Disclaimer: We own this not. We do, however, own pictures of a hottie-on-a-punt which I took on Tuesday when I wandered off to Cambridge…

Onto the chapter? Ah Oui!


Chapter 1 - JPOV

As per usual, I hit the alarm beside my bed with too much force and groaned as it fell onto the floor in pieces. Sitting up and wondering why I had set my alarm so early, I grinned as I realised I'd booked the day off to chill before the gig tonight.

What to do? I had a few bits of coursework that I needed to get done. I could always head outside and sit on the quad, music in my ears. Bliss. I headed into the bathroom for a shower.

Once I was done, I grabbed my bag and my guitar. The warmth of the September sun helped to stop the soft wind make me feel too cold. I headed over to one of the picnic tables and pulled my stuff out and spread it around me.

I must have been sat there for a few hours, my toes tapping away to my iPod as I scribbled relentlessly to the beat. I'd recently discovered a new band online. 100Monkeys' music was catchy and the singer's voice could portray almost any emotion. I'd put their album Grape on repeat and let the music surround me.

My assignment on Global Music Culture was finished, all I needed to do was get it typed up and hand it in. I checked my diary, and because I was up to date, I decided to dump my stuff back in my room and head over to the SU for lunch and see who was around.

The bar was fairly quiet so I managed to get onto one of the rough and ready leather sofas, propping my guitar against it and hurrying to grab my food and a coffee. I sank into the sofa and attacked the tasteless food. It did what I needed it to do, fill the hole.

I sat back, full to bursting, and pulled a well worn paperback out of my guitar case, reading while I drank my coffee. Ever since my dad had introduced me to the classics, I'd been addicted. I was currently re-reading Frankenstein for about the hundredth time. I was a voracious reader, and would even read the back of the ketchup bottle if there was nothing else about.

"Hey, dude." A loud voice pulled me out of my little bubble. A huge, tanned mountain of a man was grinning at me like a Cheshire cat. Did I know him? Maybe I'd punted him and he remembered me. I watched as he folded himself onto the sofa opposite me and put a huge plate full of chicken and pasta on the table.

"Er, hey." I flicked through memories of boat trips, he wasn't among them. I was sure I'd remember him, he was fucking huge!

"Gig still on tonight?" He indicated my guitar as he shovelled the pure carbohydrate into his mouth. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd eaten the actual plate.

"Yeah, as far as I know." I knew I was staring at him, but I couldn't stop. He was huge, and the way he was eating was practically mesmerizing. Why in the hell did he care about the gig?

"Well, we'll be there, and then Emmett says you have to come to the team meeting tomorrow. Then, we'll sort out your date with Pixie Sticks." Team meet? Date? What was this bloke on about? And I really wished he wouldn't eat with his mouth open. Then it hit me, the memory of the freezing cold water of the Cam soaking me head to toe. He must have been one of the Rowers. One of those hulking guys I saw training on the river. Pixie Sticks was Mary-Alice.

"Great, er… What was your name again?" I asked, racking my brains.

"I'm Embry, Embry Call. Emmett's second. The meet's at three, will you be all recovered by then?" His dropped his fork onto his empty plate. I had truly never seen someone eat so much food so quickly.

"Yeah, should be ok, the gig finishes at ten so I'll be good."

What was I letting myself in for?

I watched the heavy duty dude wander off; narrowly avoiding the pool table and the skinny idiot that attempted to hit him hard with the cue before he could squeeze past them. Idiot. I couldn't help wondering where Mary-Alice fit into this, the tiny girl who looked as though she weighed about four-stone soaking wet, and was nicknamed 'Pixie', by pretty much all of the mountain men she knew. Did she have a thing for big men? They say opposites attract… If so, where would I fit in? I was no where near as huge as Emmett or Embry. Yeah, I was tall, but long days in the studio working on compositions and evening locked away in my room or gigging had left me pretty weedy. The only exercise I seemed to get was at work. Pushing those poles were a good workout, and using them to punt fat Americans up and down the river soon brought me out into a sweat.

Sighing, once again, and rolling my eyes to the point where I was sure I had strained some kind of optical nerve. I'd have to ask Edward about that later on – he knew about everything medical and was some kind of freaky genius at it, unfortunately for us.

Glancing up at the clock and looking over at the now filling bar, I decided that I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, before returning with the guys for the gig. I wasn't exactly sure where I was headed. Instead, I let my feet follow the road, and found myself stumbling out of town and into the botanic gardens with my guitar, keeping my head down and pretending that I actually had a purpose here. Quickly, I found myself a seat on one of the smaller lawns, wishing I had a blanket or something so I could look as though I hadn't come alone, though, obviously, I didn't, and I felt like a complete loser.

"Hey!" A small, familiar voice called out to me, and I turned around, feeling my face heat up, "You can't sit on the grass!" Still staring around for the origin of the voice, I found my eyes settling on the rather large sign that had, in glaring block capitals "KEEP OFF THE GRASS" written across it.

"Damn! I'm sorry!" I yelled out, "I'll… where are you?" I wheeled around again as I rose, looking for the source of the voice. There was a rustle in the bushes, and I glanced that way, seeing a very tiny, gorgeous, pixie-like woman standing on the mulch, wearing wellington boots and gardening gloves that went almost to her knees and elbows respectively.

"Jasper." She gasped, staring at me as though she had never seen a boy holding a guitar before. "I-I didn't know you came here."

"I…" I shook my head, "Mary-Alice." I managed to stumble over my words as the tiny girl picked her way carefully toward me, her eyes flickering between the grass at her feet and my face as she stepped.

"Call me Alice." She chirped, "Only people that hate me call me Mary." A momentary flash of pain crossed her face and she stumbled, my hands immediately abandoning my guitar to its strap, and catching her.

"You okay?" She nodded, and I raised an eyebrow at her.

"I need to get new boots; these are borrowed from my friend." I looked at her, she raised her eyebrow back at me, smirking lightly, "Mine ripped at practice last week – the Cam's banks are dangerous when you're not looking where you're placing your feet."

I looked at her blankly and she let out a laugh that was ridiculously high pitched and made her look absolutely insane. I couldn't help but laugh with her although every part of me was questioning exactly what was funny.

"You know, you look like you could use a drink." Smiling, and still calming from her giggles, she held her hand out to me and the guitar, and as I took it, twirling her in circles and making her laugh again, I wondered exactly what kind of parallel universe I had stumbled into.


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