It's a quite long chapter (to my standards). Hope you'll enjoy! Thank you for the review and the feedback, Chellekathrynnn and sarah0406, I edited that piece of the last chapter to make it less confusing. Thanks for commenting, AMUTOforever305, Vera, qqn and bludaze!
Theresa was in a good mood. She enjoyed hanging out with Leah, Sam, and Paul. It had been quite refreshing and she felt less smothered for a few hours. The gossip mill of Forks High School could blow itself for all she cared. Theresa laughed alone when she saw the borrowed red shirt on the floor of her room.
She had crashed in Leah's couch, that night, and was awakened not by the sun and not by her ghosts, but by the weight of someone stare on the nape of her neck. She turned to face the intruder, head pounding, and eyes burning. Her stomach hurt too.
Covering her eyes with a hand, she forced herself to look through the space between her fingers, cursing the light, she saw a young teenage boy. All thin limbs and awkward heigh, he had dark hair and brown eyes. She turned her back to him and buried herself in the blanket with a groan.
"Hey! Who are you?" His loud voice shook her from sleep, and she hissed back "Theresa, and can you talk without screaming?!"
"Yeah, but what are you doing on my couch?" She felt as if someone was kicking her head.
"Leah's friend. She offered me the couch for the night."
"Night's over, the sun is out, and Leah's still passed out on the bed. Time to go home!" He shook her shoulder and she wanted to cry. Instead, she sat down and tried to keep her eyes from closing again.
Spying at the clock, she quickly pushed her strawberry hair away. Theresa still needed a ride to get to her car. Cursing aloud, she got up and started to search for her jeans. The boy stood next to her, mouth agape, staring at her black underwear. She laughed, adjusting her dark shirt over her torso.
"Hey, kiddo, can you lend me a shirt? Long-sleeved, pretty please?" He nodded at her, blinking when she smiled. Theresa sent a quick text to Paul, asking for a ride. The boy ran back from his room and gave her a red shirt. "Thanks, loudmouth!"
"My name's Seth, not loudmouth!" He was pouting, cheeks red, and dark hair mussed after she rumpled it with a quick sweep of a hand.
"Ok, Seth, where's the bathroom?" He pointed a door in the small corridor, and she went for a quick shower. She hated the smell of alcohol permeating her skin with the hungover, or the bitter taste on her tongue.
Running out in his shirt and her underwear, she heard a distant voice, rough with sleep, saying "Stop flashing my brother, Tessa" but she all but ignored when chasing her jeans under the couch.
Seth was leaning against the wall while she got ready. Then he gave her a once over and said, "You are a mess." She just laughed and stole a toast from a plate she supposed was his before thanking him and running outside.
Paul had been nice to her, laughing at the shirt he definitely recognized. "Why aren't you wearing Leah's clothes?"
"She's still dead to the world, mostly." She laughed when he tugged her new shirt. "I kinda expected you would too."
"Nah, school to go. Leah's the lazy one." He got on his motorcycle and she sat behind him, arms around his waist. When they got to her parked car, he laughed at her again "Wet hair, different clothes and hungover, you're going to be the talk of the school."
She tutted "I don't really mind, but I like it better when the gossip is fair." A few steps closer to him "They can talk all they want if I did had fun." He had his hands on her waist, eyes glued on her mouth. "And did you had fun?" he asked.
"Not nearly enough." And she gave his cheek a quick peck before going to her car. "You should come tomorrow. We are going to watch movies at Clearwater's and… Well, it would be nice if you passed by." She said she would think about it and left.
Theresa smiled at the memory. She liked them, even the little brat.
Then later on she had her little lunchtime with the Cullen. A busy Friday, it had been. Hale had been actually… nice with her. He didn't need to help her with the pain, but he did. And with no manipulation or pressure, he did it just because he wanted.
He wanted her to feel better. The idea sounded foreign, so she dismissed the thought.
Saturday and she would go to the Reserve again. Theresa smiled and started to get ready.
"Teenage love, beautiful, isn't it?" Ethan sang.
"The word you're searching is disgusting and is not accurate either." Sofia shot back.
"Can you both stop? Just happy to go out a little, can't I?" One more reason to drink herself into oblivion.
She sat beside Leah on the ground. She had arrived early, and they went for a walk. They were in a small clearing facing a cliff. Waves against rocks, she could hear the turmoil in the wind. Legs hanging, she threw a stick down and tried to picture the moment it would hit the water. Leah had her knees next to hers but was laid back, facing the clouds.
"Have you ever fallen in love?" Her voice was low, and Theresa followed her to the dirt.
"Yeah. Once." Theresa felt a slip of energy stolen and the weight of Ethan's hand on her leg.
"I knew I was in love a few years ago when Sam sat beside me in a class. It was like my whole body could do nothing but be aware of him, of the distance between us. I thought I could watch him during days and nights, without tiring. But I was only sure when I saw him crying for the first time. To see a fortress of a man so vulnerable, so fragile. It only made me love him more." She spoke slowly as if her words were part of a daydream and Theresa was just a reflex in the mirror.
She noticed she was speaking before deciding to do so "I knew I was in love when he found me in a party, just the shell of a person, and took me home. He bathed me, gave me his shirt, and held me to sleep. When I was awakened by nightmares, crying, and trashing, he offered me a cigarette and a hand to destroy whoever had hurt me." She had been too young and in the path of self-destruction and Ethan had floored her "I knew I loved him when I showed my worst and he proved himself even more of an ass, and I was ok with it. When he took everything I loved and turned into ashes, I knew I loved him because I couldn't let him go."
Leah didn't question her. She took the silence and said after a cold breeze swept them "It's so strange. I'm happy and Sam's happy, and nothing else seems to matter. I am not romantic, you see, but I dream of the day we will marry" she turned to look a Theresa "he proposed a few weeks ago. We are leaving, Theresa. I never liked La Push and never did him. But we like each other, no, we love each other."
"That's the first time I tell someone else about it, I think it's easier because you're an outsider," Leah added. "People have expectations of us building a life in here, in the Reserve. My dad's so traditional that he wanted my mom to quit her job in the hospital because of some old legend about the Cullens. I can't stand it. We'll be gone, me and Sam, I think, before the year's over."
Thresa took in her face, bright eyes and dry lips "I'm happy for you, Leah, I truly am." She turned to look at the sky. As I am afraid. Love is not enough, sometimes, and in others is enough only to destroy you . The words she would never say filled the space between them, and Theresa closed her eyes, feeling Ethan's presence on the back of her mind. Always there, the worst part of her bonding with the worst of him.
But Theresa refused to dive into those thoughts. She stood up, leaving a lost Leah to her daydreams, and stared at the dark forest in front of her. Bright green, dark brown, shadows, and distant sounds. It was too much information and for a few seconds, she thought she had seen someone. A misplaced shade again and she wondered if there was the echo of someone trying to become a ghost.
But she didn't feel like it was. Her fingers didn't tingle, and her mind remained the same. Yet, she could feel someone watching her. Afraid. Theresa was afraid. One more chill and she turned in sharp steps and shook her friend's shoulder "I think it's time for us to go."
Sitting beside Leah and Sam on the couch, she had one leg over the sofa arm and the other over Paul's chest. He had his head turned up to look at her, and she gave him a mocking kick with the heel of her foot. He just held her ankle and laughed.
They were watching a horror movie when he had the idea of pulling her down. She screamed and Leah hit his shoulder in her defense. She could hear Seth talking to someone on the phone inside his room. She got up to make more one batch of popcorn while Paul tried to defend himself from Leah's hand.
Harry Clearwater, the father as she had learned, was out fishing. The mother, Sue was covering a shift in the hospital. Theresa wondered if she had met her mom and if yes if they were friends.
She avoided getting too close to her mom. Anne was perceptive and while she respected Theresa and her moods, she would try to meddle if she found the scars or the historic behind. Her mother, though, was independent enough to no be offended by her daughter's slippery nature.
Watching the microwave's plate turn, she leaned against the counter. Sam walked in, twisting around her to put a glass in the sink. His skin touched her covered arm and Theresa jumped, saying "You are so hot! Do you have a fever?" and sticking a hand on his forehead.
"I thought I was the hot one," Paul said, half walking and half running from a laughing Leah. "Oh, you are, but I think Sam may be sick."
Leah touched her fiancée them, brow furred with worry. "I think you've got a fever, are you feeling cold or tired?"
Sam frow deepened, then "I am alright." He held an arm around Leah and kissed her hair "How could I not be ok when you're around?" She smiled and hopped on the counter, bringing him into her embrace.
Theresa got the popcorn and run out of the kitchen before they started professing their undying love. Paul followed her like a puppy. She would sleep on the couch again, but she knew he expected her to go home with him. She smiled at his antics.
Paul threw himself on the couch, winking at her "Now we can sit together, scared cat."
She put the bowl on the side table and jumped on him, attacking his ribs and laughing in delight when he yelped. Stradling Paul, she said, "Who's scared cat now?" Brown eyes full of mischievous he answered "You" before squeezing her ass making her shriek in surprise again.
She squeaked again when he sat and gasped when he kissed her. His hot mouth moving against hers, and the muscles of his back flexed under her hands. Adjusting her positing, she felt his body tensing when she touched his neck with feather-like fingers. The soft scrap of a nail and she had him shivering. His hand, still with a firm grip of her bottom, made heat pool low in her belly.
Steps from the kitchen and he held her waist, indulging in the last handful of her body before relocating her to sit at his side. A quick movement with the blanket on his lap and the evidence of their doing was hidden from view.
She felt even hotter knowing the state he was in with just a playful kiss.
Leah stared at their innocent faces with a blank look, Sam just snorted before taking the place on the floor. They resumed the movie, but Theresa's mind was a little too lost in the presence of the body next to her.
The movie ended, predictably, in a jump scare. She hated those and fought against screaming as a matter of honor. Head leaning in on the back of the couch, Theresa realized they all still had energy for more. Movies or something else? Walking? Hiking in the middle of the night seemed as pleasant as during the day, with the air heavy with humidity and the biting cold.
"Going to take a breath." She said to her companions. Maybe she and Paul could have a little escapade, or she could discuss love with Leah, or accuse Sam of having a fever, or just laugh as if she wasn't capable to bring their dead grannies for a chat. She just wanted to stand up for a bit.
Walking out of the house, Theresa felt cold and happy. She really liked them. Leaning against the wall of bricks, she fought against her cigarette. What a damned thing it was to light against the strong wind. She heard the door and the quicks steps. Leah's shivering hands helped her with the lighter. Smiling in thanks, she took a drag and held it deep inside her lungs, appreciating the blooming reaction on her tired muscles.
"I guess I never asked your age, but I'm willing to bet it's not legal." Leah was tucked in the blanket, taking in the picture Theresa made. She could imagine; the messy long hair, tall and lean, with haunting eyes – Ethan always described her like that. She would rather be seen as the girl smoking at the corner. "I'm seventeen. And you? You are fresh out of high school, right?"
"Yeah, nineteen and Paul's the youngest, his seventeen too."
"So, what's holding you back?" She gesticulated with her free hand. They were old enough to leave.
"Sam wants to do everything in a proper way. His father… wasn't the greatest, so I guess he wants to make things different from him." She looked at the Theresa for a second before smiling "We are still saving money, too. But I think even my dad will be happy when gets used to the idea."
Theresa blew the smoke away before offering the cigarette to Leah "Have you ever tried?"
The Clearwater shook her head before taking it between her fingers and scowling at the odor. Hesitant, she took it to her lips "Do it slowly and hold it before blowing the smoke away'' Theresa guided her.
Leah did as she said, just to cough uncontrollably later. Theresa laughed at her watery eyes "It's always like that for the first time. C'mon, try again. You may feel lightheaded, though."
"No shit this thing kills you in the end." Leah breathed out before trying again.
"Destroy teeth, organs, and bones. Besides the fucked-up lungs and cancer on the horizon, is very relaxing." Leah laughed at Theresa's nonchalant expression. She knew the consequences of her addiction and she open-heartedly accepted them, although only because she expected her death to come before any building chemicals could have a chance on it.
The door opened again. Sam glared at the cigarette Leah was holding "Why are you smoking? It stinks."
The girl shrugged "Wanted to try."
He stood in front of them in sweatpants and an opened jacket. Beads of sweat on his forehead and flared nostrils, Sam's posture was hostile. Dark scowl in place, she felt like she was meeting a stranger. "You already tried, now put this out."
"Hey, chill out, Sam. One shared cigarette won't kill no one." Theresa reacted fast when she saw Leah's confused face. So, being rude and demanding wasn't the rule. Better. "There's something wrong with him, Theresa. You should go inside." Ethan suggested.
"Shared, right? Of course, the thing is yours." He spat the words, rolling his shoulders as if uncomfortable in his own body.
"Excuse me?" Again, she answered by instinct. She wondered if she should call Paul to calm him down. She felt mildly intimidated, but the man had shown himself such a big ted bear before that her mind still struggled to keep up.
"You know, Paul's a good kid, he has a temper and maybe something of a reputation, but he likes you." Now it was about Paul? What the fuck was his problem? "It would be kind of you to not behave as a slut, if that is possible."
"Why are you speaking like this with her? What happened?" Leah's eyes were huge and her voice high-pitched. "He's pissed, I think things can get physical. Not time for cheeky comments, I doubt Paul could hold this guy back." Sofia said as matter of fact.
The door opened again, Paul was with them and she had to force a sigh of relief back. He eyed Theresa, searching for a cue of whatever was happening. "I think we should go inside now, Leah. Sam clearly needs space now."
He raised his hand, eyes on Leah's offending fingers and cigarette, and for a moment she thought he would slap it. Instead, he held himself and took a step back, staring at his arm as if it scared the life out of him. "I'm sorry, I just…" Wide-eyed, he glared at the little tube "it smells so bad, I can feel it burning my throat." In the end, his voice had regained some of the initial aggression.
Leah dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. She walked closer to him with forearms raised as in an offer of peace and said "Hey, handsome, look at me. I'm here, everything is okay." Another step "I think you may be too feverish to be outside right now."
She was right, he could be delirious. High fever could cause irritability, mental confusion, and delusions. Sam seemed to reach the same conclusion and promptly denied "I'm not sick. I just… I need to go home."
"Ok, Sam, I will drive you there, c'mon," Paul said, but she could see he was starting to get mad with the situation.
Sam nodded, giving a sloppy kiss of goodbye to Leah and an awkward nod to Theresa before walking to his car. "I'll keep you updated," Paul said unsure smile in the place of the usual charming one, before leaving for the driver's seat.
They watched the car leave in silence, and Theresa felt something important had happened, even if she couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Leah turned to her and tried to apologize for Sam's behavior. "Don't worry, let's just get you inside and we can talk about it later."
Sitting on the couch surrounded by the vestiges of them and the fun they had together within the messy pillows, forgotten glasses, lost bowls, and abundance of blankets, Theresa felt numb. She was reminded when as a child she touched a hot pan, of those short seconds between the tingling of the burn and the actual pain. She thought about that moment when she would take her fingers away and feel nothing, even if it was only for an instant.
But the pain would come, the consequences would arrive, and even if she only felt a funny tingle now, confused about whatever had just happened, Theresa still had the foreboding feeling that a line was crossed and there would be no turning back from it.
Beside her, sat Leah's younger brother, Seth. It was late, but both of them kept a silent vigil of the bathroom door, where his sister had locked herself with the excuse of a never-ending shower. Playing with his hands, he finally spoke "What happened?"
"Life happened." At his unimpressed glare, she added "Things got fucked up."
"You mean someone messed up? Paul fought with Leah? Or Sam?" He tried again.
"When you put like this, as if when an asshole screws up, it leads to the distribution of blame and responsibilities." She pointed around them. "What happened here, though? Illogical, without trigger or warning, it just fucked up as only life is able to do, leaving no one to blame but all a little guilty."
"You really put thought into the crazy things you say." Seth chuckled, even if the mood was still somber.
"Someone has to, loudmouth."
"Seth, my name's Seth. And where's my shirt, by the way?"
"It's on my bedroom's floor. And before you ask, after washing, it will go straight into my drawer." He spluttered, red and confused. "Yes, I stole it. Call me a shirt thief and be done with it."
"Even that isn't yours?" He pointed at her Metallica shirt. Or Ethan's.
"It is now." She laughed at his scandalized face.
Sunday afternoon she spent in bed. Paul had texted her, saying he had delivered a sick Sam to his mother's caring hands. She laughed when he wrote about how they should meet alone next time. The hours of the night flew away while she drew them. A quick sketch of Sam, another of Paul on the couch, spread under her weight. The last one was Leah's.
It was of her profile, slightly open eyes gazing the cloudy sky and parted mouth. The long nose, full lips, and lifted chin made in careful lines. A few strands of long dark hair on her forehead. Her lowered lids and long lashes softening her strong cheekbones. Leah was gorgeous, and sweet, and funny, and so painfully in love.
Theresa liked Sam too. She could picture them getting old suitcases and cardboard boxes full of their clothes, memories, and past, fitting all in the trunk and backseat of Sam's old car. She could imagine them leaving the Reserve, leaving Forks, leaving them all behind. Together, they had all they needed. She smiled.
Ethan had been all she needed once, and they could have fitted their things in a car and left. But their car was always on the risk of going off a curve and into an angry river or a stern wall. She had been happy because she had him, but she hadn't been happy with him. He wasn't a happy person either. Full of spite and intensity, Ethan had lured her in. They were a perfect storm, a tragedy waiting to happen.
And it did happen. But she survived, she was still here. Theresa sat on the bed, ignoring the agitation of her silenced ghosts. She had survived him, and so she did with herself. He was an echo now, but she lived on and on. For the first time, the notion brought yearning, yes, but satisfaction too, instead of the bitter despair and rage.
Flickering the pages until she found a drawing of him, Theresa laughed. Full of ghosts, but maybe a little less haunted.
Happiness made her careless, they would tell her. but she had them silent and so was the evening. Leah, Paul, and Sam were flicker presences in her life, she was aware. They knew nothing of her and meant very little too. However, there was something precious about them.
She dreamed of red eyes, so unfamiliar yet so known. Hands pushing her down, cold and unforgiving, and on the ground, next to her head, a light cigarette.
She woke cold and sweaty, her window open. With a chill, she closed and locked it before showering. Her mother awaited her in the kitchen with a full table. Waffles, grapes, and cranberries. She added whipped cream and thanked Anne.
"It feels like I'm still living alone, you know, you're always out." She said through a mouthful of food.
"I was with Leah most of the weekend." Paul or Sam's name wouldn't make much of a difference, but she left them out anyway.
"Leah Clearwater? I know Sue, a good woman. But her daughter is a bit older than you, no?"
"Yeah, she told me her mother's a nurse. I thought you would know her." Theresa said. They fell silent for a few seconds.
"Well, I know we both, apparently, have pretty busy lives, but I wanted to spend some time together. I have a free night today, we could watch some movies… or assemble a puzzle, or cook something, I don't know." Her mother rambled, eyes still on her breakfast.
"Movies sound great. I can make popcorn too, show-off my culinary skills with the one 'dish' I know how to prepare." She interrupted her mother, feeling awkward. Anne smiled, hope bright on her face, and said goodbye before leaving for work.
Arriving a little late at school, she got in the full of cars - and empty of people - parking lot. Strolling in the halls, she chose to let the first class of the day, history, slide away. Not feeling up to stand in the cold either, she walked around until she found an empty classroom where she could laze in.
Closing the door behind her, she sat on a chair in the front of the room and pulled her sketchbook out of her bag. She hadn't added any ghosts in the pages since her little stunt with Lauren. Yet, she felt the whisper of something in her mind. Not a face or the feeling , but the edge of something. Playing with lost lines on the paper, she made the thin legs of a desk. Two drawers, wooden with dark knobs. Not a desk, a dressing table. Angling her head, she tried to imagine shades in the mirror. For some lost reason, she knew there were two.
"I never pictured you as the type of student who sits next to the teacher." Hale's deep voice brought her back. Heart in her mouth, she glared at him.
Putting a hand on her chest, she tried to regulate her breathing. He was leaning against the desk next to hers, dressed in jeans and a light blue sweater, clearly amused at her shock. "I never pictured you as the type of student who skips class either, but you do fit right into the kind who creeps around."
"I'm not creeping around." Raising her eyebrows, she gesticulated to the door and to him. He rolled his eyes, before sweeping her sketchbook from her.
"Hale, give it back!" She protested, but he just smiled, flipping the pages. Giving her a cheeky wink, he corrected her "Jasper, not Hale."
"Ok, Jasper, give it back!" She refused to get up, though, supporting her chin on the heel of her hand while he closed the sketchbook with a sigh. "The polite thing would be to offer me your first name, too."
"Call me whatever you want, but give it back, please?" She batted her eyelashes innocently at him. He huffed.
"Ok, Tessa," Jasper said, smirking when she blanched at the nickname.
"Not Tessa, or you'll live with Jazz." He laughed, then, shaking his head before telling her his siblings called him by that nickname.
"No shit you all live at each other necks." She said under her breath, staring longingly at the small book in his hands.
Jasper looked at her for an instant "We don't live at each other necks."
"Yes, you do. You keep glaring at each other or at Bella or at me. But fear not, Jazz, the sun rises for the bitter too."
He quirked an eyebrow at her choice of words but otherwise kept silent. Putting her sketchbook on her table, his eyes traced her face slowly. Unnerved by his dispassionate analysis, she did the same to him. Chin up, he stared down at her. She was torn between loving and hating this position.
Because of the angle of his head, the eyelids were dropped, and the eyelashes hovering his cheekbones made him almost pretty. The sharp cut of the jaw and towering height roughened his appearance and made him imposing. She could see a casual smile peeking out. She hated to have to look up to talk to him and yet it was a lovely sight.
"The first time you had lunch with us, you wanted to play a game of questions," she was reminded of the day she tried to inquire about their eyes only to shot down by Rosalie "I think we could do it now. And, Tessa, I would know if you tried to lie." Tapping in a silent pattern the cover of her book, she felt her eyes dragged to his long fingers.
"Forget the Tessa thing and you have a deal. Now, why are yours and your family's eyes golden?" She shot back.
"Because we're calm and sated." She accepted with a nod. Details could come with further inquire. "The number and name beside some of your drawings… They are identifications, right?"
She just nodded. He was aware of the answer all the same, but she still felt oddly vulnerable knowing he had spied on her ghosts, so she tried to return the favor "What's your, uh, range?"
"To know what they are feeling; the cafeteria. I need to be closer to influence the emotions, though." He said without a pause. She risked another glimpse at his eyes, nervous energy rolling in her stomach. At the same time that she wanted to celebrate the finding of another with a curse or a blessing, she knew they were fundamentally different. He wasn't human.
"There are a few portraits without any identification in here." She held her left hand over the sketchbook, and he froze his fingers in the air only to touch her wrist, finger slipping under her sleeve over her pulse point. She held back a gasp at the temperature of his body. Otherwise, she pretended he couldn't feel her heartbeat spiking under his touch. "Why?"
She blinked a few times to gather herself before answering "The first drawing has the identification. If it's a repeated portrait I leave it bare." She knew she was losing ground – ground she didn't even care about – but the weight of his eyes and touch of his skin flared something inside her. "What happens if you are not calm or sated?"
He smiled "My eyes turn black."
"I wasn't asking about your eyes." He tapped her skin and laughed lowly.
"Oh. And how did you free yourself last time?" He was speaking about the day he had bathed her with foreign feelings. Maybe not foreign, as lust was frequent in her life and, well, he was unnaturally attractive. But the intensity, the lack of control, yes, that had been him.
"I didn't." She could half answer too. And she actually didn't, Ethan and Sofia had been the ones to manage her reactions and control her body. "Why your family disapproves of mine's and Bella's presences?"
He turned her wrist up, uncovering her forearm. Holding it with one hand, he ran his fingertips over her thin scar "You did this one first, uh?" Before she could ask, he added "It's less ragged than the other one. You are right-handed and surely the pain didn't help with your precision."
She held back a flinch and left her arm relaxed under his touch. "Pretty sure I asked you something, Jasper."
She knew she could make him stop, make him take his hand away, but there was something oddly enticing about staying put under his touch. Angling her head to better watch him, she saw how his eyes slowly took the sight of her mouth, of her neck, of her cleavage, just to crawl back to her throat. Small fires started on the trail of his gaze.
"They think is unsafe." His voice was thick and the golden of his eyes turned into a darker shade of caramel. She wondered if he was losing his cool. "For neither of us. But for you, oh, it's deadly."
His hand ran softly from her wrist to her arm, grazing her shoulder and skimming the sensitive skin of her neck. She shivered. He held her there, fingers on her nape tilting her head up, the heel of his hand on her pulse and thumb brushing her jaw.
Danger , some long-forgotten instinct whispered.
With parted lips and black eyes, he spoke with his southern drawl stronger "You can feel it too, can't you?" He held her tighter, his other hand brushing lost hair strands away from her neck and pulling her close by her shoulder. Jasper was slightly bent, shortening the distance between them. "And don't forget, Theresa, I'll know if you lie."
"You know I can." Lust heavy on her tongue, but she knew he was speaking of more, of the pull, the burning feeling under her skin, the pleasure she felt just with a glance of his. It was almost too much. Ghosts, other people, it all lay forgotten as long as she had her eyes on him.
Covering his hand with her own, she felt him, the impossible smooth texture of his skin. Hard as marble, she felt his flexing fingers under her own. Staring down at Theresa, he was an ancient statue brought to life. He was close then, breath mixing with hers.
She knew he would do something, intent strong in his movements, pulling her closer, angling her head higher, and meticulously brushing her hair away.
"Why?" She half-whispered, grey eyes locked with his "Your family, your kind, they don't mix with us. And they don't want either." His features hardened and she almost whimpered under the forceful hold he had of her shoulder. The touch on her neck was delicate, if unyielding.
"Tell me, Jasper, why are you here? What do you want from me?"
For a second, she thought he would answer. Jasper blinked, and the thumb on her jaw grazed her bottom lip. Then, he stood straight, and she had her tilted back to keep up with the movement. He smiled and his face was marked with an emotion she couldn't read.
"All you can give, Theresa, and more."
Then, his touch was gone, and he was leaning on the desk beside her again. The past minutes were almost a faraway dream, but the feeling of being at his mercy stayed. She hated it and hated even more how she craved his touch. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to make a scathing comment.
Edward entered the empty classroom, followed by his sister after a millisecond.
"Oh, I'm right on time!" Alice Cullen said, huge eyes checking Theresa's whole body, only to turn to Jasper "You… you had decided. I saw it!"
They all looked at each other. Theresa burst out laughing. Standing up, she said between chuckles "Just count on the Cullens to make everything even more awkward", picked her sketchbook, and walked away.