Ivy
"Ivy Rebecca Donovan, get your butt down here now!"
I groaned incoherently, praying for the world to end just so I didn't have to heed my mother's shouting.
"School starts in an hour!" The voice got louder as I heard my mom make her way upstairs.
My bedroom door opened and Vanessa Donovan unnecessarily yelled, "Are you awake?"
"Yeah," I grunted, "Stop shouting please."
"Ivy, I don't speak caveman. All I heard was grunting," my mom admonished. Odd, I swear I spoke clearly.
I kept my eyes closed all the same. My mom gave an exasperated sigh and I heard her stomp downstairs.
"Lily, go get your sister up."
Oh god, no. Being woken up by Lily was the worst thing ever; I guess my mom meant business. I heard Lily's pair of eight-year-old feet tear up the stairs.
"IVYIVYIVYIVYIVY!" she yelled, jumping onto my bed and landing on my knee painfully. I winced at not only her weight on me but her screeching making my ears ring.
"Ugh! Gerroff me!" I grunted again, shoving blindly at my sister. She dodged every swipe and laughed.
Finally, I pried my eyelids open and shut them quickly as the morning light streaming through my windows blinded me. Rubbing my eyes, I gingerly opened them slowly this time. Lily threw off my duvet, grabbed my feet and swung them over the side.
"Thanks a lot," I said to her sarcastically.
"You're welcome!" she said brightly. Damn morning people. How I hate them!
"Now get outta here, Munchkin," I grinned, gently pushing her out the door.
I sighed going over to my disaster of a closet. Luckily, I had mentally picked out an outfit for the first day of my fourth and final year of high school. Senior year was at last upon me and I needed to look good. Well, presentable was all I really needed. Not like that boy would ever look at me.
I pulled on my jeans, a black V neck t-shirt, plaid flannel button up and warm socks. Lumberjack chic. I finger combed my dark brown, wavy hair leaving it tousled. I almost never bothered styling it. Forks, Washington was not a town conducive to straightening one's hair. The sheer amount of dampness in the air made my hair curl regardless of what I did to it. Trying to fight your own hair was a losing battle. Every single time.
I looked at my bedside clock and saw I had fifteen minutes left to grab breakfast. I hurried down the stairs into the kitchen.
"Good god, Mom! Put a shirt on!" I made a big show of averting my eyes. She was rushing around in just her bra.
"It's in the dryer," she said by way of explaining.
"I don't want your excuses, young lady! You're not wearing that to work and that's final!" I joked in my best 'mom voice'. This situation wasn't new to my family and my mom just laughed, pouring me a mug of green tea.
"I made some banana oatmeal muffins yesterday so help yourself," she told me, quickly giving me a peck on the cheek and rushing out of the kitchen, presumably to find her shirt.
Mornings were generally chaos at my house. My mom and sister were morning people while my dad and I were night owls. My dad, Tyler Donovan, was just making his way down the stairs, bleary eyed.
"Why is your mom running around without a shirt?" my dad asked.
"She said it's in the dryer," Lily told him with her mouth full of muffin.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," my dad told her automatically, pouring himself some coffee.
My parents were always very strict with etiquette. Don't slouch, chew with your mouth closed, always say please and thank you. I have to say, we were very polite kids.
"Not that I mind your mom running around with no shirt," my dad grinned.
"Ew dad! Gross!" Lily whined. As far as she was concerned, boys still had cooties. I just laughed. My parents, Tyler and Vanessa Donovan were life-long Forks people, born and raised. They were high school sweethearts who went to the same college and graduated together. They came back home to raise a family. My mom was a lawyer in a small firm in Forks that delt mostly in real estate. My dad was an IT tech who worked from home and occasionally went to Seattle to help businesses with their computer problems.
"So, excited to see your boy, kiddo?" my dad asked me, hiding a smirk.
I sighed, "Dad, you know he's never said one word to me, right?"
"Well, maybe he just finally realized over the summer that he's madly in love with you?"
"I seriously doubt that," I grumbled good-naturedly. My parents both knew about the crush I'd had for three years now, right from the very first day his family moved to Forks. My family was extremely close-knit and I knew I could tell them anything. It was useless trying to hide something like a crush from them so I just told them.
I gave my dad a peck on the cheek, yelled a 'bye' to my mom who was no doubt waist deep into the dryer looking for her shirt and hustled my sister out the door.
After fighting over the radio for a few minutes (I won!), I pulled out of the driveway to drive my sister to school.
"Bye, sweetheart!" I called jokingly as she exited the car and she blew me a raspberry in reply, skipping (yes, actually skipping) into the schoolyard. Jesus, if only my life were that cheerful.
To be honest, I loved the life I lived. I had a great family, a great group of friends and some hobbies I loved. Apart from my boy, there was one love of my life. Music. I couldn't remember a time I didn't love all kinds of music. Not a month went by that my parents didn't take me and my sister to a live concert in Port Angeles or Seattle. I had always wanted to play the violin as far back as I can remember.
My mom said that after one of the first concerts I'd ever been to, I told her that's what I wanted to play. She signed me up for lessons and it was an instant connection. It was as if I had been born to hold the violin beneath my chin and the bow in my hand. At 18, it had become an extension of me and it was as natural as anything to fit it between my jaw and shoulder and tune the strings.
I brought it with me to school today to try and fit some practice in. The Excelsior Academy of Musical Studies, or EAMS as it was usually referred to, was my Holy Grail. I had wanted to get in there for as long as I can remember and as this was my last year of high school, EAMS was next on my list of schooling. While most kids my age were going to be filling out applications for colleges, I'd be practicing until my fingers bled, hoping to earn a full scholarship. It was super exclusive and super expensive. While my family lived a comfortable life, we didn't have near enough money to pay for tuition.
I had gotten a job at Mercury Vinyl, the local record store for some extra cash but without a scholarship, it still wouldn't be enough if I worked there for 100 years.
I pulled into the parking lot still only half full. I already had my schedule and made my way to home room.
And there he was.
Jasper Hale. The most beautiful man I'd ever laid eyes on. From the glorious honey-colored, shoulder length, wavy hair, to the broad shoulders, to the narrow waist, and the (holy hell!) cowboy boots, he was sex on long legs.
He looked amazing. He smelt amazing. Passing him in the hallway just to catch his scent was the highlight of my day. I'd bet he sounds amazing (I don't think I've ever heard him speak), feels amazing (the muscles were obvious) and tastes amazing (Fuck! Don't go there, Ivy). A real feast for the senses.
I made sure not to make eye contact but rushed to take a seat behind him. It was a weird thing, but I always tried to sit behind him. Sometimes I could catch a whiff of his scent if the fan at the front of the class was on. It was like leather, freshly crushed pine needles and entirely man. How was this kid only 18? No really. How? All the other senior guys were still gangly and awkward. Jasper was entirely a full-grown man.
I also liked to sit behind him just to stare at his hair. Some girls liked chests, some liked thighs. I was definitely a hair girl. And his was perfection. There were so many times I had ached to touch it and forced myself not to because I wasn't a creep. I swear it!
Then there was that added bonus of leaving the class after him and watching him walk away. I'll be damned if his isn't the sexiest ass I've ever seen. Shit. I guess I am a creep…
I took the empty seat behind him (score!) and stared at his hair until the bell rang, signalling the start of class. I tried to ignore his twin sister, Rosalie, which was easy to do because she was glaring daggers at somebody else. I didn't really care as long as it wasn't me. She was scary as fuck.
I almost missed my name being called during attendance because the muscles in his back flexed just as I said "here" and I think I may have stuttered. Jasper Hale was going to be the death of me.
As I told my dad, not only has he never said a word to me, I don't think he's ever seen me because every time I walk close by him, he screws his eyes shut.
That's another thing about him. Well, him and his entire family: Emmett, Rosalie, Alice and Edward. I'd never met Doctor Cullen and his wife but I'd bet a month's salary that they were odd too. They were the weirdest family I'd ever seen. And that includes the Addams and Munsters. They're all adopted and yet they all have the same, weirdest eye color. It was kind of amber and really pretty but seriously, outside of fiction, who has eyes that color? Maybe they all wore coloured contacts?
There was also something…off about them. I couldn't put my finger on it but anytime I was near one of them, my skin crawled. Each one of them had something wrong about them. Alice zoned out all the time and she was just weird. Emmett was massive and intimidating as hell. Rosalie was drop dead gorgeous but always scowled at everyone and everything. Edward always seemed like he was paying attention to something other than what was going on around him. Jasper always seemed to look pained and his muscles were always tense. For the latter, I could attest to that first hand.
What was more, with the exception of Edward, they were all together. Romantically. Emmett and Rosalie, Jasper and Alice. I disliked Alice for obvious reasons.
When home room ended and I had watched Jasper walk away, I made my way to my locker where my two best friends were hanging out.
"Ivy!" Lisa cried, "I haven't seen you in ages!" Lisa and I had been friends since kindergarten. She flourished her hands dramatically.
"Lisa, I saw you two days ago and spent all summer with you, you dork," I laughed.
"Okay. But it felt like ages," she laughed, riffling in her backpack for something.
"Hey Kelly! Where have you been all summer?" I asked her. She was the newest addition to my best friend roster. Lisa and I had befriended her when her family moved to Forks when we first started high school.
"I was travelling in Ireland, meeting relatives I've never met. I thought I told you?" Kelly said, hugging me.
I gave her a pointed look. "You never said anything about travelling. Lisa and I thought you had fallen off the face of the Earth," I told her. She was the most absentminded person I had ever met but I loved her anyway.
"I'm sorry I worried you," Kelly smiled sheepishly, running a hand through her red hair. I knew she meant it but I also knew this would happen again in the future.
Lisa finally pulled out a rumpled sheet from her bag. It was her schedule so Kelly and I pulled ours out to see if we had the same classes. Being a small school, we were almost guaranteed to share courses.
"Almost identical!" I cheered and got some weird looks. I didn't care. I was a senior and as Rizzo said in Grease, 'This time we're seniors and we're going to rule the school'.
"Except where you both have AP Chemistry, I have a spare," I pointed to the empty block of my timetable.
"Lucky!" Lisa exclaimed. "Why? Why did I want to be a doctor?" she wailed dramatically.
"Oh come off it, you'll make more money than a struggling musician," I grinned, ruffling her already messy blonde hair. She swatted my hand away, smiling anyway.
"And I have AP French without you guys," Kelly said.
"Why are you taking French anyway? Wouldn't you be better off taking Spanish? More people speak Spanish in the world than French," Lisa asked.
"Because French is the language of love," I made kissy faces at Kelly, who chuckled and ducked away from my outstretched arms.
"I bet they teach you how to French kiss," I waggled my eyebrows.
"And how to make French fries," Lisa joined in.
"And how to French inhale," I continued.
"And how to make French toast," Lisa and I were cornering Kelly against the lockers.
"And… Damn. I've run out of French things," I frowned.
"Come on! The bell is gonna ring soon," Kelly laughed. I quickly stuffed my bag into my locker and carefully took out my violin case.
"You guys go on. I'm going to get some practice in before lunch. I've got my spare right now anyway," I told them.
"Have fun!" Lisa called.
"We'll see you at lunch," Kelly said as they walked away.
I smiled. My friends were fantastic and we were the very picture of jokes about a blonde, a brunette and a redhead.
Jasper
"I've got a spare," I quietly told my brothers and sisters, "So I'll see you all at lunch."
"Don't go to the auditorium, Jazz," Alice told me. I frowned.
"What's wrong with the auditorium?" I asked her.
Alice looked off in the distance for a second before replying, "There's going to be someone else there."
"Am I going to have a problem?" I asked Alice, lowering my voice even further.
"No. But why risk it?" Alice started to skip to her class before I could question that.
Alice could sometimes be vague but not like that. The only time she did that was when she didn't want to share what she had actually seen. My frown deepened.
The first day of school was always the hardest for me. The onslaught of emotions hit me hard after being away for the summer. And then there was the anxiety of a new school year. Later on, there would be fights between friends, messy breakups, new hookups and stress over exams. There really wasn't a good time to be an empath when you were surrounded by teenagers.
I decided to head to the auditorium anyway. Alice had said I wasn't going to hurt anyone and I trusted that.
I entered the building that sat a bit away from all the others. It was dark and blessedly quiet. I couldn't feel anyone else in there. I knew Alice wasn't mistaken, she never was, so I guessed whoever was going to be here hadn't arrived yet or had changed their mind. Alice's visions were dependent on someone's choices.
I opened the door to the auditorium proper and scaled the stairs to the back row of seats, hidden in the shadows like a real vampire. I smiled to myself. I leaned back, stretched out my legs into the aisle and closed my eyes, relishing the feel of emptiness when I was away from people.
I didn't even bother opening my eyes when I heard the auditorium door open and the quiet footfalls of someone entering. I tried to identify the sounds they were making. The person snapped on some lights, likely just on the stage as I couldn't see light through my eyelids. Something was set down on the stage. The snaps of something like a briefcase opened. There was some shuffling of papers.
I reached out to test the emotions of the other person. It was most likely a girl; their emotions were of a different tenor than a boy's. More nuanced and often more fanciful. This girl was exuding calm and a bit of excited anticipation. I was intrigued.
I heard another rustling, this time of clothes, and footsteps up to the stage. Then I heard something that surprised me: the tuning of strings. A violin by the sounds of it. I'm sure my eyebrows shot up in the darkness. I really hoped that this girl was good. I braced myself to make a hasty exit if she made the instrument screech.
I heard her take a deep breath and she began to play. I almost bolted out of my seat at the first shrieking notes but instantly recognized the opening of Danse Macabre by Saint-Saëns. The screeching notes were part of the song. She played the violin solo and she also played the orchestra's violin parts. Not only did she play the violin, she made it sing. It was beautiful. She hit every note.
I savoured the emotions she was feeling. Primarily, it was a soaring sense of freedom. This girl clearly loved to play and her emotions reflected the feel of the song. Danse Macabre was about Death raising the corpses of the dead for one night, playing the violin for them to dance to. As the girl played Death's violin solo, she felt a beguiling sort of power, compelling the dead to dance for her. Moving into the faster tempo of the orchestra's violins, her feelings shifted to something more playful and cheerful. I knew her fingers must be flying over the strings.
I pulled my legs in from the aisle as I leaned forward with my forearms on my knees. I opened my eyes to see who this virtuoso was. I got another surprise when I saw that it was the girl who always seemed to sit behind me when we had a class together. I always thought she was strange. She seemed afraid of catching my or my sibling's gaze but that was normal. We tended to make people nervous. I never really gave much thought to it or her. I was pretty sure her name was Ivy.
She played through the entire song and I heard the closing bars. She lowered the violin with a pleased sigh, descending from the stage to go through some sheet music. I debated with myself for a moment and decided to let my presence be known. I applauded.
She must have jumped a foot in the air, looking around wildly for the spectator. I walked down the aisle at a normal human pace.
"That was impressive," I complimented her sincerely, stepping into the light from the stage.
The girl stared for a moment, frozen in surprise. I nearly staggered as I felt the tidal wave of lust hit me. Yes, this was definitely the girl that sat behind me. I should have anticipated it; I felt her particular brand of lust every time we shared a class. I considered leaving.
Girls and some boys lusting after me wasn't new. They lusted after both of my brothers too while the boys and some girls lusted after my sister and Alice. What made me uncomfortable was that they had no idea that I could snap at any moment and kill them. They were lusting after a murderer.
"I thought I was alone in here," she said, regaining her tongue. "Did I disturb you?"
"Not at all, I enjoyed the performance," I gave her a small smile, making her lust spike again. I held back my exasperated sigh.
Despite the lust, I felt the trepidation rolling off of her. I always felt it when talking to a human.
"Thank you."
I was pleased she took my compliment. So many people were self-effacing when it came to knowing their worth. I came to a normal distance for a human conversation and noticed that she took a small step back, probably not consciously. I felt how uncomfortable my proximity was making her feel. I sent her a dose of calm. Her tensed shoulders relaxed.
"You have a southern accent," she stated and there was that lust again. Jesus, she had it bad for me.
"I'm originally from Texas," I told her. She bobbed her head, absorbing that information. I could feel her confusion, likely trying to piece together my past and how I had ended up with my adoptive parents. It also didn't explain how Rosalie didn't have an accent when she was supposed to be my twin. I had to change the subject.
"I don't think we've ever really met. I'm Jasper Hale," I introduced myself.
"Ivy Donovan," she confirmed, puzzlement forgotten.
"Do you play here often?" I asked.
"Not as often as I'd like. I'm lucky to have a spare this year so I can practice more. I'm going to be applying to EAMS so I need all the practice I can get."
"EAMS?" I asked, never having heard the name.
"It's a music conservatory in Seattle. It's very hard to get in so my playing needs to be top notch."
"I'm no expert but you play beautifully," I told her, sincere again. I tensed for a moment when her blood rushed to her cheeks. Her heartbeat sped up too. Lord, she smelled good and I felt ashamed when I meant it in a food sense.
"Thanks," her unease seemed to be creeping back up again, likely she noticed my demeanour change. I sent her a bit more calm, careful not to overdo it. Humans could tell when their emotions changed too suddenly.
"Have you been playing long?" I asked, trying to set her more at ease and keep myself from obsessing over the smell of her blood.
"Since I was four. I'm what you would call a prodigy. By the time I was nine I was playing as well as a twenty-year-old violinist," she explained with pride. I was impressed.
"Then I'm sure you'll be a shoe-in for EAMS," I told her.
"No harm in being prepared," she laughed, pleased at my comment.
"Would you care to play something else? I'm all ears," I offered, more than happy to hear her play.
She hesitated. "Of course, I can leave if I make you uncomfortable," I told her, truly not wanting her to feel anxious.
"No, no. It's fine," she assured me quickly but I could sense she was nervous. I couldn't tell what was bothering her until I realized I had stepped forward and she had backed up into the stage. She felt threatened. I backed away to sit in the front row seats and she felt better as she regained the stage. She was also feeling foolish. No doubt she was wondering why she felt uneasy around me. Your feelings are absolutely right, lovely girl, I thought. You should stay away from me.
More to the point, why wasn't I leaving?
I knew the reason as soon as Ivy started playing her second selection. It wasn't a song I was familiar with; it wasn't classical. It was incredibly beautiful with a lingering sadness and longing lilt to it. The emotions that came pouring out of Ivy were so pure and heartfelt. She was feeling the music, at times she was filled with love, at times she felt incredible yearning, a little bit of hope and a lot of heartache. It was as much an emotional journey as an auditory one. But underlying it all, was Ivy's pure joy at getting lost in the notes, letting the music take her away. In a way, I was with her.
As the last lingering note hung in the air, I stood and applauded her again, smiling. Ivy smiled proudly and took a little bow.
She descended from the stage and lovingly packed her violin away. I looked at my watch and was amazed to see it was almost time for lunch.
"What was that last song? I've never heard it before," I asked Ivy.
"Scene D'amour by Bernard Herrmann. It's from Vertigo by Alfred Hitchcock. It's one of my favourite movies."
Still on a high from the incredible emotions that Ivy evoked, I asked, "Can I walk you to lunch?"
She seemed startled by this but nodded with a small smile.
We walked side by side out of the auditorium building and I felt Ivy's discomfort. I put a little more distance between us.
"Do you go to the auditorium often?" she asked.
"From time to time, when high school drama gets to be too much," I gave her a crooked grin and she nearly stumbled. She tried to hide a wince, embarrassed.
"I just have to stop at my locker to put this away," she indicated the case she was carrying.
"I'll wait," I told her, in no rush to go to lunch. I never ate anything anyways.
As Ivy fumbled around in her locker, grabbing her lunch bag, I decided to ask her permission to hear her play again.
"You want to listen to more?" she seemed uncomprehending of why I would want to.
"Yes. Only if you're okay with it, obviously."
"I'm okay with it," she said quickly, "I'm flattered, actually."
We left for the cafeteria and I wondered why Alice had told me not to go to the auditorium. She was so very lovely. I was happy to have met her properly.
Just inside the doors of the mostly full dining hall I turned to Ivy to ask, "Same place tomorrow?"
"Absolutely," she gave me a dazzling smile accompanied by such joy that I was momentarily transfixed.
"Bye!" she said as she made her way to her friend's table.
I wandered over to my family's table, wondering what the hell had come over me.
A/N: Hello readers! This is a Jasper/OC and Demetri/OC story, with the same OC at different points. These guys aren't polyamorous, ;). I hope you like them and my OC Ivy as much as I do. I believe in HEAs and this is primarily a SPOILER! Jasper story. I hope you enjoy it.
It's completely finished and I will try to post once a week. I would very much appreciate feedback and encourage you to leave some!
Happy reading!