A/N: Okay, so I'm still playing with this story so things might unfold very slowly before we even address the prologue - just a forewarning. But then again, it could just happen in the next chapter, who knows? The long and short of it, I have no definite structure as to where this will go, (and thats' how I roll anyway). I'm writing by the week as we speak. I do hope though to play with the characters more than I have had a chance with them in Tripod. So if you can, please bear with me. If you've got any questions, feel free to ask or even give your own thoughts! I'm always open to them. And to everyone who has reviewed, thanks so much. I so appreciate it.

Disclaimer: SM owns original names. I'm borrowing for the sake of my own deranged imagination.

New Kid on the Block

Jasper POV

What am I doing here?

Looking up towards the sky, my brows furrowed instantly to find the morning sun hidden behind gigantic clusters of clouds, all grey and grim and pregnant with moisture. It was going to rain.

Even the weather matched my feelings today.

For the umpteenth time since I boarded the plane at JFK, another hopeless sigh escaped me.

Why I promised mom that I would come here, beats the hell out of me now. I should have just gone to stay with Uncle Aro and Jane and Alex.

My shoulders felt heavy. My legs felt heavy. But I was here. The decision was made regardless.

Man up my boy.

She used to tell me all the time. I'd never hear her say those words again.

Don't think of it.

Stop.

Steeling my still tender heart silently, I pulled the bulky suitcases behind me and trudged up the elegant driveway towards the mansion ahead. My new home. Only temporary.

The Cullens.

Somewhere behind that massive door and structure of timber, metal and concrete was the man who, for 17 long years didn't even exist in my life, until mom told me about him, and that she wanted me to move in with his family.

My father, the asshole.

I wished I had never agreed to this. Just the thought of meeting this man made my teeth grate. I had never seen him, barely heard anything about him all these years growing up. It didn't matter, and it wouldn't have mattered if I never knew of him. I was pretty fucking sure my life would carry on, even if…

even if I was now alone in this world.

God, I miss you so much mom..

On cue, I felt my eyes water at the thought. No matter how much I tried to keep them at bay, sometimes it was near fucking impossible. No sooner than a thought, a memory , an image of her entered my mind, the ever present wound in my chest would start throbbing, and soon enough I'd feel the tell tale glazing would start. Granted it had only been 3 weeks, but still, I was a teen on the cusp of adulthood, not a 10 year old. The only times the stupid tears would get the better of me was when I was asleep. I'd grown tired of waking up to find my pillows wet from a night of crying in my sleep. Mom raised me to be a man, not a sissy.

"Jasper, the worst you can do is bottle up your feelings inside you. You're still grieving for your mother boy, it's a natural process."

"I'm not weak..."

"Weak? How can you think like that? If anything tears are a sign of strength. It worries me that I haven't even seen you cry once.."

Strength.

I wish I had the strength to just turn away from my promise, and run away to Italy to live with the Volturis. Uncle Aro, and his kids Jane and Alex had been part of my family for years.

"They're your family…"

"The Volturis are more my family than those Covens!"

"Cullens…"

"Mom… I don't even know them, they don't even know me.. They might not even want me.."

Mom persisted. For as long as she was coherent, she fought for this. Begged me.

"Please my angel... I'll be at peace knowing you're not alone…please?"

The smile on her face when I finally relented…

Here I am mom. For you.

Steeling the mixed wave of emotion churning inside me, I reached for the brass metal to knock but the heavy door suddenly opened before me, and I almost stumbled back on my step.

It was her.

The lady who came to visit mom a month before she died.

"Jasper?...you're here!" She exclaimed, looking very surprised. I saw a set of keys dangling on her elegant, slim fingers – slim and beautiful, not unlike mom's own hands.

"Uhh… surprise.." I muttered, running my own digits through my tied back hair.

" I thought your flight was only scheduled to arrive in …"

I chewed my lips when those brown brows knitted fractionally as she looked at her watch. Gold, Rolex. Rich.

I don't belong here mom. I don't belong here.

I threw her a guilty smile. Guilty because I intentionally gave her the wrong details, just ..in case… I wanted to make a run for it. Only I was too chicken shit to do so and ended up getting into a cab to drive me all the way here.

"Sorry.. I guess.. the flight left early." I mumbled.

When does a flight ever leave early in the history of mankind dude?

It was a stupid excuse that even a dumb person could tell it was bullshit. Could I get any lamer than this? Between blushing and feeling guilty, I wondered if she was going to get annoyed with me now for lying to her and well..popping up in front of her house unscheduled.

I didn't get to ponder on it. Her face lit up and I was engulfed in a heady mix of fresh perfume as slender arms wrapped themselves around me.

"I'm so glad you're finally here Jasper. I was worried you might've have changed your mind,"

I still wish I can.

I smirked. If she only knew.

When she pulled back, I saw a hint of tears pooling at the rim of her almond shaped eyes. I hadn't expected that.

"I'm really glad you're here.. even if .."

She looked like she wanted to say something but halfway changed her mind. The sadness I caught on her face and eyes disappeared almost too quickly.

"… even if by surprise," she said softly instead, an easy smile on her lips, and teasing in her voice. On the way here, I'd sworn to myself I wouldn't give in to any of the Cullens' charms whatsoever, especially not that man who was not my father. And yet, barely through the front door, Esme had managed to draw a tiny smile on my face.

Not fair.

-0-0-0-

I followed after her into the mansion that was to be my new temporary home.

This place was a fucking palace compared to our modest two bedroom loft apartment.

Growing up as an only child of a relatively successful painter in Brooklyn, mom never made me feel want for anything when I was growing up. For as long as I could remember, I always had decent clothes on and toys to play with, whoIesome food on the table to eat. If ever I wanted me a pair of branded shoes or something, I knew intrinsically that she would never refuse me. That said, we've always lived a life of modest luxury – call it that. Many times, I've had to earn my pocket money by doing chores for her or one of our more elderly neighbours – even though I knew she could clearly afford parting with what I'd call pocket change for her. But that was mom, she was pretty grounded for someone the neighbors sometimes called airy fairy – because she was pretty bohemian in her outlook on life. And the way she dressed. She was always raiding thrift shops looking for old fabrics and clothes. Vintage she called them. Vintage schmintage. They were run me downs as far as I could tell. Second hand, unwanted items people sold for extra bucks. This was one of those areas we agreed to disagree. She called me 'misplaced manhattan' for my materialistic taste for normal store clothes. Could anyone blame me I was a little hypochondriac about wearing someone else's giveaway clothes? Even worse someone who died? In some cultures, wearing a dead person's clothes is bad omen – just sayin. Sometimes I'd get away with my 'materialistic' demands – thankfully I was blessed with a pretty dangerous dimple on my left cheek that mom, and well, half of the woman population in the suburb I lived found hard to resist. I wasn't ashamed to use my weapon to my advantage. But even with my so called misplaced manhattan tastes, I was no where near the likes of these Rolex wearing heavies.

Again, how she thought this was going to work out for me, I'd never fucking understand. This was far removed to what I was used to. At least with Uncle Aro and his family, I'd be living the life I was already accustomed to. Modest. Nondescript ,Easy.

She took me from room to room. The town might be a forgotten dot on the great American map, but in here, I could just as well be in one of the expensive homes – penthouses in Upper East Side. Everything, actually – nothing here looked second hand at all. I'd be afraid to touch anything in case I broke or damaged them accidentally.

Shit. I should have hightailed out of this place when I got the chance!

"And this here will be your room,"

We finally came to a halt in the room at the end of the passage on the third floor. There were only two other doors here and one was the shared bathroom. The other belonged to Esme's son – Edward. Same age as me. A few months younger. I wondered if he looked anything like her. Or would he look more like his dad?

" This was used as Edward's music room but I've had it redecorated when.. "

Our eyes met at her trailing silence. The brown irises softened, blurred a little even. I wanted to tell her it was okay, that she didn't have to feel sorry for me, but for some reason she looked like how I had been feeling in recent times.

It was only after I'd done it that I realized I had reached out and squeezed her forearm. I made to pull it away the moment I noticed, but she was quicker. Her soft hand was on top of mine and she patted me like any mother would. Something inside me fluttered.

"Well… I've had it redecorated. I hope you like the color?"

Another automatic smile. I couldn't help it. She'd painted the room in the exact color I had in my old room, indigo blue. Clearly Esme took notes when she was over for that visit. And not just cliff notes. Even the furniture looked very familiar. For a second I thought I could easily imagine myself being back at home in Brooklyn again. I just had to ignore the double volume space in this room.

"… I do.. It's the same color scheme I had back at home. It's very thoughtful of you Esme…I..uh thank you for all the trouble. I hope Edward didn't mind too much that I took his music room away though? " I responded, half heartedly trying to attempt a conversation for all her effort. The same smile that graced her when she first appeared from behind the front door lighted her beautiful face once more.

"He did sulk a little bit, but don't you worry about it, there's plenty space downstair for his baby," she chuckled. She must be refering to the baby grand sitting in the corner in the spacious lounge area.

I smiled at the little piece of information she'd just parted with. A little piece of me reveled in the fact that maybe I'd made a little enemy of Edward already.

It would be hard to carry on with the idea of hating this place if everyone was as sweet and warm as Esme.

Actually it would fucking close to impossible to keep that idea ingrained in my head if everyone was like her.

She already reminded me too much of my mother. That alone was enough to make the gaping hole in my chest start weeping again.

How could you think this was going to be good for me mom?

-0-0-0-

" Well, we weren't expecting you until much later, so you'll only meet Edward and your fath.."

"He's not my father."

It was rude of me to just cut in while she was busy talking, but the thought of hearing those words made me want to snap. Even at her.

"Jasper.."

" If anyone was my father, it was my mom. And no one's ever going to replace what she's been to me all this years. Just because she's gone.."

Mom raised you to be a gentleman Jasper!

She looked absolutely frazzled by my words. Guilt seeped through me like water through muslin. My mother would have given me the death look by now for my behavior.

"Esme…I'm so sorry.. I... I.. shouldn't have snapped at you like that.." I babbled.

" It's just…"

"Evelyn was everything to you. I know sweetheart. I meant no disrespect.."

I wanted to run. Hide. The throb in my chest had started again, and getting louder and harder bythe second. I knew what was coming next.

Why did she have to die?

Why did she have to leave me all alone like this?

Don't. Cry.

"Oh Jasper,"

Before I could even utter another word, she had practically folded me into her arms. And it was too familiar – the act, the touch, the tenderness of it all – there was nothing else I could do but fall apart.

A/N: Any ideas who Esme is in relation to Eve? Please give me some lovin' and review...