Half of this chapter was written before I disappeared. See if you can find where exactly I picked it back up.
This is all Alice and Jasper, with one surprise introduction at the end.
-O.K.
Five
Today the snow became rain.
Alice watched the droplets as they slid down her bangs and landed on the pavement between her soaked sneakers. Plop and swirl in dirt and smell, city rain felt like a bathtub of filth washing away the sins of the higher-ups, bringing them down for the street dwellers to soak up like sponges.
Bella would need a shower after this storm. Alice would have to make sure she got one once she finally found her.
Light, easy steps approached her, sending the dirty and rainbow oil spills swirling as she turned to see Jasper through the thick glass of the store door.
"Things are finally starting to warm up, whew." He said, his voice raised in order to carry from indoor to out. He pulled off his thick black sweatshirt as he reached underneath the hemmed bottom with one hand to unlock the store door. Alice nibbled on the cracked, bleeding remains of her index fingernail and watched as Jasper turned and threw his sweatshirt beside the counter, where it swung over his shoulder.
"Jasper-" She stood from the spot where'd she spent her morning beside the shop door.
"Hold on, okay? Just, give me a minute." He breathed, running two hands slowly over his face as he sighed into his palms. He pulled the door open, "Okay, okay. Come on, how long have you been out there?"
"Jasper," She wrapped her arms around her sides and stepped inside, her temples were throbbing, "It's been days,"
"Really? Didn't see you out there yesterday." The left half of his mouth cracked into a lazy smile but fell quickly when he saw her expression.
"I know, Alice. I know. I've been asking, I promise, I've been asking all around." The florescent lights flickered lazily to life, reluctant to shine. Jasper turned his broad back to her, jabbing at the coffee maker with slow, thick movements.
"Fuck." Alice slumped to the floor, her back sliding against the wall of the counter.
"Hey, don't be like that, come on, Alice," Jasper knelt in front of her, "Come on, it's okay, we're gonna find her. Are you sure you don't want to call the police? They could help…"
She shook her head, rubbing her wet hair against the tops of her knees. No police. Bella wouldn't trust them, they'd never done anything to help them besides lock Alice in a cell while Bella had to wait alone in hiding so they wouldn't take her back to foster care. James would kill her if he found out she'd called the police as well, regardless of the reason.
Her nose began to burn, her sinuses throbbing with incoming tears.
"Okay, alright." He rose, only to return with two Styrofoam cups that smelled dimly of weak black coffee, "Here. Come on. You need to warm up."
She reached for the coffee but froze when Jasper grabbed her wrist. "Holy shit," the world was swirling around her, the floor reaching up to touch the ceiling and her stomach twisted.
She tugged her arm away loosely and looked askance. She tried to steady her violently shaking hands against her knees. Waves of hot coffee splattered over the cup's rim into a pool around her feet.
"It's fine." She snapped.
"Alice, holy shit, are you sick? Let me feel your forehead—"
"I'm okay, alright?!" She jerked her face away from his insistent gaze.
She was anything but alright. She felt like a bag of shit that someone had been beating with an aluminum bat for the past forty-eight hours. Her skin itched and red angry scratches littered her arms and neck.
In short, she smelled like vomit, could barely stand without needing to shit, and felt like absolute trash, but it was the only way she could see Bella. Drugs clouded her thoughts and turned the cyclical, obsessive patterns into blunted, puffy, opaque clouds. Alice could only hear Bella when she was sober, unsuppressed. That's when she heard whispers dancing through the fog of reality and truth, up and down through her mind…
It's the only way I can hear her.
"Alice, listen…"
"Yeah," She stood and set the now mostly empty coffee cup down, smacking her sweaty palms on her thighs once, twice, "Yeah, I know, business hours. Your dad and shit. I'm going,"
"No, actually, listen," Jasper scrambled to stand beside her and grabbed her shoulder.
She flinched.
He lurched back, "Sorry,"
"It's fine." It was not.
She stepped towards the door but he stepped in front and held one hand out, eyes bright and hopeful.
Kind.
Handsome.
She was going to puke.
"Alice, who have you been staying with?"
She blinked, "What?"
"Who do you live with right now?"
Her shoulders tensed, did he know about James? Had James come here? Was this a trap? Her eyes flicked to the closet in the back of the store.
"Please, it's okay, I just…" Jasper rubbed his forehead with one hand and let out a long breath, "Alice, I want you to meet someone."
"I have to find Bella," Regardless of where he was going with this conversation, she needed to get out. She needed to find Bella, but more so, at this moment, she needed to get away from the concern in his eyes before she puked and or her chest exploded.
"Yes, yeah I know, we will—I promise. She can help." He reached out, hands freezing a second short of her shoulders.
Alice froze, "…She?"
Relief plastered on his face as she stopped trying to push past him. He smiled hesitantly, "Yeah, she. I promise she won't hurt you. I just, she can help, okay? Please, give her a chance?"
"Yeah, whatever." Images of sweet, happy girls with blonde hair and clear eyes filtered through her vision. Small voices echoed in her ears, gently assuring her of her uselessness and unworthiness. Jasper would never want to take in someone like her, not when she was a glass vase teetering on the edge of the proverbial countertop.
The gentle whispers morphed into glaring eyes, staring at her across a tabletop as they counted individual dollar bills, damp from her sweat after standing out in the summer heat moving his 'merchandise.'
Alice shook the vision of James from her head. Her temples throbbed.
"How long until your girlfriend gets here?" She turned away and tried to keep her voice level.
The sound of his deep, light laughter surrounded her. Fury bubbled up to her eyes, tears peeking out from behind her lashes as she furiously swiped them away. Now he was laughing at her.
"She's not my girlfriend, maybe a grandma, but, no girlfriend." He grinned.
"Oh. Alright." She blinked and rubbed both eyes with her sleeves, still refusing to look at him.
Jesus. She felt like such a crazy bitch. Was this withdrawal, or a symptom of sobriety? Did all sober people feel so manic constantly, bouncing uncontrollably between highs and lows? She didn't remember, she didn't quite even remember sobriety at all. At least with drugs, she could control the oncoming emotions, at least she could control the dose—this was insanity.
But it was worth it, everything was worth it for Bella.
So Alice took a seat behind Jasper's store counter, where she stayed out of sight for the hours "until church ended," as Jasper had put it.
Because apparently church wasn't only a Sunday thing. Who knew.
As customers passed through the store, Alice enjoyed no average amounts of attention. People seemed to either see right through her or were unable to look away. On the occasion where their eyes met, she kept her gaze soft and even, attempting a small smile. In truth, she wanted to curl inwards and dive under the counter. What were they thinking when they saw her, unkept and red-eyed as she picked at broken strands of her hair? What did they think of Jasper, for letting her sit beside him at the counter?
Without intending to, Alice blew out a gust of air and shut her eyes.
"Hungry? We can take a quick lunch. Mrs. Esme won't be here for another hour or so, she's got clean-up and what not after group sessions."
Clean-up and what not. Alice tasted the words on her tongue. Lightning bolts of images flooded her mind, showing a short older woman with a kind smile. She seemed like the sort who would always have dirt under her nails—but everyone always blamed it on a penchant for gardening rather than uncleanliness. She wondered for a moment whether this woman was the aforementioned Mrs. Esme.
She would find out soon enough.
"I just, I don't know"—Alice chewed on her lip—"it feels so shitty, you know? Eating when I'm not sure where she is?"
Jasper nodded, pulling open the refrigerator behind the counter. Countless empty bottled rattled, dropping the sound right into Alice's stomach. She grabbed a fistful of her shirt as if to intimidate it against growling.
It growled anyway, loudly with wet gurgles that seemed to drown out all white noise in the small store. She could feel the blood rise to her cheeks as Jasper tossed her a yogurt.
"I'll pay you back," she promised.
"For an expired yogurt? No thanks. You're helping me clear this out. Dad's been on my ass to clean it lately anyway." He knocked a few empty mustard bottles aside and tossed them into the trash bin with surprising ease. There had to be at least six—who needed so much mustard?
"Besides," he continued, "If you want to keep walking around in the rain looking for Bella, you're going need to keep healthy."
He was right. She peeled back the lid and sniffed the yogurt suspiciously. "You're not trying to poison me, are you?" It smelled fine, but he had said it was overdue…
"Maybe," he laughed at his own joke before quickly backtracking, "just kidding—it's okay, seriously. Unless it doesn't smell right, I can grab a different one—"
It was Alice's turn to laugh. "It's okay, Jaz. I'm teasing. Christ."
A bright red butterfly blush wrapped his face before she realized what she had called him. He smiled. She set her jaw and focused on shaping her yogurt lid into a spoon, forcing the aluminum flat in her palm.
"I wanted to be a designer," she said suddenly. Jasper pulled his head back from the fridge to watch her carefully.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were just going to get on our feet but you start thinking week to week and it turns to day to day, second to second and time just slips out from under you—It just takes you out, a fucking slip-n-slide, I don't know how to take control, you know? How do you grab something like that? How do you take hold when you're just fallin', you know? I just, she was my stability and, shit, I just, fuck." The yogurt in her hands was shaking.
Jasper nodded. "I hear you," he murmured, "I don't understand, but I hear you."
Alice nodded.
Jasper hesitated, shifting closer to her. "Alice… do you… do you want a hug, or something? I don't know, I just,"
"No, no, sorry, no"—she reared back, knees tugged up to her chest—"Sorry, sorry I shouldn't have said anything, I'm fine thanks." Please don't come close, please don't hold me. Her skin burned with the fires of shame, self-loathing dripping down her veins from the I.V. that was her brain.
He stuttered an apology and sat back, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. They ate in an awkward silence, the only sound being Alice's aluminum spoon scraping against the plastic cup.
Time passed in a stiff fashion until the store door swung open with a clean, seemingly unassisted ease as a woman stepped through.
"Jasper," she smiled kindly and held out an arm. Jasper slipped behind Alice to embrace the woman on the other side of the counter.
"I'm sorry it took so long," she sighed, "thing's have been difficult since so many of our volunteers are out sick."
"I'm sorry, if I didn't have to be here I would try to help." An apologetic smile spread across his face, almost like he actually meant it. Did he actually mean that? Alice wondered. His pure kindness pierced her heart, conjuring images of Bella.
"This must be your friend." The woman held out a steady hand.
Alice stared at the dirt under her nails.
"Esme." She guessed.
"Yes, dear." Her rosy cheeks and glossy hair disguised her true age, every inch of her vibrating with energy. Alice could feel a sense of ease sneaking into her heart, despite her attempts to squash it.
Slowly, Alice placed her hand in the woman's—her movements jerky and unsure. She felt like a wild animal, is that what she looked like to others? A cornered animal?
Esme grasped Alice's small fingers between her own, meeting her eyes with an even look.
"My dear," Esme said, her every mountainous word standing steadily on Alice's aching bones, "everything is going to be alright, now."
And Alice believed her as, for the first time since she could remember, the voices and visions that layered over her mind and movements were finally silent.