Chapter 9 - Lunch Lies
Every time he inhales throughout the remainder of gym class, Emmett gives you a befuddled, but speculative look. Each time you shrug it off, feigning ignorance.
Hey, Emmett's not the only one who can pretend to be oblivious and easily bemused.
As soon as class is dismissed, you hurry into the locker room and purchase some shampoo from the old-fashioned vending machine inside, grateful you happen to have exact change in your wallet. Grabbing one of the coarse, threadbare towels provided by the school and hopping quickly into one of the available shower stalls, you pull the curtain closed and undress in the tight space. You slather the sickeningly floral smelling shampoo all over your skin, paying particular attention to your neck area.
How could Jasper have forgotten about the smell issue? Surely he would have known Emmett would smell him all over me when he chose to lick me in the first place. I hope he has a good excuse for it too, because right now, I've got nothing. Nothing that would make his and my behavior sound even remotely acceptable, without mentioning the connection that seems to pulse between us.
You rinse multiple times, rubbing the skin with your hands, hoping to decrease any leftover chemical aromas from the perfumes in the shampoo. The extra time spent in the shower causes you to have to scurry to get dressed and race for your next class, Spanish 3. Jasper is waiting for you inside, saving you a seat right next to him.
He frowns and quietly demands, "Why did it take you so long to get here?"
"It was gym. I had to take a shower," you crossly retort, rolling your eyes and pulling out your pen and notebook.
You start copying down the vocabulary words written on the front board, while he leans in and deliberately sniffs you. After the first inhale, he stiffens and begins growling so lowly you can feel the vibrations through the air, but can't hear the sound associated with it.
"You washed away my scent!" he accuses, sounding deeply offended.
Your eyes flash to his, and you can see the hurt prominently displayed in the darkness there. Before you can explain, you see him tense with a pondering look on his face, as if tuning in to a radio frequency only he can hear. Guessing he's listening to one of his family members, you rapidly write: 'Sorry, Emmett asked me about having your scent on me, and I didn't know how to explain.'
He glances at the message, then nods and squeezes your hand in understanding. Watching you out of the corner of his eye, he whispers, "Were you oblivious to the way Edward lost control of himself this morning, Emmett? What is the only thing that will stop him mid-hunt? That's right, a threat, a need for self-preservation. The scent of another claiming his intended victim will either force him to become rational enough to make a conscious decision, or at the very least cause him to pause long enough for one of us to catch up and intervene."
At first, you are impressed with his logic. It does make sense. If Edward starts hunting me, Jasper's scent will tell him I've been claimed by another vampire. His instincts will then know that attacking me will lead to a fight with the vampire who's already claimed me for himself. Edward is most likely to either back down completely or at least investigate a little more, if he assumes I've been marked as dinner or as a pet for another.
Then your thought processes toss out another curve ball. Wait a minute. What if that's all that happened between us? What if he was only marking me for the sake of his family and preventing their exposure like he just said? What if he was playing with my emotions so I would allow him to do it? Or if he was overcome by MY emotions, such that my own lust, respect, and love reflected back onto me?
You shake your head, to rid yourself of your doubts. No, that can't be true. Otherwise, he wouldn't have warned me about not mentioning the connection between us and talked about our future. OUR future. Right? It wasn't just to hide his dalliance from Alice and the others, was it?
"Don't worry, Rose, I promise to be careful. Emmett was the one who called attention to it, remember?" he whispered again, bringing your wrist up to his mouth and leaving open-mouthed kisses on your pulse point. Keeping his volume just barely loud enough for you to hear sitting right next to him, he continues, "I'm not the one you need to fear ruining everything, guys. I'm not the one who attempted to attack, nor the one who knew it would happen and was disappointed it failed. Think about that, before you try to lecture me on inconspicuous behavior."
Whatever his siblings replied must have pleased him, as he was soon sporting a smug, satisfied grin. Using his hold on your wrist, he pulls you inexorably forward, until you are leaning diagonally across his lap, as if trying to reach something on the other side of him. Feeling his cool fingers slide under your t-shirt and along the skin of your lower back, you shiver involuntarily from the sensation and rapidly scan the room. Once again, not a single person is looking in your direction. The entire class is completely uninterested in anything occurring in the back corner of the room.
If he has the power to do this, why doesn't he use it to keep everyone from ogling and talking about the family? Another question to ask after school. Maybe I should start writing these down before I forget them.
Trusting Jasper to keep any potential audience at bay, you relax and enjoy his ministrations. He leisurely licks your neck, nibbling on your earlobe and along your jaw. He exhales several times into your hair, and you remember the odor wars between Edward and Jacob in Eclipse. Meanwhile, the hand under your shirt has made a slow, meandering path all over your back, massaging the tension from your muscles. You didn't even realize how tense you'd been until you feel how relaxed you are now.
You feel as floppy as a rag doll, with no desire to move from your current spot, unless it's to move even closer to Jasper. Straddling him would be nice, you think with a quiet moan.
"MINE!" Jasper breathes into your ear, so quietly you aren't even certain he said anything or if you simply imagined it.
When the bell rings, you realize you've spent the entire class period being fondled by Jasper without hearing a bit of what the teacher taught.
"Oh, shit!" You moan. "I didn't hear a word of that. I hope you were taking mental notes, because you're going to have to tutor me now, or else I'll fail. As a matter of fact, I'm liable to fail out of high school entirely if you keep distracting me like this."
Helping you stand and making sure your muscles are working again, he sends you amused reassurance. "I won't let you fail," he promises.
He gathers your things in addition to his own and offers you his arm to escort you to lunch.
"Great, now we'll be the center of attention for sure," you groan. "Unless you work your mojo again."
"That wouldn't be a good idea," he hesitantly admits. "We could always spend the lunch period talking in your truck . . ."
I'm starving, but I'd choose alone time with Jasper over food any time, you think, opening your mouth to agree. Unfortunately, your stomach chooses that moment to growl like a ferocious grizzly bear on the prowl for prey.
"Nevermind," he teases. "We'd best feed your inner beast before it decides to devour you from the inside out."
"Thanks," you grumble sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "You're so sweet."
"Who's sweet?" Emmett demands, turning the corner and pulling Rosalie along by the hand. His large ground-eating steps swallow up the distance between you in seconds.
"Jasper, of course. His pretty compliments are enough to turn a girl's head," you mutter sarcastically. Rose raises her eyebrows in question, but Emmett immediately becomes defensive.
"Is that so? Trying to turn my little sis's head, Jazzy? Aren't you in a long term relationship with my other sister?" he growls, grabbing your stuff out of Jasper's hands and adding it to the other two bags he's already carrying. He looks a little silly wearing three backpacks, but it doesn't bother him in the slightest. "Have you forgotten about your girlfriend? The love of your existence who brought you up out of the depths of depression, introduced you to our family, and showed you a whole new way to live? The name Alice ringing any bells there, Major?"
He wraps his massive arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from Jasper and into his side instead.
"No of course I haven't forgotten Alice," Jasper drawls in a bored tone, appearing a bit put out with Em's caveman behavior. "She'd never let me hear the end of it if I did." He sends you a quick jolt of apology and reassurance, while Emmett gives him a hard, accusatory look.
"Seriously, Em?" you chide irritably, sending a stream of understanding Jasper's way. "I was being sarcastic. He called me a hungry beast. That's hardly likely to have me swooning."
To accentuate your comments, your stomach growls fiercely again. It takes Emmet by surprise and distracts him from Jasper, at least for a little while.
"Damn, Sister Bear, you've been holding out on us!" He proclaims, looking down at your tummy with awe. "What kind of monster are you hiding in there?"
"Gee, I don't know," you mock. "Maybe it's an irritable grizzly, just awoken from hibernation. Careful! If you poke it, it might bite."
"Really?" he replies doubtfully. "I'm betting you'd react more like the Pillsbury Dough Boy if I poked your belly."
"Wow, Rose, you really got yourself a catch here. Is he always such a silver-tongued devil? He's got such a way with words," you drawl, sarcasm as thick as tar coating your voice. "He's likely to turn my head with his wit and charm, if you're not careful."
Rose snickers. "Well he does have a wickedly talented tongue, but not when he's using it for talking."
Emmett grins widely, showing off his dimples. "Now, now, sister. I know I'm virtually irresistible, but my body belongs exclusively to Rosie, so you're just going to have to find a way to keep from falling head over heels for me."
"Oh, dear, how ever will I manage?" you snark back. "Well, since I'd rather be called a hungry beast than a giggling dough boy, I guess I'll stick with Jasper for now."
You pull away from Emmett and walk in between the two boys without touching either of them. You can't help but notice Jasper's relief when you're no longer touching his brother and hope the others aren't as attuned to him as you've become.
"Sure, Jasper would make a great big brother too," Emmett agrees warningly. "I know he was raised to be a gentleman, just like I was. Right, Jasper?"
"Absolutely," Jasper returns smoothly. Emmett eyes him searchingly, then relaxes and is all smiles again.
The rest of lunch is spent getting to know one another without all the tension. Emmett seems to feel like he did his part in protecting you and making sure Jasper wasn't taking advantage of you with his gift or natural vampiric appeal.
Conversation is a tad bit stilted at first, until you ask what Edward's problem is. Rose quickly gets the conversational ball rolling, telling anecdotes to illustrate all the reasons he annoys the hell out of her. Emmett can't resist adding his own funny stories to the mix, and even Jasper chimes in with a few memories here or there.
All too soon time is up and the vampires gather their trays full of uneaten food together to throw away.
"That's so wasteful, conspicuously and ostentatiously so," you warn them, grabbing the fruit, chips, and unopened drinks off their trays to stuff in your backpack. "You really shouldn't buy food if you're not going to eat it, or at least take home what you don't eat. You should consider bringing lunch from home or spending this time somewhere other than the cafeteria, rather than openly wasting your money like this. Spending all this money on food, then throwing it away untouched is insulting and offensive to students for whom the free breakfast and lunch provided by the school are the only meals they eat."
"Chief Swan's not that poor," Rosalie huffs. "You don't need to horde food like a squirrel gather nuts for winter."
"I wasn't referring to myself, Rosalie," you scold.
"No, she's right," Jasper jumps in, eyebrows raised. "I never really thought about it, but there are those who notice and feel resentful about the amount we throw away."
"Yeah, there's a couple kids who usually visit the trash can shortly after we do. They gather around it, trying to cover up what they're doing, but I've seen them pull stuff out of there before and tuck it in their pockets or bags," Emmett admits.
"Really?" Rose asks, horrified and slightly disgusted. He nods guiltily.
"You know, some schools have a place where you can put untouched foods, like whole fresh fruit, and unopened containers, like milk and juice cartons. The school can't accept that food back to sell again, but they can make it available for other students to take home, rather than throwing it all away. Some kids invariably want to share or trade parts of their lunches. This makes the swapping available to everyone, not just close friends."
"That's a good idea," Rose comments slowly, looking impressed. "Not difficult to implement either."
They stand to leave, and you frown. "I feel a bit guilty about taking all this food, now that I know there are hungry students who have come to rely upon it. I think I'll just set it on top of the table for now, so it can be clean when they come to claim it."
You quickly pull all the items back out of your bag and put them in a pile at the end of the table. Jasper snags your bag and offers to escort you to your next class.
"I've got Photography next," you murmur, taking his arm and delighting in his close proximity.
"Oh, Photography? That should be a familiar path for you, Jasper. Doesn't Alice have that class next too?" Emmett stresses, clearly unhappy with the amount of attention Jasper is showing you and your reaction to it.
Is he reminding Jasper or me that Jay is otherwise committed? You wonder. My feelings are likely written all over my face and shining through my eyes, so probably me. He doesn't want me to get my heart broken by falling in love with a married man, and he's got a good point. I need to hold myself back from so eagerly following my heart, until I'm certain he's no longer with the controlling, manipulative witch.
I refuse to demean myself by becoming the other woman, and I've already crossed the line of acceptability multiple times today. If I were in Alice's shoes, and I found out my mate was licking and nibbling another girl's face and neck, I'd rip his balls off and toss them over the treaty line to become play toys for the wolves. I wouldn't be happy with the other girl, but the true offender would be my mate, and my wrath would be directed accordingly. I guess I shouldn't judge Alice so harshly without knowing the full story of their relationship, since I'm not sure I'd act any better than she did.
Jasper led you unerringly to the correct classroom while you were lost in thought. You give him a troubled smile as you take your bag, then enter the room without a word or a wave goodbye.
Photography passes by quickly, and you sincerely enjoy it, except for the knowledge that Alice would be in this class with you as of tomorrow and would even be sitting right next to you, sharing a computer with you. It doesn't escape your notice that the seat beside you is the only empty one in the room. The teacher mentions a partner project, and you internally groan.
Great. Just what I need.
You find you're starting to miss Jasper and hope he's in your last class with you, though your anticipation is already building for your after school meeting.
What's going to happen when there are no witnesses and no interruptions to stop us? No! Remember, clear up the matter of the evil soon-to-be ex first, you remind yourself.
You stop by your locker to drop off the books you don't need and pick up your binder for math. Finding your own way to class this time, you are pleasantly surprised to see both Jasper and Rosalie in the class, with a seat saved in between them.
With Rose watching his every move, Jasper is much more circumspect in his greeting and subsequent behavior. You start feeling grumpy that Jasper is so close, yet still untouchable, unreachable, and unattainable. He sends you some patience, which curls and twines around you like a cat. You peer at him, startled and intrigued.
There's a new emotion. I don't remember Meyer mentioning that one. I can't imagine why not. It seems like a particularly useful one. I wonder how often he's used it with Alice and Emmett.
The first half of Math class is spent going over last night's homework and discussing the most commonly missed problems. Luckily, it seems fairly straightforward to you. You decide to get a head start on the homework listed on the board, rather than paying attention and taking notes, figuring the example problems in the book will tell you everything you need to know. You get started working diligently, hoping to finish before class ends, so you can leave your heavy math book at school, instead of carting it home and back.
You turn the page in your notebook and pause in dread and abhorrence as you stare at the drawing you just uncovered. It is an artistically rendered scene of torture.
A girl is chained to a rock, her clothes tattered, covered in scratches and bruises. Insulting words have been carved and branded onto her exposed skin. Worse, she has been eviscerated, disemboweled, but is clearly still conscious and aware, even with her guts oozing out of the wound, blood dripping from the trailing intestines. All around her are birds of prey feasting on bits and pieces they've pecked from her entrails. It is reminiscent of the torture proscribed for Prometheus by Zeus. Studying the face etched with agony, misery, fear, and affliction, you know the victim depicted is unequivocally you. The level of talent and attention to detail indicate an inhuman artist, and the caption points the finger at Alice. It reads: Such is the welcome for home-wrecking whores.
Your blood runs cold in your body as you soak in the threat she's made against you. Issuing a mere whimper of mournful lament, you slam the notebook closed again, catching the attention of your seatmates. They promptly attempt to find out what is causing your current despondent mood and expression.
You point to the notebook, and both of them growl after seeing the picture.
"How dare she?" Jasper snarls. "She's gone too far!"
"Who would do this?" Rose demands, leaning forward to sniff the paper. It makes you curious to want to sniff the paper too, but you resist, knowing you won't be able to detect the same kinds of things they could. Her eyes widen in befuddlement. "Alice?"
Her eyes meet Jasper, and the two of them seem to have a nonverbal discussion, using only their eyes.
"This isn't good," Rose finally declares after a minute or two. "She's going off the deep end. Insane people are highly unstable and unpredictable. We need to warn Carlisle. There's no telling what she may do. Earlier today, I would've told you she'd never do something like this, so she's clearly acting out of character for herself."
You desperately wish for Jasper to comfort you by holding you close and behaving intimately, like he'd done before, but for whatever reason, he couldn't do that in front of Rose. You struggle just to make it through class and are out of your seat the second the bell rings.
Racing through the hallways, you bypass your locker and head straight for reception.
Dashing into the front office, you interrupt the secretary by flinging down the paper you had signed by all your teachers and slapping the counter in frustration, before emphatically declaring, "Mrs. Cope, I'm really not interested in photography class after all. Are there any other electives available fifth period?"
Mrs. Cope frowns at you, displeased that you are making more work for her. "We already changed your schedule once, rearranging every single class for you. You need to learn to accept a little bad with the good. You aren't the only student at this school, you know. The world, the school, and this office don't revolve around you, young lady. You can't just change everything around every time something happens that you don't like."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cope, really I am. I know you're extremely busy, and I apologize for monopolizing your time like this. I realize you have a life outside this school and have other things to do. I'm desperate, Mrs. Cope and begging for a favor. Please help me, out of the goodness of your heart, even if I don't deserve it. I don't care which class I take, as long as it's not that one. This one girl has taken a strange dislike to me, for no apparent reason, and has threatened me. I think she really means to do me harm, and I'm terrified! I didn't do anything to her, I swear, but I think my dad may have arrested her dad or given her a speeding ticket or something, because she hates me. I didn't even say anything to her other than 'hello'."
Mrs. Cope is staring at you open-mouthed. "Who was it?"
"I-I don't want to say, just in case. Maybe she was having a bad day or something. I really don't want to get her in trouble and give her another reason to hate me. I just want to get out of her way. It's the only class we have together, so it should be easy to avoid her from now on if I change classes. I'll even take Differential Calculus as an elective -whatever it takes. Maybe I could volunteer to help out in the office during that time period as a kind of internship. I'd be happy to stuff envelopes, fill mailboxes, deliver messages, make copies, and file things. That would help you and help me at the same time. Please, Mrs. Cope?" You give her your best puppy eyes, pleading with your entire body language as well as your words. She softens dramatically with your little speech.
"Oh! I can see where being the daughter of the Chief could be problematic with those who get on the wrong side of the law," she replies sympathetically. "It's not fair to take it out on you, but some people don't care what's right. They only want revenge, no matter who gets hurt in the process."
Attacking the issue with the mindset of saving a student from being unfairly bullied by another gives her an entirely different attitude from when she believed you were just being a self-centered, spoiled brat, looking for special treatment. She starts typing on her computer with determined concentration. Her tongue pokes out of the corner of her mouth as she focuses, making you smile and try to relax a bit from your near terror and panic. You feel a wave of calm wash over you, then hear the office door open and close.
Your whole body starts feeling like there's a big balloon floating behind you that's carrying a hefty static charge, like when you rub a balloon on your sweater and then hold it up above your head and your hair stands up as if magnetically attracted to the balloon. In this case, it feels as if all your surface cells are trying to pull you toward the newest occupant of the room, letting you know it's Jasper.
Is this the buzzing electricity Meyer was trying to describe between Edward and Bella in Biology when the movie was playing? I do have an overwhelming urge to reach out and grab him, to make skin-to-skin contact with him.
To your relief, Jasper takes another step forward and slips the tips of his fingers under your shirt. The electric charge immediately settles and warmth spreads through your muscles instead, as if you curled up under a warm blanket fresh from the dryer.
Mrs. Cope taps the pen against her lips and sighs. "I don't know, sweetie. Every class I've checked so far is full. There's no easy way to find out which class has open spots for fifth period. Our database isn't arranged that way."
"Our Forensics class could use another person," Jasper supplies helpfully.
"Oh! Mr. Hale! I didn't see you enter," she gasps, her hand going up over her heart and her cheeks flushing. Interestingly enough, she is much more nervous around Jasper than she apparently was around Edward. She doesn't look at him with bedroom eyes. Instead, her eyes are wary as she takes in his presence. You feel another wave of calm and see her visibly relax and give you both a real smile
"Forensics?" you ask. "As in debate, or as in forensic science?"
Jasper smiles. "As in debate. You have to wait for college to study forensic science, though that would be incredibly interesting."
Mrs. Cope begins tapping on her keyboard and gives a brief celebratory shout. "Got it! Well, if you'd like Isabella, I can switch you to Forensics?"
"Yes, please!" you eagerly agree. She nods and begins the process of entering the information into the computer.
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Cope," you declare, relief saturating your tone. "You're a lifesaver!"
"You're welcome, dear. Here's your new schedule," she answers, beaming proudly.
"Wonderful! Thanks again!" you tell her. "Have a good evening!"
"You too!" She calls after you. As the door closes, you hear her remark to herself. "What a polite young lady."