A/N: Sorry again for the long delay. I promise I do work really hard on this story, but it's the most difficult one that I write, and requires the most research, so it takes the longest to get up and running. I do read every single review, and love all of the encouragment you gusy give me!
Jasper
The air around us was electrified, making my stomach churn with fear. I should have known that he would find out eventually, no matter how hard I tried to keep it a secret. I was done for. At the bare minimum, I was out of here. Worst case scenario? I left in another ambulance. I cringed down into the chair, trying to make myself as small as possible. "I didn't mean to." Even I could hear how weak that sounded.
"What do you mean?" He was trying to keep calm, but I could tell he was pissed. Not only that, he was suddenly afraid of me. I was already afraid of him, had been even before this latest confrontation, and I could tell that this wasn't going to end well. Desperately, I looked from side to side, hoping that Esme would appear to help me. Not that I thought that she wouldn't be just as angry, but maybe they would get distracted trying to figure out how to punish me, and I would be able to escape. No one came.
"Jasper, I'm trying to understand what happened, but I can't do that without your help. Please tell me." He tried to slide a hand under my chin so he could force my face up, but I flinched back. No matter how gentle he was pretending to be, he was angry, and gentle hands didn't tend to stay that way.
I closed my eyes and tried to make my body relax. If he was going to hit me, he would do whether my eyes were open or closed. Blows always hurt more if you were tense. Just stay calm and as still as possible, and it will be over eventually. My throat was so tight I could barely breathe, much less beg him not to hurt me.
"Jasper, hey!" Now his voice was sharp, and I forced my eyes open. He looked less angry, and more worried, which could end up being a good thing. "Are you all right? You spaced out on me for a minute."
No, I hadn't. I might have appeared to be out of it, but I was nevertheless fully aware of my surroundings. However, anything that took away some of his anger was fine with me. "I'm okay." Head down, voice soft. No eye contact, nothing that might provoke more anger.
Carlisle sat down on the sofa, which made him seem a lot less intimidating then he had a minute ago. He steepled his fingers in front of his chin, and I had to fight off a crazy urge to laugh. He looked just like a James Bond villain when he did that. "I don't want to make any judgments without hearing your side of the story. Why would you pull a knife on Maria?"
I wondered if I would ever hear that name again without flinching. After a few minutes of mental debate, I decided to give him the truth. "I didn't know it was her." I wanted him to believe me, to understand that I would have rather used that knife to kill myself then kill anyone else. I had considered it then, my fingers tracing over the silvery edge, but the thought of leaving all those little kids with no one to take care of them had stayed my hand.
He made a move like he wanted to touch me again, but thought better of it. "Who did you think it was?"
"Riley." Even talking about him made my ears start ringing. It suddenly occurred to me that Carlisle wasn't going to know who Riley was, so I hastened to clarify. Anything to try and stay in his good graces. "Her boyfriend."
"You didn't like him." He didn't sound surprised, just very sad.
I didn't like admitting this part, but I wanted Carlisle to understand why I had done what I had. "I was afraid of him. He was just . . . scary." That wasn't the word I wanted, but I was blank on the one I did.
"Did he do something to you?" For the moment, at least, the knife was forgotten.
No, not exactly. I shook my head. "He was really nice at first. He showed up around mid-November, and he cooked Thanksgiving dinner for us." I had done it myself the year before, only the turkey was still raw in some places, and I got in trouble. Big trouble, not just the usual kind. I decided to leave that part of the story out. No point in telling Carlisle everything. "He was always nice."
He didn't say anything to that, just waited for me to gather my thoughts and continue. I liked it when he did that, because I felt less pressured to just blurt something out. "I think he was a pervert."
That got his attention focused on me like a laser. "Why would you think he was a pervert?"
When you do your foster parent training, they teach you how to ask questions like that. This way it was really clear that he wasn't leading me into saying something that wasn't true. I'm not really sure why they worry so much about that happening, when the truth is usually much worse than anything that you can make up.
This was also the part where things got a little bit sticky. It wasn't one single thing that Riley had done that I could point at as being wildly out of line. It was just instinct that told me to stay clear of him, and keep the little kids as far away from his as possible. "He just . . . I don't know. I didn't like the way he looked at us."
Carlisle kept watching me, waiting for me to continue. "For Christmas, he dressed up as Santa and brought us presents. Nice presents too, like really popular dolls for the girls and action figures for the boys. Name brands. He even brought presents for Pete and me, even though we hadn't been getting Santa presents for a while. But . . ." This part still creeped me out, even years later. Plus, it was humiliating. And what if Carlisle didn't believe me?
I forced the last part out in a rush. "He wanted us all to sit in Santa's lap to get our presents. The way he smiled at Pete and me when he said it, he liked it, you could tell."
His blue eyes closed, as if he was steeling himself for what I would say next. I'm not stupid; I know the statistics as well as anyone else. Nationwide, one-fifth of all children are sexually abused before they hit the age of sixteen. The number for foster kids officially hovered around three out of four. From my unofficial polling of my foster siblings, I would put the number at way, way, closer to one hundred percent. I could have told him horror stories about the things my foster siblings had told me, but I didn't. Something told me that he already knew, and that he could tell me horror stories of his own.
"He never actually tried anything, at least not with Pete or me. In a way, though, it was almost worse. He had me so paranoid trying to keep all the kids away from him that I couldn't do anything. I couldn't eat, I barely slept. I never knew if he was going to be at the house or not, but it seemed like was there all the time." The memory of those days made me feel dizzy.
"Where was Maria during all this?"
Despite everything he had found out, Carlisle still seemed to think that Maria would eventually come to my defense. "She was there. Shit, she was taking pictures of all the kids sitting in Santa's lap."
He didn't bother trying to correct my language. We were beyond that right now. "Did you tell her about Riley?"
"No." Maybe I should have, but honestly, the thought had never occurred to me. Unless she was angry for some reason, Maria was sort of a nonentity around the house. I was the parent, and the cook, and the housekeeper, not her. "She wouldn't have believed me anyway. I mean, what was I supposed to say? 'He creeps me out'?" The thought was so ludicrous that it actually made me smile.
"Anyway, after a while, he started ignoring the little kids and really focusing on Peter and me. I guess he wasn't really a pedophile, just sort of creepy. He liked them young, but teenager young, not toddler young."
Carlisle had to interrupt me there. "A man who is attracted to fourteen- and fifteen-year-old boys is still a pedophile. It's still a man in a position of power using that power to manipulate boys too young to give proper consent."
Blah, blah, blah. I'd heard all of that before. What Carlisle was failing to see was that if there was a pervert lurking in the bushes, it was way better to have him looking at kids who at least stood a chance of fighting back than a three-year-old. If I said it, that would make me sound like a much better person than I actually was. I had stuck up for the little kids to Maria, and taken some of the blows when I could, but that didn't make me a good person. If I were really a good person, I would have reported Maria four years ago, the first time she decided to put her cigarette out on my forearm.
I was so busy mulling over my internal thoughts that I had lost the thread of the conversation. Carlisle hadn't, though, and he pushed me back in the present. "But we were talking about a knife."
Right, right, the knife. "I'm getting there. So, when Riley would come over, he would make little comments to me and Pete. Tell us how nice we looked, or he would put his hand on our shoulders or backs. Even if I was covered in baby spit-up, he kept saying that I was gorgeous." I stopped there, because words couldn't quite portray the hopelessness of the situation I had found myself in. Not to mention the creep factor of being stalked by a man twenty years older than you. My head was pounding, and I was suddenly unsure if I had taken my pills this morning. Please, God, don't let me stress myself into a seizure right here. All I wanted was for Carlisle to leave so I could lie down and rest.
"Then I woke up one night and he was in our room. He had knocked on the wall to wake us up, just so we would be sure that he had been there, and that he could get in any time he felt like it." My eyes blurred, but I wasn't going to give in to the tears. I needed to stay as alert as possible in these strange circumstances. All of a sudden, Carlisle, who had been nothing but kind, was acting as aggressive as Maria had. Not that I hadn't known it was coming, but it still bothered me. I had actually been starting to trust him.
He was leaning forward now, making me press back against the back of the chair. Usually he was really good about respecting my space, but the rules were different now. He wasn't thinking logically, so I had to. Anything could happen. His blue eyes bored into mine, and I knew that time was up. "Jasper, the knife." His voice was hard.
My tongue swelled in my mouth, so I blew out as hard as I could, forcing my airway open. Something told me that he wasn't going to have any sympathy for me and my plight. I understood. After all, he was just trying to protect his family against a potential threat. It was natural for him to want to keep them safe, and if I had to be removed for him to do so, so be it. I wouldn't judge him for that.
"After I saw him in our room that night, I figured I had to do something to protect myself. So I got a knife out of the kitchen. It was a little bit bigger than a steak knife, but not like a butcher knife or anything. I hid it under my pillow. I thought that if he tried to get in bed with me, that it would be the last thing he would ever try and use his dick for."
I was kind of aware that I was talking louder and louder, but I needed to make sure that he could hear me over the blood rushing in my ears. "When someone grabbed me in the middle of the night, I thought it had to be him, so I grabbed the knife and slashed at him with it. But it wasn't. It was Maria, and I came really close to cutting her, and I didn't mean to hurt her, I didn't want to hurt her, I swear, it was just that she scared me and I would have never done it if I had known it wasn't him and—"
Now I was babbling hysterically, but all of my carefully held control was gone, just like it had been severed with a knife. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, and everyone in the house could probably hear me, but I was finished. In the space of a few hours, I had managed to fuck up my own life, ruin Maria's, and tear this family into little pieces.
Carlisle seemed to soften, his body moving back from mine, but it was too late for that. I hadn't realized that I was crying as well, but tears had soaked the collar of my shirt and were drying in itchy trails down my neck. The actual sobs were trapped in my chest, and I forced them to stay there. There was no way I was going to let Carlisle know just how badly he had broken me.
"Carlisle!" The voice was female and absolutely furious. "Do you mind telling me why you're terrorizing my child?" Esme must have heard my screaming, and had come in without either one of us hearing her. "Come here, precious." Her arms were held out for me.
I went to her. Not because I really trusted her, but because she was currently the lesser of the two evils. Well, for the moment, at least. There was nothing to prevent her from turning on me as quickly as her husband had, but Alice was nowhere to be found and I needed someone to be on my side right now. Her arms tightened around me. "It's all right. Carlisle, what the fuck is wrong with you? I could hear the two of you screaming from downstairs in the living room. Do you really think that this is the appropriate way to ask questions of a kid?"
The shock of hearing Esme curse unlocked my chest, and the first strangled sob forced its way out. Great, now they were fighting because of me. "I'm sorry." Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew that there was no way she was going to be able to hear them.
Sure enough, neither one of them so much as noticed. Esme was still busy chewing out Carlisle, something that made me feel unexpectedly good. She was acting like a mother ought to. One hand rubbed gently at my back. "You know what? I'll deal with you later. Just go downstairs and make a salad. Jasper, you stay here."
If I had been able to think at all, I probably would have been impressed at the way she told Carlisle off. As it was, I was too busy trying to stop the damn babyish crying that my traitorous body insisted on doing. Esme kept patting my back. "Come sit on the couch with me."
She wouldn't be so nice if she knew why her husband did what he did. I wanted to tell her the truth, to shout it at her and see her perfect fantasy of who I was crumble. Then maybe she would just leave me alone. That I understood: being banished away from the rest of the family until I could get myself under control. Even a hard knock to the head and an order to quit sniveling would have been understood. But I was lost in the face of her kindness, which was probably why I was completely unable to control myself. In fact, her words were only making me cry harder.
I put my face against her shoulder, hoping to just suffocate myself and be done with it. No matter what I did or how hard I tried, I just ended fucking everything up. Esme was fighting with her husband, I had probably just sent Maria to jail, and Edward was too embarrassed to bring his girlfriend over to the house. He didn't think I knew that, but I did. The only time I was ever allowed to be around her was when we were in part of a larger group. I understood, of course, but it wasn't fair to him or Bella for him to be too worried to use his own house. The only thing I hadn't managed to ruin was my relationship with Alice, but I didn't doubt that I would. When you hung around Jasper Franklin Whitlock, it was only a matter of time.
All of these thoughts flashed through my head in an instant, but I couldn't do anything about any of them. Esme would find out the truth soon as soon as she talked to Carlisle. Undoubtedly, she would be furious, but, even worse than that, she would be disappointed in me. I just hoped that she and Carlisle would talk in private, so I wouldn't have to see her face when she found out.
The suffocation theory wasn't working out so well, but I was reluctant to move. I had no idea where Carlisle was, and I didn't want to have to face him either, so I just stayed where I was, my tears soaking through her shirt. If she would just take all of the responsibility off of me for one hour or so, I could make it. Otherwise, I was going to go crazy, sitting in on the couch in my foster father's study. Only I couldn't draw enough breath to tell her that.
Luckily, she got it without me having to tell her. She let me cry until I was down to the hiccups and choking noises before smoothing my hair back. "Can you tell me what happened?"
I shook my head once, just back and forth and she backed off. "He wouldn't have hurt you. I know that he scared the living daylights out of you, and I'm so sorry that he did that, but he would have never raised his hand to you. Believe me, though, he's going to hear about this later."
I still couldn't get my whimpering under control, but she didn't seem to mind it, so I just gave up and listened to her voice. "Sometimes Carlisle gets so caught up in things that he doesn't think before he speaks. He does love you, though, you have to believe me. He really does."
I wasn't so sure about that. I did know that Carlisle liked me just fine. He took the time to talk to me, and help me with things if I had trouble, but love me? Doubtful. I wanted her to feel like I was listening, though, so I nodded slightly.
She must have taken it as agreement, because she kissed to top of my head. "I love you, too, you know."
That I could believe. Esme was the sort of person who could love a rabid sewer rat if one was to show up looking for a home. She was just born to be a mother. Her every emotion was written on her face, and I could tell that she was telling me the truth. I didn't want to lie, so I didn't tell her that I loved her back. I liked her a lot, and I felt like I could actually grow to love her, but not quite yet.
I did like this, though. I liked being able to put my head down on her shoulder and not be pushed away or have her demand to know what my problem was. The hand that was still running up and down my spine was nice, too.
She didn't say anything else, just kept rubbing my back until I stopped crying. Now my head hurt and I had a bad case of the hiccups. I picked my head up and sighed miserably. I didn't have any idea what to say to her. Thanks? Don't be mad at Carlisle? Go away? All of those thoughts went through my mind, but none of them were what I really wanted to say.
Again, she stepped in for me. "Poor baby. Why don't you go rest for a little while? I'll call you for dinner. Or I could stay here, if you would prefer."
I really wanted her to stay, but her words reminded me that I wasn't the only one depending on her. If I kept her here with me, there would be no one to cook dinner and the entire family would go hungry. "No, I'll just go lay down." That sounded a little abrupt, so I gave her a shaky smile. "Thank you, though. Like, thank you a real, real lot." For everything.
I helped her up, surprised at how wet her shirt was. I hadn't realized that I had been crying that hard. Actually, I couldn't remember the last time I had cried at all. Not in the hospital, not during court, not even when Maria had burned my arm so badly.
She gave me a soft smile of her own, and I noticed for the first time that there were tear tracks on her face, too. Had I hurt her? Or was she just sad because I was? I probably should have asked, but I didn't. I was just so tired of it all that I couldn't make my lips form the words. Instead I forced myself to look away and drag my tired body down the hall.
I wanted my own room and my own bed, but all of the sheets were on the new mattress on Emmett's floor. The thought of going in there, stripping the mattress, and then making up the bed in my room was too much, so I just curled up here. I tried not to this during the day, because the room wasn't really mine. Emmett was being really nice to let me stay here at all, and I didn't want to do anything that might cause him to revoke his permission. I didn't even have the energy to undress, so I settled for taking my shoes and socks off and curling up with an old throw. Reflexively, I groped for Frank the kiwi, and found him buried at the bottom of the blankets. I always slept with Frank under one arm. He was a reminder of Alice, the one thing in my life that I hadn't fucked up. If I couldn't sleep with her, I could at least keep one of her presents close. As exhausted as I was, it only took seconds for me to fall asleep.
I woke up confused and groggy. The room had gone completely dark, except for a light in the corner by the bed. Emmett was huddled close to it, trying to do his homework in the dim glare. My limbs felt weighted down, and I panicked for a second, before realizing that I was under a heavy comforter. I pushed it aside and sat up.
Emmett looked over, his face breaking into a wide smile. "The dead has risen! Damn, I thought you were going to sleep right through until tomorrow!"
I struggled to make sense of his words. "Whattimeizit?" The words were slurred, but Emmett seemed to understand.
He looked over at the clock on the nightstand. "11:47."
At night? Had I really been asleep for eight and a half hours? "Huh?"
"Yeah. I tried to wake you up for dinner, but you barely moved. Just sort of flopped around. It was great. Then I made you sit up and you tried to punch me. So Mom said to just leave you alone." He stood. "Anyway, there's a plate in the fridge for you. I'll go get it."
When he got to the doorway, he turned on the overhead light and studied me. "You feeling okay? You look kinda bad."
I felt kind of bad, too. My headache hadn't receded completely, and my face felt stiff and hot. Not to mention my lingering disorientation. "I think I just need to wake up."
He nodded and went on downstairs before I could call him back. I felt kind of stupid being treated like an invalid when there was nothing wrong with me but a bad headache. But he was gone and I didn't want to risk waking up the rest of the family.
While I waited for him to come back, I went into the bathroom and washed my face. I looked flushed, and there were creases form where I had lain too long in one position all across one cheek. I was looking kind of rough. The cold water woke me up a little, and my stomach started to complain loudly.
Emmett was back in just a few minutes, holding a tray with two plates of food, two cokes and two glasses of milk. At my raised eyebrows, he hastened to explain. "Well, I thought you might be lonely if I tried to make you eat all by yourself. Brothers share." He nudged the Dixie cup I was just now noticing towards me. "Pills for you. Brothers do not share that."
With all of the drama of the day, I had completely forgotten them. "Thanks." I took them with a gulp of the milk, then changed my mind and drained the glass. Nothing in the entire world had ever tasted as good as that milk did.
Seeing that I was going to eat after all, Emmett grabbed his plate and dug in. "So, what happened? Mom spent all of dinner glaring at Dad, and Alice wouldn't even kiss him goodnight. She always kisses him goodnight. Did he do something to you?"
No, I'm just a colossal fuck-up, that's all. I ruin every family I get sent to. That probably wasn't the best thing to say, so I settled for a noncommittal shrug. "No, he just got in my face and scared me. Then I got upset and Esme came in and I was crying and she got mad at him. I guess she told Alice." I really wished she hadn't found out. Not just because I didn't want her to know about Riley and the knife, but because I didn't want to turn her against her father. That was a special relationship, and I didn't want to spoil it.
"Okay, how come he was in your face? Did the trial go wrong?" He was still chewing as he asked.
Honestly, I had been so caught up in the Cullen drama that I hadn't really had time to think about or process the Teresa drama. When I did, though, it was nearly enough to make my cry again. I had betrayed Maria, who had taken care of me for almost five years. Things had been bad a lot of the time, but not always. Sometimes we were more like a real family. "Yeah, it went wrong."
He sat back. "Did they not believe you? Did you choke? Tell me what happened, and we'll figure out how to fix it."
Emmett seemed to understand how to be a brother instinctively. He didn't ask if it was my fault, he just assumed that it wasn't. He and I were brothers by sufferings, and that made a bond maybe even stronger then one of blood. "I didn't choke, and I think that they believed me." Maybe. I hadn't been able to look at the jury box at all. I had only been able to see Alice, Carlisle, and Maria. My future, present, and past, all tied up in a neat little bow. "I just . . . it was hard seeing Maria again. I guess I never really thought that I would have to. I mean, I knew that she would be there, but . . . I guess I had hope that she wouldn't. Or that she would at least try and say something to me. But she didn't. She just gave me that 'You're in big trouble now, Jasper' look. She was just the same as before, even though she almost killed me."
As always, Emmett understood. "Sorry, dude." He took another few bites before he spoke again. "That's why I won't go and see my mom. I don't want to go and find out that she hasn't changed at all." He didn't look up as he spoke.
"Yeah, I wish I hadn't." There wasn't much more for me to say, so I focused on finishing my dinner instead. I was sopping up the last of my gravy when he spoke again. "Oh, Eddie wanted to see you if you woke up while he was still awake. He's probably still up if you want to talk to him. If not, I'll tell him you never woke up."
I didn't feel like I owed Edward the same way I did Emmett, so I took a few minutes to think about it. I was curious, though, and I finally nodded. He smiled. "Cool. I'll take the plates back downstairs if you want to go now."
"Thanks Emmett. You're, uh . . . you're a good brother." It was the first time I had referred to him, or any of the Cullens, as my family, and it felt a little strange to do so. Strange in a good way, though.
He gave me a grin that suggested he both appreciated my words and understood how difficult it had been for me to say them. "Of course. I mean, come on, I'm a prince among brothers."
His comment took the pressure off the moment and allowed me to smile back. "You're a prince among assholes." This was the sort of teasing I had missed, the sort I would have done with Peter.
"What can I say? I multitask." Emmett was a faster thinker then I was and I was forced to concede the point.
The hallway was dark when I went out into it, but I was familiar enough to navigate it without incident. After all, I had done it multiple times in my sleep. I hadn't made very many improvements with my sleepwalking, and for a period things had even gotten worse. Carlisle kept saying that it was no big deal, that it would resolve itself when it did, and getting upset about it would only make things worse, but I couldn't help but worry.
What if I hurt someone? Esme? Alice? Emmett said I had never been anything but gentle and calm during the many, many times he had been forced to chase after me, but I recognize both my own temper and the depths of my fear. I had elbowed Carlisle in the chest two weeks ago, when he tried to restrain me during a nightmare, and his chest was still bruised. He had been cool about it later, but if I could hurt him without meaning to, I could hurt anyone, including Alice.
Really, the best thing I could do for her would be to break things off right now, and allow her to find a nice normal guy. No, better then a normal guy, because she deserved perfection. Certainly she deserved better than me. But I was too selfish to let her go. I needed her in a way I had never needed anyone else, and I was going to hang on to her as long as I possibly could.
Edward's door was closed, but I could hear the soft music from inside. I tapped softly, not sure if I wanted him to answer me or not. In my experience, being singled out for a talk was never a good thing. Just look at me and Carlisle this afternoon.
As usual, luck wasn't on my side and the music stopped. "Come in."
His face relaxed when he saw that it was me instead of Esme, who would have told him to stop playing and go to bed. "Hey. How are you feeling?"
I was starting to suspect that I was going to be asked that question by every member of the family before tomorrow was over, probably multiple times. "I'm okay. Still kind of tired."
"Oh. I told Emmett not to wake you up. It's not that important." He shifted uncomfortably.
"He didn't." I was feeling a little awkward. Edward was always nice to me, but this was the first time he had really gone out of his way to seek out my company. It was unsettling, to say the least.
He started to shift again, then caught himself and held still. "Well, you see . . ." Hr stopped there and took a deep breath. "I got you a present. I was going to save it for your birthday, but I thought that maybe you might need a pick-me-up after today so I thought you might rather have it now. Also, it might need a little work, I'm not really sure." He gave me a hopeful look.
My mouth dropped open. I had seen some of the things that the Cullens considered presents, and I didn't want anyone spending that sort of money on me. But he had said that it might need work, so maybe this wouldn't be so bad. "Really?" My voice was embarrassingly excited, but, after today, I was getting very used to those feelings of humiliation.
He laughed. "Really, really. So, uh, do you want it now?"
The curiosity was nearly overwhelming. Back when I had been allowed to have Christmas presents, I had been the sort of person who would just tear into the gifts. I was more courteous now, but there was a certain thrill that never went away. "Yes."
He started to reach under the bed, the stopped. "It's not wrapped or anything, so you need to close your eyes."
I wasn't sure that I liked that idea. If my eyes were closed, he could do any number of things to me and I would never see them coming. But this was Edward, who had never given me any reason to distrust him. Of course, before this afternoon, Carlisle hadn't, either. Edward waited out my mental battle patiently, never pushing or saying a word. Finally, I closed my eyes and stretched out a hand. If it was shaking a little, neither one of us said anything about it.
There was a shuffling, and a sliding noise. "Two hands, Jasper. It's kind of heavy."
The instant he placed the case in my hands, I knew exactly what it was. My eyes flashed open, almost unable to comprehend what was happening. I ran my fingers over the rough case, staring at it in fascination. There was something inside, I could tell by the weight of it. I set the case down on the bed and flipped the latches. The instrument inside was absolutely gleaming. It didn't look like it needed fixing. Actually, it didn't even look like it had been touched.
Edward spoke up. "If you don't want it, Caius said he would take it back. I just thought . . . you said you played before, and maybe you might want to play again."
"I do. It's a great present. Thank you, Edward." I wasn't sure what else to say. Just 'thank you' didn't seem like enough, and certainly didn't express how grateful I really was, but I had no idea how to express what I really did feel. I didn't like to hug unless the situation was dire, and he probably wouldn't want to be hugged anyway. I just wasn't a fan of touching, unless it was Alice. I always wanted to be touched by Alice.
The boyish smile spread across his face, and I felt like he understood what I was trying to say. "It's cool. Maybe once you get it tuned up, we could play something together."
"Great." I touched the strings, running my fingers lightly across them. They were out of tune, but that could be fixed easily enough. I picked the guitar up and cradled it against my chest. "Thank you."
"Yeah, yeah." He grinned against and gestured to the door. "Listen, I hate to kick you out, but I still have homework to do."
Even though I knew that Emmett was still awake and waiting for me to come back, I took a detour and went back to my room to think. Edward had always been the family member I understood the least. Emmett and Rose were my friends, Alice was my girlfriend, and Carlisle and Esme were the parents. Those there all roles I understood (with the exception of the girlfriend part, of course, but I thought I was doing a pretty good job of figuring that out.). Edward, on the other hand, didn't fit anywhere. He certainly didn't have any power over me, and I wasn't about to date him, which should have put him in the friend category, same as Emmett and Rose.
But he wasn't. Even now, I couldn't force myself to fully trust him, or even to trust him much at all. We were acquaintances more than anything. We spoke, and did each other favors, abut that was about it. I would have defended him, and I thought he would have defended me, too, if it came to that, but we weren't friends. Except now he had done this. If this wasn't an offer of friendship, nothing was.
I supposed I could have consulted Emmett for his opinion, after all, he had never steered me wrong before, but it seemed a little strange to ask a question like that about his own brother. Ditto for Rose and Alice. Before today, I might have asked Carlisle, but I didn't think it would be a good idea to ask anything of him for a very long time. Maybe ever.
"You change your mind?" Emmett had approached without me hearing him, and was leaning up against the doorframe of my room. "'Cause I'm turning off the lights, so unless you want to stumble around in the dark or sleep in here, get your ass in gear." He looked past me, at the guitar on the bed. "Oh, is that what he wanted?"
"Yeah." I probably should have said more, but I was still so surprised that nothing was coming to mind.
"Cool. I know he's been saving it. So, is it a good one? Caius told him that it was, but Caius wouldn't know the truth if it bit him in the ass. At least not according to Rosie, and she had classes with him when she was a senior."
I snapped the case shut, gently laying it on the floor, so I didn't have to risk it falling off the bed. "It's one of the best. Edward picked out a really great present. I'm just not sure why he gave it to me."
"You'll figure it out. Come on, one of us has school in the morning." He put a hand on my back and pushed. "Let's go."
I went along, even thought I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. I had a hard enough time settling as it was, and it was nearly impossible for me to relax when I got all keyed up like this.
Still, my night vision sucked and I didn't want to risk slamming into any of the various objects scattered around Emmet's floor. "All right."
If nothing else, I could sneak back in here after he fell asleep. I couldn't play without waking the rest of the family up, but just being able to look at the guitar and touch it gently was enough for now.
I curled up on my mattress, making myself as comfortable as possible. I was scared, and tired, and still unsure about everything that had happened today. One thing was sure, though. I couldn't trust Carlisle now. Period. I could still trust Esme, at least a little. Maybe. After all, she was Carlisle's wife first, and the other kids' mom second, and my foster mom third. Distant third. So probably not Esme, either.
But I still had Alice. Emmett said that she was pissed at Carlisle, so she was picking me over him, at least for right now. It made me sad that they were fighting because of me, but I needed at least one person in the house on my side. Anyway, it as only for another few weeks. Then, I was out of here.