"If you're going to stay with us, we need to need the whole truth. We have to make sure that we can trust you," Carlisle says, emphasizing the importance of this with his leveled gaze. The last thing I want is another group of vampires after me. "For one thing," he continues, reaching behind him to grab a notebook and a pen off of the sideboard, "you do not look fifteen to me. And trust me; I've seen many fifteen year olds in my time."
God, this is so embarrassing. I sigh, and fiddle with my hands. "Ask away, doc," I say, and at the word 'doc', he smiles. I like it when I can make people smile, and I feel a bit better about lying to them.
"How old are you, really?"
"Eighteen. I lie to people and tell them I'm fifteen so I can gain their pity. No one wants to help an eighteen year old out, since we're 'adults' and all." I use air quotes for 'adult' which makes Rosalie grin. I smile back at her, and decide to gain her trust first. She seems like a powerful ally to have in this family.
"I can understand that," Carlisle says, and scribbles down something in his notebook. I figure he is taking notes. "Do you have any special powers?"
"Yes!" I say, eager to talk about something a little less shameful. "I can read auras. Not like, 'Oh, your spirit color is laaaaaavender' sort of crap, but personalities. I can reflect emotions too." At this, I see Jasper stiffen. No doubt he is thinking of the way I made him panic earlier. Carlisle's eyes widen. "We've never encountered that before. It's very rare, actually unheard of. Can you tell me something about my personality?" I can tell he is genuinely interested in me. Chalk it up to scientific curiosity. I close my eyes and let my senses focus on him alone.
"You love art," I say after a few seconds. "In fact, you're an art collector, aren't you? You've been around for a very long time, watched a couple of people working in their studios… Bernini!" I shout, and everyone looks at me with dumbstruck expressions. Nobody knows what the hell I'm talking about, except for Carlisle. He is struck silent. I look at him excitedly. "You collect Bernini works! I love Bernini!"
Nobody says anything. It's clear I've made an impact. Carlisle shuts his gaping mouth and slowly says, "Yes, I do enjoy Bernini. Very much." Esme laughs and grips his hand. "I think we have a keeper," she trills, and looks at me lovingly. My heart leaps into my throat as the possibility of me staying, of them wanting me to stay, becomes a near reality. "How do you do that?" he asks, and I laugh. "How do you think?" I reply. "It just comes naturally as smiling." At these words, I catch Jasper grinning to himself across the table. I almost smile back at him before remembering that I wanted to slay him earlier. We look at each other, no one saying anything, just memorizing each feature as if we will never see each other again. We might not.
"Anyway," Carlisle continues, and I am drawn back into the present. "What about your diet?"
At first I look at him like he's asking me if the sky is blue. "Obviously, I drink blood. Like all vampires." And then I stop myself. Because vampires who drink blood always have red eyes, but there are no red eyes to be found around this table. "You guys are vampires, right?" This elicits chuckles from all sides. Carlisle's eyes sparkles when he laughs and I find myself trusting him. "We chose to drink the blood of animals, dear. It helps us blend in with the humans in the town." I honestly can't believe this. "You actually interact with the humans?" I question. How do you even do that without eating them? Esme nods. "We try to live as normal a life as we can, and Carlisle works at the hospital in town. All of our 'children' to the local high school, and play through the charade until it's time to move towns." I nod, and see how that could work. The self-control of this family must be enormous.
"Moving on: your heart beats. Why? How?" Now the mad scientist is reemerging from Carlisle, who spreads his hands on the table. I glance down at my hands, and weave my fingers together. This is the question that I really wanted to avoid. If I could blush, my face would have been cherry red. I can only answer this question in part without telling the whole story of how I met Jasper. I sigh, and look at Carlisle. "When I was changed," my eyes glance over at Jasper involuntarily, and he guiltily stares down at his reflection in the polished tabletop, "the venom didn't spread all of the way to my heart." Jasper's head snaps back up, and looks at me torturously.
"You didn't die?" I hear Carlisle ask, but I'm not at the table anymore. I'm in the mud at night, behind a van that I had dragged myself behind, trying to stifle my cries of pain, painfully hot pain, hot as fire in my veins, huddled into the fetal position. My tears streamed down my face, falling into the mud that had accumulated through the frequent rains. A heroin needle lays two feet from my face, and I briefly ponder how I could use it to kill myself. It's day four of the pain, and I try to keep myself from going insane by not thinking about the boy I had fallen in love with attacking me to the point of death. And why he left me here to die. I feel the familiar twinge of heartbreak in my stomach and I am pulled back to the present by the sharp sound of a crack on the table. Jasper had slammed his fist down on Esme's beautiful dining room table and snapped it clear in half. His face is both stormy and pained. I forgot he could feel my emotions. As he looks at me, I can see the tears that will never fall welling up in his eyes. I freeze because I don't know what to do. I try to speak, but all that comes out is strangled by the frog in my throat. "Why didn't you just kill me?" I say, a small tear escaping out of my eye. I am briefly impressed by this. It takes a lot of emotion to bypass the thin layer of venom in my eyes.
"I thought I did," he says, and this breaks my walls down completely. Everything I had assumed about this boy, this man, was wrong. I had deluded myself into thinking that he didn't mean it over the years, and how I would make him suffer for his accident. I wanted to teach him a lesson, and have him beg for me to forgive him and take him back. I realized that I never knew him at all. I feel a bubbling inside that sends of panicked warnings to my brain to calm down!, but through my fury I can't stop myself. I snap my head up and kick my chair out from behind me. I hear it hit the wall and break, and the sound is strangely satisfying. In two seconds I have Jasper pinned at the neck against the wall. He's a strong guy, and he could definitely take me out with one punch, but he doesn't fight me as I keep him in my chokehold. Instead of screaming, I look him dead in the eye, and lean in as if to kiss him. It's tempting, even through my fury, but as I bring my lips closer to his, I see his eyes cloud over with some strange emotion that I don't know how to read. I inhale slowly, and whisper across his lips, "I wish you had."
I immediately release him, and he slides to the floor, looking up at me with shock. I stand there, fists clenched, and stare down at him. Two more tears slide down my cheeks and land on his hand. I turn towards Carlisle and the family, who are all standing back and watching me like I'm a ticking time bomb, which I suppose I am. I wipe my face and stare at Carlisle mournfully. "I'm sorry Carlisle, I don't think I could be a part of your family," I say, and I hear Jasper groan behind me. Esme reaches out to me, but I back away slowly. This sign of distrust makes her face crumble into a frown, and Rosalie crosses her arms and glares daggers at Jasper, who is still sitting on the floor behind me. I sigh and walk out of their house calmly, before collapsing into a wailing heap on their front porch. The pain is too much, and I feel my breaths becoming shallow as I begin to hyperventilate, and I know what's coming. I black out when I am overwhelmed, and as the darkness begins to creep over my vision, I feel cool, gentle hands pick me up and cradle me to their chest. Esme's motherly voice is the last thing that registers as she coos, "It's okay, you're safe with me." But I will never be safe as long as my killer is around. I am dragged under by the pain that comes with the realization.