Yes, Sophie, I am alive! Everyone: this chapter is written choppily on purpose. Please do not skim the chapter; you miss out on so many important little details. Read on!!! =D

Intox 26

That night Carlisle told me he had filled my prescription and portioned some out for the school nurse to administer in the mornings. Just to be sure I actually took them. I nodded, declined dinner, and went to speak with Edward before bed.

Tuesday started a new routine for me. Before school started I had to check in with the nurse, who gave me a sympathetic look as she handed me two pills. I swallowed them quickly and submitted to her checking my mouth. I was too happy at the thought of pills to object to it.

Whatever effect the medicine was supposed to have on me did not work. As morning progressed I felt no different; my nerves were still shot, my hands still shook, and my anxiety almost bled from my veins. My fingers tapped restlessly through morning classes despite how hard I tried to focus on the lessons. My consolation was that I had enough appetite to actually eat lunch.

In Biology we took notes and watched the beginning of a documentary on the Galapagos Islands. Bella and I exchanged notes throughout, arranging for another study session at her house. If she paid attention to my twitchiness, she said nothing.

Instead of getting a ride from Edward, I rode with Bella. Surprisingly, we played a continuation of the 20 Questions that had begun on Saturday, though neither of us brought up the incident. I almost turned crimson at the thought of climbing into a lady's room – Bella's room – around midnight… and staying the night. It was embarrassing. It was inappropriate. It was not something I would be admitting any time soon.

"Okay, Question Five," Bella said as we pulled into her driveway and she parked. "What is your favorite color?"

Stupid question; I don't have one. "Brown," I answered promptly before catching myself. I opened the door and hopped out of the truck before she could question me further. My ears were warm.

The driver's side door swung shut with a violent creak. Bella appeared around the corner lugging her heavy backpack. I lifted it from her strained grip so she could unlock the house and carried it inside for her. When she turned to take it back, she tripped; I caught her, and for a moment there was only the sound of our breath mixing in the thin space between us.

I straightened first, setting her back on her feet with a thin laugh. She stumbled forward; I almost caught her again but stopped short as she righted her footing. Clumsy. I kicked off my shoes on the mud mat and made for the kitchen table.

"So… what is your favorite color, Bella?" I plunked our book bags down on the tabletop and searched for a water glass.

Bella elbowed me aside, her face bright red, and opened the cabinet drawer above the ones I had been ransacking. "I usually know for sure," she mumbled, "but right now I'm caught between blue and green." She handed me a glass.

"Why not blue-green?" I suggested, filling my glass at the sink across the small kitchen. I tried not to look because she was so embarrassed by the question. It was too personal for her.

"Hazel?"

"Yeah." I returned to my seat at the table and watched her curiously.

"That is an idea," she mused. She bit her bottom lip in deliberation. We both waited in silence for her to come to some decision; it seemed like a pivotal moment but the answer never came. Instead, Bella pulled the textbook out of her bag and opened it with a thunk.

We studied. It was a more traditional session, with her and I actually going over notes and highlighting. Well, she had already done most of this. Bella let me know after forty minutes that she needed to drive me home early because she needed to make dinner. It embarrassed her, but I understood why her father would not want me here; if I was a father, I would not like someone like me either.

Wednesday. It was already feeling like the same shit but a different day. Call me crazy, but I think my insomnia had gotten worse; I paced anxiously the night before, debating whether or not I should find a sharp object to rub my arms against, before falling into an uneasy sleep. My dreams were nightmares. My nightmares were hideous. I woke in a cold sweat, tears shining in my eyes.

That morning I was hungry but could not bring myself to eat. I snapped at Esme when she asked me if I wanted anything then felt horrible that I had actually spoken like that. I forced myself to apologize before she cried – because she looked about ready to – and to take a cup of tea. Edward watched me with contempt, Alice with empty eyes. The spoon clattered against the ceramic cup while I stirred until I dropped it to the counter and sat down in my corner.

School was intolerable. I was too cold and too energetic to sit at desks all day; I told my teacher so and was sent to the office for lunch, where I foot-tapped until I was allowed to go to Biology.

Seeing Bella did bring a smile to my face, so I cannot fully complain. We watched the stupid environmentalist movie the rest of the way, but I felt the familiar presence of a connection between us like electricity. It crackled in the air between us like a pleasant static charge; I wanted to test it but was afraid that it was volatile. Our personalities were made to clash, I reasoned, so why not our energies as well?

I had not expected Bella to offer her tutoring services again, but she did. I accepted. We talked about movies, weather, climate change, M.A.S.H., television shows and books before settling into actually study. I opened my book and read what Bella told me to while she ambled about the kitchen, pulling ingredients from the cupboards. Despite our pretenses toward amiability, the atmosphere was tense. I could not concentrate under the situation. Did she want me here? She didn't yesterday. Do I leave? Do I help?

"Bella, what do I do here?" I slammed my book shut with a frustrated growl.

She hurried over and looked at her book. I watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear with the palm of her hand; she frowned in concentration then noticed me watching her and looked up.

"It's just memorization, I guess," she said with a shrug. "I don't know."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I don't care about the functions of eukaryotes, Bella. I can't study this – fuck it." I sighed and dismissed the work with a wave. "I'm sorry for the language. Do you want help cooking? I can't study like this… while you're doing work and I'm being a useless fuck."

Bella snorted back a laugh when I apologized again. "I'm not scandalized by foul language," she said dryly. "Most people our age do curse."

Not around ladies, I thought. I tried to curb my tongue around women because, while they had equally foul mouths now, I still held on to some old traditions. Yeah, call me a gentleman.

"You don't mind helping me cook?"

"Hell no!" I actually relished the idea of being active.

She smiled. "Okay then… I'm just not used to help; Charlie can't cook to save his life so I don't let him in this room."

"I'll try at least," I said and hopped to my feet. Never before had I realized that Bella was half a foot shorter than me.

"And you're going to stay for the enchiladas, right?"

"Am I allowed?" In light of "Charlie's" opinion of me, her suggestion seemed brazen.

Bella stopped what she was doing and turned to me, her expression unreadable. After a moment, she said, "What makes you think you aren't allowed here?"

My hackles were raised by her accusatory tone. "I'm just saying that I'm not a police favorite, okay?"

Her eyes narrowed. Were her eyes tearing up? "Is that all you think of him as? A cop, not my father?"

I opened my mouth to explain but she cut me off. "No, Jasper, that is bullshit!" she thrust a pointed finger at me. "Everyone else thinks of me as the cop's daughter. I don't get invited to parties, campfires, or general social functions because I'm a cop's daughter; you don't have the right to use that as an excuse to leave!"

"What the fuck makes you think I don't want to be here?" I snapped, my voice close to shouting; I forced myself to take a breath before continuing quietly. "Your dad doesn't like me, Bella. I'm trying not to cause trouble. Maybe… maybe I should just go."

"No, no," she said. "Don't do that. Stay. I need some help making dinner."

I nodded and agreed. "Christ! I need a cigarette," I laughed.

I excused myself from the kitchen and pulled my squashed pack of cigarettes from my pocket as I headed for their small porch. As I smoked, I studied the cast iron railing and worn porch swing, skimming my fingers over the surfaces. The smoke was a haze around my face as I smoked; I could feel the flaking paint on the rails, the flecks of rust beginning to show through, and the smooth portions that had escaped the elements thus far.

This house had history. Then again, everything had history – even me. I was a new arrival in this house's lifeline, and the short story of me would be told through the fading tracks of mud across the boards, the hovering scent of tobacco in the recesses of the porch, the ashes where I snuffed my butts. I was erasable, if necessary. Utterly erasable.

With a smile, I put out my cigarette and returned to Bella.

The rest of the day had no consequence. On Thursday my nerves reached a new level of stress that I had not known existed; I was skittish, nervous, and angry. Cigarettes were worthless, unable to quell what had been fixable even on my first week of withdrawal, but I smoked every one I had anyway. School was worthless, studying had no potential but I went to Bella's anyway and proceeded not to study for three hours, making plans for Saturday's excursion into Seattle. Bella and I exchanged phone numbers and hashed out a definite plan.

There was some sense that I needed to pass this exam or fail, but I could not study. I began to understand the futility of it by Thursday night. The realization that I would certainly be spending another year at the school was soul crushing. I even cried a little.

My alarm went off four times before I pulled myself out of bed on Friday. I did not shower; I could not shave. I picked at my food, the abnormally good appetite I had had throughout the week gone, and found myself at a loss of words to explain it. Some things came and went like the seasons; my moods came and went like tides. I had accepted it long ago.

The energy was still coursing through my body. I still felt it acutely but was too subdued to be anxious. My vacant stare caught Alice's attention during lunch; she tried to get me to smile but failed. The jokes she told did not reach me.

I failed my Biology exam. The answers, which had been drilled into my head only days before, eluded me. My multiple-choice questions were guesses. My short answers were rambling explanations as the terms faded from my memory. The handwriting was a raging scrawl across clean paper that left jumbled letters in its aftermath.

I was relieved when I was excused from my last class. Carlisle drove me to Dr. Andalano's office and clapped me on the shoulder as I disappeared down the hallway. When I knocked quietly on Andalano's open doorway, he stood and motioned for me to enter.

I took my seat and folded my hands over my lap, incapable of mustering the usual nerve to smirk to my doctor's face. He was observant enough to notice.

"What's wrong?"

I rubbed my forehead and avoided his eyes as I shrugged.

"How are you feeling?"

I shrugged again and pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes. "Can I tell you the truth?"

"Of course."

"I feel horrible. I feel anxious, I feel sorrow, I feel like a string pulled taunt that is about to snap."

"Do you know why that is?"

"I would not mention it if I thought I did, would I? How fucking stupid do I look?" I growled before pressing against my eyes harder. The pain was sharp; I took a deep breath. "I thought it was my exam."

"Ah, yes. How did that go?"

"I failed it," I said with a shake of the head.

"And that was not the cause of your feelings?"

I dismissed his idea easily. "I knew I would fail before I began studying."

This interested him. He leaned forward in his seat and rested his meaty elbows on the desk. His eyebrows rose slightly over his red face. "Any other suggestions as to what it might be?"

"You think I'm a fucking wizard, don't you? Let me tell you: I do not know everything! You get paid to tell me these things!" I shouted. "God-fucking-damnit!"

"If you are going to be belligerent-"

"I'm not," I conceded. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I will not continue seeing you if you keep having outbursts. Understand?"

I nodded, subdued. "The problem – I think – is a girl."

"I told you earlier this week not to do this, Jasper."

"I know, but she's my lab partner. We have a thing… a trip to Seattle tomorrow to look at some science exhibit. My brother is driving us in – he's got something to do but he said he'd be cool with giving us a ride."

"And?"

"That's it, Doc. It's impossible to explain or identify, like the New Jersey Devil."

Andalano chuckled and waited for me to continue. When I did not, he made an unintelligible scribble on his notepad and looked me over. He asked me to articulate what I was feeling and how long it had been this way.

"All week, really."

"And it hasn't gone away?"

"No."

He made a suspicious hmm sound and scribbled another doodle. In time his silence wore on my frayed nerves. I demanded to know what was wrong; he told me point blank exactly what I had hoped not to hear.

It could be stress; it could be a side effect of my medicine – medicine I was doubtful of taking in the first place. He would need to speak with Carlisle, of course. If the sensation got worse for me, I should call either him or Carlisle – even from the city. If, after Saturday, I still felt this way, then I would need to come in immediately for a reevaluation.

We discussed what he told me at length before inviting Carlisle in as well. I was excused while the two chatted privately about me, and then I went home. The family was waiting for us when we arrived, but I slipped away from the dinner table for my room.

I was tired, plagued by the one thing I had not told my shrink today which I should have. I flopped into bed and drew the blankets around me as I curled into a ball, the clock hardly registering 5 p.m. when I closed my eyes. I lied to everyone I knew, even to the people that were paid to hear me tell the truth.

I did not think it was the trip that strained my nerves so much as it was Bella. I did not want to lose her; I did not want to fuck up this one friendship I had managed to create, even if I knew deep down that it would happen sooner or later.

I hate being alone. More so, I fear being alone. And I knew for fact that when I fucked up with Bella, I would be back where I started: facing my fears.

E/N: Almost 3 weeks. Wow. Okay, my life is very very busy right now. I have work in the morning, 5 afternoon/night classes, and bills to pay for. Stress is killing me! So I cannot update as much as I would like to (or you would like me to). My one request?

Please review this chapter. Don't tell me "Great chapter, update soon!" because I am not, in all likelihood, going to be updating soon. The next chapter is the Seattle chapter, which I am excited for... but let me know how you liked this one!