A/N: I know that a lot of you felt like Jasper was being a moron in his last chapter. He was. He is also not quite done riding the stupidity train...
Jasper POV
I fucked up big time. I don't know why that surprises me, since I fuck up all the time, but, yeah. I fucked up big time. Quite possibly the biggest fuck up of my life, and I've had a lot of them.
There was a noise in the living room and I jumped, pressing myself under the blankets. The fridge. It was just the fridge revving up.
At Maria's house, I would have never been afraid of something so stupid. A fridge wouldn't hurt me. It was the people in the house I had to be afraid of. Now that I was living on my own, I shouldn't have to be afraid of anything. The door had both a key lock and a chain. I was safe.
So why was I more afraid then ever? Every little noise startled me, waking me up at night and making me afraid to leave the apartment during the day. I don't think that I've slept more then 5 hours at a stretch since I moved in.
I don't tell Rosalie that, though. She makes me call her every single day, so she can know that I'm still alive. I'm glad that she insisted, because it gives me an excuse to hear a familiar voice. She probably knew that all along, but Rose is really nice when she puts her mind to it, and she always tries to let me save face.
When she calls, I tell her about my job search (which isn't going well), what I cook for dinner (which does go well, because I'm a pretty good cook. If I wasn't, we all would have starved at Maria's place) and how I spend my days (mostly hiding in the apartment, but I lie about that, too.). The past few days, I tell her about Denali.
Denali is the cat that showed up the day after I did. According to my neighbor, he's been there for a long time. The people who lived above me moved out and left him last year, and he's been hanging around ever since. A few people feed him, and he has a little box in the basement for when it gets really cold, but he doesn't really belong to anyone.
He's not a very pretty cat. He's striped, but his fur is all scruffy and he always looks dirty. He's missing pieces out of both ears, either from fighting or frostbite. His tail is crooked, like someone slammed it in a door or something. He still has two eyes, but there's a white spot on one of them. It still works, I think, but maybe not very well.
Even so, I think he could have still found someone to take him in. People like ugly things that they can pity. But Denali isn't very friendly either. He's not mean, but he's not the sort of cat that sits in your lap, either.
But why should he? He had a family, and he probably loved them a lot. Then they dumped him and left him to fend for himself. I wouldn't be nice either. And, yeah, I do realize that I like Denali so much because he's just like me. We've both been abandoned by our families, and left to fend for ourselves. Well, the Cullens didn't exactly abandon me. It was more like I abandoned them, but my real Mom did. Even Maria abandoned me. She didn't come see me when I was in the hospital. I'll bet she didn't even ask about me.
That's kind of why I took him in. Someone, probably someone named Carlisle Cullen, is still putting money in my bank account, so I had a little extra to get him a litter box and some food. No one could remember his real name, so I picked Denali.
He's a pretty cool pet, and a lot easier to take care of then the little kids had been. He likes to sleep at the foot of the bed, and it's nice to have him around when I can't sleep at night.
Rose likes cats, so its easy to tell her about how Denali purrs when I scratch under his chin, or how much fun it is to watch him chase a string that I had tied to a feather I found outside. He's fun.
I take good care of him, too. I found a cardboard box behind the apartments, and put him in it to go to the Humane Society and get his shots and a check-up. He screamed the entire time and almost put a hole in the box, but now I know that he's about 6 years old and healthy. He could live for another decade, which is great. They told me that they could take him and put him up for adoption, but I wouldn't give him up. He's my cat now, and I know that I'm keeping him until he dies. I won't let him get passed around like I did.
"Denali. Come kitty." I'm pretty sure that you aren't supposed to call cats like you call dogs, but I didn't know the right way to do it, so I'm just making it up as I go along. Kind of like everything else I do.
Like I said, he's not very nice most of the time, but he doest like to cuddle when I'm in bed. He thumped across the floor and jumped up to lay on his pillow. The first night I let him in, he stole mine, so I had to give him his own. Luckily, Rose bought two when she went stopping. She bought most of the stuff here, because she said I would have no idea what to do. I think it was more that she didn't want me to waste any of my money on basic stuff. I petted him and tried to breathe slowly. Calm down, deep breaths. Count to 10, eyes closed.
Something clattered in the other room, and I couldn't stop the yelp that came out of my mouth. What was that? Denali hissed, which freaked me out even more. I might be a giant wuss, but even the cat heard something weird. I put my head under the pillow and prayed that whatever was out there would just kill me quickly and with as little pain as possible.
Did it ever occur to you that that noise sounded an awful lot like the DVD stack that you left way too close to the edge of the coffee table? Because I'm pretty sure that was what it was.
Ok, that was probably true. But what if it wasn't? If I had been at home, I would have made Emmett get up and make sure that everything was ok. No, not home. That place wasn't home, no matter how badly I wanted it to be. It was just the Cullen house. This apartment was my home now.
And it was always possible that the noise hadn't been the DVD's. It could be a person coming to hurt me. I couldn't hear any further sounds, but I don't know if I could have heard anything over the beating of my heart.
That did it. My pride by damned, I snaked a hand out from under the covers and snatched the cell phone off my dresser. I held down number one, and hoped desperately that she would pick up.
Rose answered on the second ring, just like she had been waiting for my call. "What's wrong, Baby?"
"I heard a noise in the other room. I think it might have been some DVD's falling over, but it might be something else." My breath was starting to catch, and I knew that I was seconds away from a serious panic attack. "It could be someone in the apartment and then what am I going to do?"
"Shhh, it's ok. Did you remember to put both locks on your door?"
Her calm question gave me something to focus on. I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter and mentally went over the night time routine. "Yes. I locked the turn one and the deadbolt."
"Then no one's in your apartment. Be calm, Jasper, no one's going to hurt you."
"Yeah." My heart was still beating hard, but at least I could focus again. "I'm going to be ok."
Shame flooded through me when I realized that I had just freaked out and called for help over a bunch of plastic cases. How was I ever going to do anything for myself? "Sorry I called you about nothing."
"It's alright. If you need anything at all, you call me. If I don't pick up, try Mom or Dad. If you don't want to call them, call Emmett. Don't ever, ever feel like you can't call someone if you need us."
Sure, she said that now. But in a few weeks, she wouldn't feel so strongly for me. She would start to forget what it had been like when we lived together. Pretty soon, she would pretend that she didn't hear the phone ring when I called. She would get tired of having to bail me out and then I would be in a worse position then before, since I would have gotten dependant on her help.
"How are you holding up in general? Is there anything you need?" Her voice was gentle and kind.
"No, I'm ok now." My heart was still hammering against my ribs, but not as badly as it had been. The adrenaline rush was fading, leaving me sleepy again.
"Are you sure?" I knew that she didn't believe me, but there wasn't anything I could do about that, especially since she was right and I was the one who was lying.
"I'm sure." Another few deep breaths, and I could feel my eyes getting heavy. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, ok? I'm falling asleep."
"Ok. Jasper?" Her voice had gone very soft, so soft I almost missed it. I hummed into the phone, and she rushed out with the last part. "Please come home."
"I can't." It was true. Even if Carlisle and Esme would have me back (and, as much as I hated to admit it, they probably would take me no questions asked), I couldn't go. I couldn't go because….
Because you're an idiot that doesn't like it when he's wrong. You want to prove that you're a big man who can do it all and doesn't need the Cullens or anyone else. But you do.
That, of course, was the problem. I wasn't making it on my own. The bills were paid, I hadn't burned the place down cooking, and I was remembering to take all of my medications on time.
But I've had two seizures since I got here, which is almost as many as I had the entire time I was with the Cullens. I don't know if it's because I'm stressed out all the time, or because I'm not sleeping, or maybe I just need my medication adjusted.
If I can't take care of myself, though, how am I going to take care of Alice one day? She can't spend the rest of her life taking care of me and my mental problems. I should be the one taking care of her.
Chauvinist pig. Maybe the two of you should focus on taking care of each other instead of you thinking you're going to do it all because you have a penis. This isn't about Alice, and you know it. It's about the fact that you're too scared to go crawling back, because you actually care if they take you in or not.
"Ok." Rosalie always knows when to back off. "Just remember that, if you change your mind, I'll come get you no matter what time it is."
That wasn't ever going to happen, but I didn't say that. I do love Rosalie like a sister, but I can't go back there, period. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, so I made a noncommittal noise into the phone.
"I love you, Jasper. Please don't forget that." She made a quick kissing noise into the phone, which I returned.
"Love you, too, Rosalie. I'll call you tomorrow, but it might be late. I have a job interview." That was a lie, but I didn't want to tell her the real reason. If I did, she would drive over tonight and smack some sense back into me. I did have an interview, but it was early in the afternoon,
Luckily for me, she bought the lie. "That's great! Try and get some sleep so you'll be ready. Bye, Jasper."
I mumbled out a 'bye' and hung up, feeling guilty. Denali shot me an evil look, which I gave him right back. Like he had any actual idea what was going on.
That didn't stop me from trying to justify myself to him, though. "I have to do it. If I can go there and figure this out, then we'll move forward and it will all be ok. Right?"
Again with the nasty look. I stretched my fingers out, and he rubbed against them. "Good kitty."
Even though I was beyond exhausted, I still didn't fall asleep until almost dawn. Three or four hours of sleep was pretty common for me, though. You would be surprised at how easy it is to get used to Emmett's snoring, and how much you can miss it when it's gone.
The alarm went off way too early, and I was too nauseated to eat any breakfast. The best I could manage was a granola bar so I wouldn't end up puking my pills back up on the bus.
Denali rubbed on my leg, meowing for food. At least one of us was happy to have breakfast. I got his bowl out of the sink and checked out the schedule for the day. Felix at 10. "Fucking Felix. I hate him."
As soon as I said the words, I felt bad about them. I didn't hate Felix. I hated that I had to go to Felix, and that it seemed like I was getting worse rather then better, but I didn't hate the man himself. He had compared what we were doing to cleaning a wound: yes, it hurt, but it had to be done. If he didn't clean away all of the infection and bad things, it would just end up festering until it destroyed the parts of me that were still healthy.
It didn't mean I liked it, though. I guess I should be a little more thankful, considering that Felix was the one who gave me my big idea. I just didn't know if I should tell him about it. He's got a way of making all me really good ideas seem like really stupid ideas. This may or may not be because a lot of them are really stupid ideas.
It was 9 already, which meant I had to get moving. I'm learning the bus schedules, and I can get myself around, but it's always good to leave extra time for anything. I was going to have to go straight from therapy to my job interview, and from my job interview to….the other thing I was doing today. I didn't like to even think the words, much less say them out loud. It seemed like chanting 'bloody Mary' in the mirror. The words held no actual power, but it's never good to take too many chances.
I made sure to dress nicely, both for Felix and for my interview. I know that he's not supposed to say anything about me to the Cullens, since I'm an adult now, but I can't help but be suspicious that he might let something drop. If I was clean and nicely dressed and at least looking like I was doing well, maybe he would tell them only good things and no one would worry about me.
Because I didn't want that to happen. I couldn't live with the Cullens, but I didn't want to hurt them either. They really were a great family, and I really wanted to fit in with them. It was nobody's fault that I didn't. Well, maybe it was mine. A little. Ok, maybe a lot. But what was done was done, and I had to live with my choices now.
Denali bumped his head on my fingers, and I gave him a quick scratch. He likes his breakfast right away, so I gave him a handful of kibble, then thought and gave him another one. "I might not be back in time for dinner, but I will come back, I promise. You and I are sticking together."
He purred and rubbed harder. I wanted to pick him up and hold him, but I was already dressed for the day and I didn't want to go to any of my places covered in cat hair. "Ok, cat, be good while I'm gone."
I packed my laptop, my ID, my pills and a granola in my messenger bag and headed out the door. I had gotten spoiled at the Cullens by getting to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted and it was time to cut back. I had already eaten breakfast, and this could count as lunch. It wasn't much, but it was better to be a little hungry now, and save the money I would have spent on lunch for something more important, like having a place to live. Carlisle's money would run out eventually, and I had to be prepared for when it did.
I had to be at the bus stop at 7:20 to get number 12 bus, which would take me about halfway to Forks. Then I switched to number 67, which dropped me off 10 blocks from his office. It's really not much of a walk, especially now that the weathers so nice.
By the way? If I took number 25 bus instead of number 67, I would be at the hospital in 15 minutes. Or, if I was feeling really ambitions, I could do a 34 to 72 to 111 swap, which would drop me about 2 miles from the Cullen house. But I try not to think about that too much. I just wanted to map it out, just in case.
Number 67 drops me off almost 45 minutes before my appointment time, but I never go anywhere but Felix's office. Forks is small, and people stare at anyone who doesn't belong. I used to, kind of, but now I don't. But that doesn't stop people from knowing who I am, and greeting me by name. It freaks me out that they know me but I don't know them.
It's the worst in Forks, but it happens sometimes in Port Angeles, too. They couldn't release my picture when I got hurt because of my age, but there are lots and lots of pictures from the trial. It's all kinds of fucked up, because I was 17 both times, but I can't stop it from happening. Most of the time people don't approach me (probably because Rosalie says I glare like a rabid wolverine when people get close), but I'm not an idiot. When they spend 5 minutes staring at me, then start whispering to their friends, it's pretty clear that I'm their new topic of conversation.
In Port Angeles, though, at least they only talk about how they saw that foster kid who got his brains bashed in. That's it. If it happens in Forks, someone might end up saying something to one of the Cullens and I don't want that to happen. I'm sure people are saying things about Carlisle and Esme, like it's their faults that I didn't stay. They're great parents and they didn't do anything wrong.
I'm always quiet and I never bother anyone, so I can sit in Felix's office before and after my appointment. Sometimes I sit there for a few hours, just so I can be somewhere familiar.
He probably makes notes about that in my file, but I don't really care. He can't legally show it to anyone else, and I don't want to see it. I already know that I'm fucked up, and I don't need to read a piece of paper telling me that.
The receptionist was new, which automatically made me shy around her. I managed to mumbled out my name and appointment time before scrambling off to the furthest corner and hiding behind my laptop. I liked to pretend that I was busy, but I wasn't doing much. I usually just open up a document and type random things. At first it was just so I would look like I was doing something, but it is kind of interesting to see what I type when my brain is thinking about other things. I always save the documents with the date and look over them later. If I don't understand myself, how am I going to understand anything else?
"Jasper? It's your turn." Felix was standing in the doorway, gesturing me inside. I saved what I was doing quickly and followed him to his office. For once, I actually had real things to talk about with him, and I was pretty sure that most of them were going to make him pretty unhappy.
I picked my favorite chair and sat down. Felix turned on his tape recorder. He's always subtle about it, but he's never hid the fact that he records our sessions. "What's new this week, Jasper?"
"I got a cat. His name's Denali."
"That's a neat name. Where did Denali come from?" He jotted some quick notes on his pad.
"I found him. His old owners moved away and left him, so I took him in. He's a good cat. I already took him to get his shots and everything. I'm a good owner to him." I could hear my voice rising and getting defensive, even though he hadn't accused me of anything.
"How do you like having Denali around? I have two cats of my own, so I know that they can be a lot of fun."
Sometimes I forgot that Felix was a real person, too, and that he had a life outside of this office. "I like him. He sleeps on my bed at night and he gives me someone to talk to. But he doesn't need me like a dog would, which is good because I'm going to need to leave him alone some when I get a job and go back to school." Or just got a job, but I didn't want to say that out loud. I really, really, want to stay in school and graduate, but that's looking less and less likely.
"And how are things going on the job front? Any promising interviews?"
"Kind of. I didn't get any of the jobs I applied for yet, but I have an interview today at a bookstore. That sounds like a good one." The hours were flexible, and the ad had made it pretty clear that there would be a lot of heavy lifting, which made me hopeful that I would mostly be sorting things in the back instead of interacting with the customers. "I'm going there right after here."
"How have the interviews been going? Are they stressful for you?"
Of course they were. Who likes a stranger asking them all kinds of personal questions and then judging them on how well they answered. And even though they legally couldn't deny me a job based on my seizures, but I'm not an idiot. There are lots of people applying for jobs, and I could see the clear 'no', in their eyes the minute it was brought up. It sucked, but there wasn't much I could do about it. "I hate them. They keep asking things that I don't know how to answer."
"That's common. They want to see how you handle some simple pressure."
"I know. It still sucks, though." I was used to pressure. Pressure was when you hadn't seen Maria in three days, there was no money in the house, and you had a loaf of white bread and three slices of baloney, and 6little kids staring at you and expecting food. Pressure was having a social worker pulling you aside at school, and asking you why some kid in gym class had seen bruises on your back. That time I had lied and said I got into a fight with Peter. I knew Pete, and I knew that he would gladly back up the lie if they pulled him out of class as well. Pressure was looking Carlisle and Esme in the face and having to lie convincingly about being able to stay with them forever.
"You look nice, though. Just remember to speak calmly and not get yourself too worked up."
"I know. You're kind of making me more nervous right now. Can we talk about something else?" If I asked politely, he never turned me down.
"Of course." He moved on to his other usual talking points. How was taking care of myself going? Did I have enough money? He always had suggestions for services and such that I could access, which I appreciated. Because, let's face it, I needed all the help I could get. I like Felix, and I do think he goes above and beyond for me, which is kind of nice.
Still, I waited until the session was almost over to ungracefully blurt out my plans for later in the day. "After my interview today, I'm going to the jail to visit Maria." It was like word vomit. I couldn't hold it back.
Therapists pride themselves on not reacting to what a client says, so I knew that I had really hit him hard when his eyes widened and his body stiffened. A small part of me was obscenely proud that I had shaken his façade. But his voice was as bland as ever. "Do you think that's a good idea?"
"Yes." No. It was either the smartest idea I had ever had or the dumbest, and I went back and for the between the options hourly. But lying to Felix was a spectacularly stupid idea, so I modified my comment. "I don't know. I don't want to have to see her. I would much rather she just stay in jail for the rest of her life. But I feel like I have to. I have to know why she did what she did. If I don't…." I stopped because I didn't know how to express what I was really feeling. Some of it was fear that if I didn't understand what had made her hurt me, I might end up hurting Alice or our kids one day. But that wasn't the biggest part. Problem was, all the other reasons were so tangled up that I couldn't sort them out. All I knew was that if I didn't do it, I would regret it for the rest of my life. "I don't know what I'm trying to say. But I have to see her."
"I assume that you've already made arrangements?"
"Yeah. It was easier then I thought it would be." All I had needed was to request a visit, and bring proof that I was over 18 and a legal adult. If I had known it was that easy, I would have done it before now.
"It was easy because she agreed to see you as well. If she had refused, you wouldn't have been able to see her."
"Oh. I didn't know that." It had never occurred to me that Marias opinion on this mattered. I had just thought that since she was in jail and being punished, she had to do whatever I wanted her to. You know, the opposite of how things were when I lived with her.
Felix nodded. "She must want to see you as much as you want to see her. What do you think about that?"
"I don't know. Give me a minute to think about it." I knew I sounded snappish, but I couldn't help it. "We don't know if she really wants to see me, or she's just so fucking bored there that even I'm interesting."
Sick as it was, I couldn't help but wish that it really was that she wanted to see me. For fuck's sake, she almost killed me! She abused me for years, and if Peter hadn't called 911 and gotten me help, I would have died. She never loved me, or acted anything like a parent should. I shouldn't be feeling strangely excited at the thought that she might care a little tiny bit after all.
But I was. If she cared, and the Cullen's cared, and especially Alice cared, there must be something alright about me after all. Felix gently got my attention back. "What are you planning on discussing with her?"
"I want to know why she did what she did to me. I want her to see what happened to me after I left her house, the good stuff and the bad stuff."
"What do you think that will accomplish?" He wasn't being mean, even thought it kind of sounded like he was. He was making me slow down and think about what I was doing, so I could be prepared when the actual moment came.
Didn't make it not fucking annoying, though.
"I just…she's probably going to spend the rest of her life in prison. The judge gave her 25 years minimum. But she could be there a lot longer and I would be happy if she was. She got a life sentence, but so did I. I can't drive a car, at least until my epilepsy is way better controlled. I can't join the army. I'm going to have scars on my brain for the rest of my life, and I did absolutely nothing wrong. I want her to see that, and know it. I don't know if she'll care or not. But I do. She ruined my life, and she needs to know it."
See, this is why I still go to Felix. I didn't even realize I was having half of those thoughts until I said them to him. But that didn't make them less true. He's really good at untangling what I actually mean and helping me understand it.
He nodded again. "I think that you being able to talk to her is a wonderful idea and could be very healing for you. I do have concerns about you doing it right now though. You've been through so many changes in the past few weeks that I would rather you take a bit longer to sort that out before you add on any more stressors. What would you think about pushing it back a few months? It's not like she's going anywhere."
"No. It has to be now." It had taken me until now to have the balls to even be able to call the jail and make the appointment. If I wimped out this time, I would never get the courage back. "I'm not changing my mind on this one."
I could tell that Felix didn't like that, but he didn't try to force me to change my mind either. "If that's your decision, I hope that you get the answers that you're looking for. But will you do me one favor? I would really like to pencil you in in a few days. I don't want to wait a week on something this huge."
"Ok." I didn't want to admit it, but I was grateful for the offer. I'm not stupid enough to think that there won't be a serious emotional fall out from this, and I don't really have anyone else to talk to. Rose would drive over and choke me herself if she knew I was even thinking about it, and I wasn't exactly on speaking terms with the rest of the family. "I'll come on any day that works."
"We'll get you set up before you leave today. Have you spoken to any of the Cullens?"
I squirmed. "I talk to Rose every day."
"How about Carlisle and Esme?"
"Yeah. I talked to Esme one time, but I made her cry and I had to hang up." I looked down, because I knew that I was being a jerk to them. I wasn't calling them because I was ashamed of my behavior towards them, and I didn't know what to say. I never meant to take advantage of them, but they probably thought that I had. I would probably think the same thing if our positions were reversed. "I don' t think they want to talk to me."
"Did Rosalie tell you that, or are you just assuming? Because I think Carlisle and Esme would be really excited to hear from you. They're worried that you're not doing alright on your own."
"Well, I am!" I could hear the slight shriek in my own voice, which served to flat out tell him that I wasn't doing ok at all. "They need to quit being so nosy. I'm not their kid anymore."
Felix gave me that therapist look. You know, the one that says to calm down because you're acting like an idiot? Yeah, that one. I made myself at least look calm so that he would think I was better. I don't think I fooled him, but he continued on. "Carlisle and Esme are not being nosy. They want you to have the best chance of success, and that can only happen if you're able to take care of yourself properly. It's a tall order for someone your age, even without your extenuating circumstances."
I know that he's only trying to help, but I don't want it right now. When I need some help, I'll ask for it.
Or die with your pride on. But, whatever.
I know. I know that everyone is worried for me, and that they aren't doing anything out of nosiness or spite, but I just can't handle it. Its terrifying for me to know that people want to help me just to help, with no ulterior motives. I've never had anyone want to do that, and I don't know how to act now.
"I'm trying as hard as I can." I hated how whiny my voice sounded.
"And you're doing a wonderful job. Better then the average 18 year old, certainly. But it's very hard to do what you're doing at all, much less without a support system."
I picked at my sleeve. "I'll call them." Maybe. If I had time tonight. Or if I finished what I needed to and it was still early. Or if Mercury was in retrograde, or however you said that stupid thing.
He wanted to push the matter, but luckily the alarm on his desk beeped, which meant that my session was over. I tried to smile at him. "I'll see you next week, ok?"
It was a good try, but he shook his head. "Tell Jane that you want my fill in slot for Thursday, and to make sure she calls you with a reminder so you don't 'accidentally' forget."
Damn. I nodded and dutifully went out and repeated his words to Jane, who nodded and made the appointment. I was glad that it was her, and not the strange woman who had been at the desk when I came in. She smiled at me. "See you in a few days, sweetheart."
"Ok." Luckily, I had to catch the bus right away so I could be on time for my interview, so I had a ready made excuse for rushing out the door. I already couldn't find a job, and I wasn't never going to get one if I was late for the interview.
While I was on the bus, I went over everything that I needed to remember for my interview. Make eye contact, but don't stare and creep them out. Firm handshake, whether you actually want to touch him or not. Be interesting. I could tell some really interesting stories, but I'm pretty sure that no one actually wants to hear about the one time that Peter and I had to fight off an angry bird while we were dumpster diving behind the grocery store to get some food. He says that it was a hawk, but I think it was a plain old vulture. Who ever heard of a hawk with a long naked neck? Maybe I should think of a different story to tell.
I made myself stand straight and confident when I walked through the doors of the bookstore. It was a small place, and I liked the way it smelled. It was like a library, which was one of my favorite places in the world. The lady behind the desk was older and looked nice. Still, it took me two tries to ask for Mr. Volterra, who was the manager and the man who would be interviewing me. Not a great start, Jasper.
"Jasper?" A tall man was standing in the doorway. I nodded, already feeling like I might throw up. "Come on in, then."
I sat down, already forgetting what I had gone over on the bus ride. "Hi, I'm Jasper."
"Hello, Jasper, it's nice to meet you. Can you tell me a little bit about yourself?"
I wanted to tell him that he had probably seen me on the news, and that would tell him everything that he needed to know. But it would also tell him everything I didn't want him to know. "I just turned 18 years and this is my first job. I love books, and I'm very organized, so I though that this would be a good job for me." Was that good? Was that what he wanted to hear?
"First job, huh? What hours are you available to work?"
That was a test. "Any of them. I really need full time hours, though, because I'm out on my own and I have bills to pay."
"Are you planning on staying in school, or have you already graduated?"
I've always been able to tune into people's emotions. Knowing what Maria was feeling on any given day could be the difference between getting some money for the kids or just getting a busted lip. Something had majorly changed here, and I felt like it was a good thing. "I'll be a senior this year, and I really want to stay in school."
"Is your family going to be able to help you during the school year?"
They probably would if I would call them. Except the Cullen's weren't my family because I had gotten rid of them. "I don't have one. I'm foster kid who aged out of the system." It wasn't exactly the truth, but it was close enough.
"I see. Come on, I'm going to show you around the store."
It was a small store, but I liked it. He showed me how to shelve the books and took me behind the counter to show me the cash register and how it worked. It was a little confusing, but I was able to do at least two sales correctly. He smiled at me. "Good job, Jasper. The register is the hardest part."
The way he said it made me really hopeful that I had a job. I tried not to get flustered. "Um, when will I know if I got the job?"
"I think you did fantastic today, Jasper. I have one more interview today, and I'll be able to let you know by tomorrow afternoon at the latest, alright?"
"Ok. Thank you for your time." This time I remembered to offer my hand to shake.
Usually that would be all I could handle for that day, but I still had things to do. I was an adult now, and I couldn't stay home and play with the cat. I sat down at the bus stop and made myself breath evenly. This was no big deal. I had faced this woman every single day for more then four years. I was older, better, and stronger then I used to be. She would be on the other side of bullet-proof Plexiglas and I would only be able to talk to her on the phone. She could in no way hurt me.
So why did I feel carsick even though I wasn't on the bus yet? I was better then this. Stronger then this. What would Rosalie do in my place?
Ok, Rosalie would either bring a firebomb or be smart enough not to do this in the first place. But she would be tough and not let anyone see her upset. She definitely wouldn't be getting ready to throw up before she was even in the building.
The bus ride took forever. Which only made me more nervous. If I was late to the prison, they might not let me see her. Then what would I do?
I was 10 minutes late and had to race up the hill and into the prison. Luckily, they let me go in, but I didn't have any time to prepare myself for what was going on. One of the jailers took me over to the visiting area, which was exactly how I expected it would look. "You go to number three. You have 20 minutes to talk to her. If she hangs up, or you hang up, the visit if over. When time is up, you stay sitting. Someone will come get her, and then you can get up. Future visits are scheduled at the front desk. Got it?"
"Got it." There weren't going to be any more visits. I just had to know what had gone wrong between us.
I sat down and folded my hands in my lap so no one could see them shake. Maria feeds on weakness, and if I showed her fear right from the start, I was sunk. The door on the other side opened, and Maria walked through.
I haven't seen her since the trial, and my body automatically clenched. She didn't smile at me, and I didn't smile at her. She picked up the phone, and I did the same. "Hello, Jasper."
"Hi." My voice was thin and small and I told myself to man up. "Um, how are you?"
"I'm in prison. How do you think I am?" Her voice wasn't nasty yet, but I could see the thunderclouds gathering in the distance. "It's not a day at the beach. Or a day in the Cullen mansion."
I kept my face still so that she couldn't see how much her comment hurt. "I'm not living with the Cullen's any more. I have my own place."
"So, they dumped you when the checks quit coming. At least I would have let you stay."
"Only because you needed me to take care of the kids for you." It came out meaner then I thought it would.
"Don't be silly. If I was desperate for childcare, I would just use Peter. I would have kept you because I loved you."
She had a lot of nerve. "You almost killed me! If Pete hadn't called 911, I would have died before you came home." Even now, I can hardly believe how close I came to losing my life that night.
"I know." Her voice was very soft.
Wait, did she just….she had. She had just admitted to hurting me right to my face. "You do?"
"I do. I didn't mean to hurt you the way I did." Her eyes looked so sad when they met mine.
I was stuck. I never thought that she would admit to what she did to my face. I know that she did in court, during sentencing, but I had been home sick. Esme thought that I had the flu, but the truth was that I made myself throw up so that I would get to stay home. I didn't want to see her get sentenced, no matter what she did. She was my Mom for four years, even if I never actually called her that.
"But you meant to hurt me. What did you think was going to happen when you hit me with a fucking poker?" It was an effort to get the words out.
"I didn't think. It was just there and I grabbed it. I didn't plan to hurt you with it, I swear."
Should I believe her or not? She lies all the time. But what purpose would it serve now? She had been convicted and was in jail, and that wasn't going to be changed by pretending she hadn't done it. "Did you not plan to hurt me any of the other times either?"
"Honestly? Usually I didn't. I would see that I had hurt you or scared you, and I would think to myself that I would never do it again. I would try and figure out all the ways I could do things different. But then you would act up again, and I just went right back to it. You were always a good boy, Jasper, and you deserved better."
"Five years. You couldn't figure out how to do better in five years?"
"I tried. But you were so hard headed. If I just told you to do something, you would glare at me and not move. If I wasn't rough, you blew me off."
As much as I hated to admit it, I knew exactly what she was talking about. It was true that I only listened to Maria out of fear of what she might do to me. I ran the house and took care of the kids, which made her superfluous in my mind. So yeah, I didn't respect or listen her.
"See!" She slapped hand down on the table and I couldn't help but flinch back. A quickly moving hand has never been kind to me. "That face is exactly what I'm talking about. You stare at me like you're my superior and you're not. You're a child and I am the adult."
But I wasn't. I was an adult now, too. That had to make me her equal. No, I was her superior. I was younger, but at least I knew that you don't hurt kids. She was in jail and I wasn't. I didn't have to afraid of her.
She seemed to realize that she had pushed things too far, and visibly got herself under control. "I'm sorry, Jasper. I shouldn't have hurt you in the past, and I didn't mean to scare you now. I was wrong."
"My skull was fractured. Do you know that they pulled 17 pieces of it out of my brain?" I held up my hand, showing her where the pinky was permanently bent. It's not that noticeable, but it's there. "It doesn't really move any more. I can curl it up, but it doesn't straighten all the way out. I have epilepsy now. I can't drive. I can't join the army. Six more months, and I would have been gone anyway. But you couldn't wait that long. You ruined me."
I kept staring at her face, watching it get brighter and more blurry as my vision swam in and out. She was saying everything I had wanted to hear her say. That the problem wasn't me. That the problem had never been me. It was her all along, and there was nothing wrong with me. At least not in the beginning. There was plenty wrong with me right now.
"I need to go." I slammed the phone down before she could respond, and held my hand up for the guards to come get me. Wait, was I supposed to do that? My brain spun, and I couldn't remember.
I took deep breaths and tried to focus. I had done a good job. I hadn't freaked out, I hadn't cried, and I hadn't seized. I had been in control and acted like an adult. I had done exactly what I intended to do, and that was something to be proud of.
I must have looked like Hell, though, because two different guards tried to get me to stay a little while and calm down. It was only after I insisted that I wasn't driving and that I was a grown man that they let me leave.
Denali chirped cheerfully at me as I came in the door, but I could barely make myself touch him before I collapsed into bed, fully clothed. I just couldn't any more today. I wanted to go to bed, and snuggle with the cat, and try and sort out what had happened today.
Since I'm pathetic, though, I just pulled the covers over my head and cried instead. Maria had said and done absolutely everything I had fantasized about. That it was her, not me. I wasn't bad, I wasn't ruined, and she had had no right to treat me the way she had. I could move on, and fix myself, and be the man that Alice deserved.
But I wasn't happy. I might be brain damaged, but I'm not an idiot. Maria was saying everything I wanted to hear, but that didn't make any of it true. She thinks she knows me, and maybe she does, but I know her, too. Which means I know when she's lying. And that? Complete bullshit.
I had been frazzled at the jail or I would have realized all of this there. Sure, she was already convicted, but that didn't mean that she had nothing to lose. Her tearful admissions showed remorse, and it showed a desire to better herself. Everything that we said was monitored and could repeated back at her future parole hearings. It certainly behooved her to make a tearful scene.
Besides, Maria didn't tend to strike us out of anger. The first slap or kick, maybe, but it was never just one. She seldom hit my face or arms, and usually only aimed for the head if she was sure that there would be no school or social worker visits in the few days after. Can't have one of the kids passing out or staggering around like a drunk in front of company, now could we?
She didn't abuse us out of rage, or frustration, or because I gave her the stink eye one too many times. She did it because it worked, period. It's a lot easier to use your fist then keep putting someone in time out until they stay.
But I had learned something today, even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear. Maria wasn't going to change. She was out for herself, even now. She might have loved me (and I really do believe that she does, in her own way), but she loved herself more. Her love was conditional, a spider web that tangled and trapped.
I couldn't trust her. I guess I always knew that, but it still tore at my heart. If you don't count my own mother, she's the one who had me the longest out of my entire life. To know that I couldn't believe anything that she was saying made me feel like I couldn't draw breath.
Denali pressed against me and purred. It was nice, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't wipe my tears away, or give me a hug, or do any of the things I would have gotten from another person. Even Emmett would have reached down and patted my back.
I scrubbed my hand roughly over my face. Laying here and pitying myself wasn't going to accomplish anything. So I had been dealt a raw hand in life. Lots of people are dealt raw hands, and they turn out ok.
I was just going to lay down for a few minutes and take a nap. Then I getting up, acting like a man, and doing what I needed to. Maria was a wash, and I wouldn't go there again.
That didn't mean that there wasn't another family, though. I still haven't completely sorted out my feelings for the Cullens, and I can't talk to Carlisle or Esme again until I do. I know how badly I hurt them, and talking to Esme the first time had been a horrible mistake.
So it was decided. Nap first, then dinner, then figure out what I was doing right, and what I could be doing better. I would worry about the Cullens tomorrow. Or the next day. Or maybe never.
Yeah. Never having to think about it sounded pretty darn good to me.