The Twilight Twenty-Five
Prompt #: 02
Pen name: stolenxsanity
Pairing: JasperxEdward
Rating: T

Photos for prompts can be found here:
community[dot]livejournal[dot]com/thetwilight25/13912[dot]html

For as far back as I could remember Tequila had been my poison of choice. While I preferred the high-end, top-shelf labels like Patron Silver or Cabo Wabo, I would settle for just about anything that was Made in Mexico. While most people wielded a cross and silver dagger where this particular hard liquor was concerned, spouting ridiculous reasons for their aversion to it, I treated it like the old friend it was. Tequila had gotten me through an array of rough patches and difficult moments in my life and, even now as I stood in the corner store staring at the variety offered, it was the only friend that I could trust to be there for me no matter what.

Reaching into my pocket, I fingered the three soiled bills – fifty dollars – that needed to last me for the next week and a half, at least. I knew that it was idiotic of me to even consider wasting any amount of it on drinking, but logic had flown out the window exactly three hours and twenty-two minutes prior, right along with my clothes and every other possession I owned. With a sigh, my free hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold, Especial and pulled it from the shelf. Mentally, I calculated the cost – sixteen dollars and ninety-nine cents – to determine how much I'd be left with after my purchase as I moved to the check-out counter.

The elderly woman at the register looked like one of those friendly types so I forced a smile as I approached but the action felt foreign and completely out of place given my mood. Setting the glass down delicately, I reached into my back pocket to retrieve my wallet and slid my ID out of the protective, plastic casing to hand over. I rarely, if ever, got carded anymore but there were still a handful of cashiers that weren't willing to take a chance, even if they'd sold to you before. Although it made sense – after all, they were only protecting themselves – it was still an annoyance at times. My fingers tapped out a broken rhythm on the counter as I waited for the woman – her name tag read Janice – to straighten her eye glasses and peer down at the card.

"Jasper, eh? That's an old-fashioned name if I've ever heard one. You must be named after your father or grandfather, huh?" she continued on, trying to make conversation but at the mention of my father, it was as if everything else had simply ceased to exist. All I could hear were the harsh insults that had been thrown my way, his voice cold and hard, and all I could see was the anger and disgust that had been painted all over his face, unmasked, when he'd walked into my room earlier in the day. He was supposed to have been at work, the house should have been empty. So when the door had swung open and slammed into the wall hard enough to leave a knob shaped hole behind it, I knew that something was wrong.

My father was a passionate, but rarely angry, man.

I'd stared at him wide-eyed and, for the first time in my life, fearful. My mother and sister had stood in the doorway behind him as he'd entered my space, fuming as he ripped posters from the walls before his steps carried him to my closet. Thankfully, it had been left opened that morning when I'd changed or I'm certain it would have been torn right from its track in his haste.

Blinking back the memories of all that had transpired earlier in the day, I met Janice's eyes and nodded in acknowledgment of her words. My fingers fumbled with the money as I handed it over, the hesitation apparent in the way my hand remained hanging in the air between us – shaking – once she'd taken it from me.

"Your change is thirty-two dollars and fifty-four cents," Janice stated as she counted it back to me, before placing the bottle in an inconspicuous brown paper bag and sliding it across the counter. "Don't you worry, son," she continued after a brief pause, her eyes narrowed as she eyed me almost knowingly. "Whatever it is that's got you down, it'll get better. Nothing lasts forever."

I barely managed to hold back my snort of laughter as I inclined my head in a slight nod before turning on my heel and walking out the door.

The sidewalks were crowded with mid-afternoon foot-traffic and my steps faltered as I reached the crosswalk at the end of the street. I had no idea where I was going, nowhere to go, really. While I'd kept my sexuality a secret from my family, not yet ready to tell them that their dreams of having grandchildren – at least any that were biologically related to them – were pointless and that the only thing I felt for all the girls that they'd tried to set me up with was friendship, I'd never imagined them to be so narrow minded about it, either.

"You're … gay," my father had stated, his tone laced with venom as he spat the word out as if it tasted foul on his tongue. "Jerry, from work, told me that he saw you and your … some guy, making out last week. I tried to tell him that he was wrong but you were sitting in your car – the vehicle that I bought – when it happened." His face had been bright red as his chest heaved up and down while he stared at me. "I didn't raise a faggot and I want you out of my house. Now!"

As I'd collected whatever I could carry on my person before leaving, I'd watched as he went through my wallet and removed the credit cards before taking both my cell phone and car keys and shoving them forcefully into his pocket. He'd left the room soon after without so much as a backward glance in my direction as he'd instructed me that I had exactly thirty minutes to leave the premises or he was calling the cops.

Another short, aggravated sigh escaped my mouth as I surveyed my surroundings. It wasn't that I didn't have any place to go or somewhere to crash while I figured everything out; I just had no way to get in touch with him now that my phone had been confiscated. Raking a hand through my hair, I spotted a guy nearby leaning against the brick wall behind him, a newly opened pack of cigarettes in his hand. The day really can't get any worse, I thought to myself as my feet carried me in his direction, ready to swallow my pride and ask if I could bum a smoke. That wasn't something that I'd had to do since I'd started smoking in high school and couldn't buy them myself.

I was grateful when, after asking, the man simply handed me one of the sticks from his pack without a word. After a barely audible "thank you," I'd strolled a little ways down the street, stopping in front of a pay phone and plucking two quarters from my pocket. As I lifted the phone, I recited his number back to myself in a whisper while I dropped the change into the slot before dialing. The phone rang shrilly in my ear and I prayed that he would answer – that he'd be able answer – the call even though it wasn't from a number he recognized. I counted the rings in my head, wanting to be able to hang up before it clicked over to the voicemail and I lost the fifty cents that it had cost to place the call in the first place.

"Edward Cullen," the voice on the other end answered just as I was about to disconnect. Unbidden, a smile flickered across my lips as I cleared my throat and turned so that my entire body faced the inside of the booth.

"Hey," I started, licking my lips as my free hand flexed around the unopened tequila bottle. "It's me, Jasper."

"Jazz?" I could hear the confusion in Edward's voice and I couldn't help but picture the way his eyebrows would furrow together as his head tilted to the side. "Where are you calling from … it's kind of loud there and this isn't your number."

Leaning my forehead against the cool metal frame of the phone booth, I exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm my somewhat frazzled nerves before responding. "I'm … well, around the corner from the liquor store near the theater. I," my words trailed off as I inhaled deeply before blowing the breath out. "I was wondering if – my dad kicked me out and I – I mean, he took my phone and my credit cards and my keys, too." Frustrated, I settled the phone between my shoulder and ear to hold it in place as I roughly ran my fingers through my hair before continuing. "I've only got like thirty dollars on me until I get paid, no clothes but what I was already wearing and a bottle of Jose that I wasted almost twenty on because I needed something to drink, something to take the edge off." Even though I knew what I wanted to ask, what I was trying to ask, the words wouldn't come out.

"What do you mean your dad kicked you out?" Edward asked. I could hear him shuffling around in the background as papers rustled. "What exactly happened?" The concern was evident in his tone as he spoke, and I felt my mouth opening and closing as I attempted to put into words what had happened.

Well, I thought to myself as the events replayed in my head, honesty is always the best policy. A sardonic chuckle escaped as I remembered the age old adage and I shook my head back and forth in an attempt to clear it. "My dad came home early from work today. I guess he'd called my mom and Rose on the way, or something, because they were all there." I spoke in a drab monotone, suddenly exhausted and frustrated and wanting nothing more than to find some place to sit and relax, even if only briefly. "He just – I guess one of his co-workers saw us last week, probably after we left the art show."

I lifted the phone from its perch as I straightened up once more, rolling my neck from side to side to loosen the tense muscles. "It wasn't exactly how I'd planned on coming out to them but, there's nothing that I can do about it now." I shrugged, the action completely unnecessary since I knew that Edward couldn't see me. "He wasn't exactly thrilled with the news, to be honest. I believe his exact words were," I paused and let my eyes fall closed for a moment as I battled back the emotions that threatened to overtake me. "Actually, I can't even bring myself to repeat them. Needless to say, I'm no longer welcome at ho – at their house."

Swallowing against the tirade that wanted to escape, I fell silent. It was a comfortable quiet, though, not unlike the moments that Edward and I had shared while physically in the same space. I knew him well enough to know that he was thinking, digesting what I'd just told him, and would need a moment or two before he'd be able to respond. While I waited, my gaze traveled back and forth along the street, taking in the sights. Everything that I could see from my vantage point were all places that I was familiar with, that I'd been to in the past. It was oddly comforting to be in a recognizable area. I could hear Edward as he mumbled under his breath on the other side of the line and I tore my attention away from the multitude of distractions, returning it to where it needed to be.

"Jesus, Jazz," a short sigh escaped his mouth and it took every ounce of willpower that I possessed not to imagine the perfect pout of his lips and the way that they felt against my own. "Are you … give me ten minutes and I'll pick you up. You said you're near the theater, right?"

Answering in the affirmative, we disconnected the call and I wandered back to the end of the street to wait near the crosswalk. Reaching the corner, I leaned against the lamppost, my eyes searching the streets for Edward even though I knew that there were still a few minutes before he would arrive. I was just more than ready for this entire day to be over with and looking forward to the calm and relaxing haven that Edward always provided. I had no idea of what was to come for me but I did know that, whatever it was, I could depend on Edward to help and stand by my side through it all.


Disclaimer: Twilight and any/all recognizable components belong to SMeyer.

A/N: Jasper and Edward. I swoon. No, really. I do. Anyway, here we have prompt two and, I think, it's pretty straight forward. Yes? Yes. Also, I hope it goes without saying that the views of Mr. Jasper's dad do not reflect my own. At all. I actually, literally, cringed when writing that bit. So, give me your thoughts. Likey? No likey? Let me know by pressing that there little ol' button below.

Lastly, lots of love and thanks, as always, to a few of my favorite ladies for helping me through this and pre-reading when necessary. Without them, I'd be nothing. Or something like that. vi0lentserenity, naelany, gypsysue: you ladies are simply awesome sauce. F'realz. I puffy heart you lots and lots. And, HUGE thanks to FarDareisMai2 for her last minute beta skillz; I really, really appreciate it, bb.