slushy airport. I walked over with my luggage and stood awkwardly infront of them. Mark hugged me. Clarisse kissed me on the cheek out of politeness.
"Hey." I greeted. "Lovely to see you guys again. Glad to be here. Wow. Would you tone down the enthusiasm, please, Clarisse? It is stifling." Sarcasm.
She stretched her lips out a bit and showed a little bit of surgically enhanced white teeth. I think it was supposed to be a smile.
Mark clapped his hands once in attempt to break the tension. "Alright guys, let's get this show on the road." He went for my bags and began to lead us towards his car.
He packed my luggage in the boot. It all fit. I strapped myself in as we started to head off. As we reached the woodsy area my mother started to inform about my new room and house. I zoned out as I watched the trees blur by. Forks was beautiful I couldn't deny that. The woods were filled with brilliant shades of green.
Green everywhere. Green leaves, green ground, green trunks of trees.
We reached the civilised area of Forks and I watched that go by also.
Post box, house, house, house, bigger building, pharmacy, grocery store, car, car, car, person, person, car, house, truck carrying wood, person, person, sign about logging, another street, house, house, house, car, person, person, car, house, person, house, house, house, truck, another street....
I think I might've nodded off to sleep because I woke up to the sound of the car door banging close. I yawned.
"We're here." Clarisse said.
"Wow." I said approvingly.
The house had two storeys, had huge windows that faced the forest, had blue shutters and a red door. There was a porch with a swinging chair on it. Very classic but I loved it, it looked very cosy. It had a wide front yard and a huge oak tree on the side of the yard. I could smell the flowers planted on the sides on the pathway that led to the door. Gardenias, Freesias, Peonies, Roses, Daffodils...
"Well, what do you think?" Mark looked at me expectantly.
"Well...your garden can be smelt all the way back in Seattle." I laughed. He chuckled.
"You're mother here planted all of it."
I looked at him incredulously. No way would Clarisse get her Clarins-moisturised hands get dirty. I swivelled my head in her direction and saw a hint of a blush. A BLUSH FOR GODSAKE.
My god, hell has frozen over and no one told me about it. Shudder.
Mark unloaded the luggage and practically dragged me into the house.
He showed me where everything was and told me a brief history of the house. How he bought it after the owner recently died, and all that. But I didn't really care. I was tired and hungry. After the fifteen minutes of the house tour, he made me a sandwich – god bless him – and accepted the fact that I needed to rest.
"I saved the best for last." He grinned wickedly. God, what was wrong with him? He's middle aged. He's not supposed to be this high. "You're going to love it! It has an 'en suite' and a comfy window seat and a huge wardrobe. I even got a decorator to properly decorate it with your favourite colour; navy blue." He was so bubbly at the moment it was comical and slightly disturbing. I just nodded along.
He opened the door on the end of the corridor next to yet another window – my room I guess. My bags were already there – Mark must've brought them up. I began looking around the room.
"SHIT!" I yelped.
Because the first thing I saw was not the huge wardrobe or the oversized vanity mirror or even my new laptop on my new desk next to my new queen sized bed. I yelped because the first thing I saw was a person – a guy definitely – sitting on my new window seat. He was gazing blankly out the huge window at the green forest outside the house and the tiny bit of the Olympic Range able to be seen above the trees. But that wasn't the biggest problem. The problem had something to do with the fact that my stepdad couldn't see him and I could. The problem had something to do with the fact that he was slightly glowing. You heard me. He had a spectral aura around him. OH, CRAP.
As far as I knew – and I knew far in these sorts of situations – this guy was a ghost.
Hey guys, I basically re-did somethings in the story and plan on fixing up other things.
So stay with me while I polish up other chapters.
tc
JayDay
