Chapter 3

I met and fell in love with Jasper Peter Whitlock in kindergarten. I used to chug my milk at story time; I never could stand warm milk. Jasper noticed and pretty soon we had a regular date – first the milk race (which I almost always won) and then sitting on the carpet circle shoulder to shoulder, our little hands clasped together to listen to the story. Back then, before my parents divorced and my grandpa dropped me like a hooker on Sunday morning, he used to take me ice skating every Friday night. It was the highlight of my week because Jasper's daddy used to bring him too. One night he gave me a bunny rabbit Shrinky Dink he'd made. It was connected to a yellow ribbon and I wore it around my neck every day until the loop broke. I still have it tucked away in a jewelry box in my room: a token from a time when love was as simple as little plastic bunnies on ribbons.

Some people probably scoff at the idea of falling in love at five years old. I scoff right back. I was certain that I was going to marry him someday, and I held onto that dream all the way through sixth grade. Of course, our romance only lasted through kindergarten. After that cliques started to form and lines were drawn in the sand determining who you could and could not date: the social hierarchy that would hold us in its grasp until after graduation. Still, I loved him from afar until towards the end of elementary school. By then I had begun to accept the reality that was my life. He was one of the golden boys and I was the poor girl with divorced parents and second-hand clothes paid for by state assistance programs. I was the easiest target for mean girls, because I was sweet and nice and I wanted to be liked so badly that I would forgive anything. I was never mean to anyone because I knew too well how it felt to be on the receiving end. I might as well have painted a big red bull's eye on my back. So I gave my dreams of Jasper up and I started looking at boys who were closer to my league.

By the time we both joined the Science Olympiad team in our junior year, I was able to just enjoy his company without the slightest twinge of desire for anything else. But we got along so well that I always had to wonder if maybe we couldn't have been something of a fairytale if I hadn't been so outcast by all our classmates. But of course this was all ancient history now. We were adults. He could shout my name across a crowded room with nothing short of absolute joy and there wasn't anybody around to judge him for it.

Still, knowing that didn't stop my natural reaction to scan the room for disapproving snobs, and I had to push that shit away. I smiled my full smile – the one that lights up my face and shows all my teeth and I hollered "JP" at the top of my lungs, because I'm the only one who's ever been allowed to call him that.

Which brings me to where we are now – me planted on a table, my legs on either side of Jasper's lap with his hands on my hips and mine moving restlessly from his shoulders to his hair to the table to my own hair and then back again. I was hoping that I just looked drunk and not as nervous as I was. Edward hadn't followed us over to the table; he was still standing over by the wall talking with a group of mostly girls, but I could feel his eyes on me every so often. I was trying to keep up the pretense that I wasn't even remotely interested in his presence, but I don't know how successful I was being. Luckily, alcohol makes me flush red because otherwise I think my blush would have given me away.

"So what the hell are you doing home, Bella?" JP asked and I tried to turn my full attention back to him.

"Oh, um, I've been here for a year and a half." I answered, feeling foolish by my admission.

"What happened to college? Weren't you going to become a famous actress and win an Oscar and shit?"

"That was the plan." I answered again, hoping he'd get the hint and change the subject.

"Well, what happened to the plan?"

"Well, let's see. Everything was going pretty well. I took my first acting class and it was awesome. I really felt like I was where I was supposed to be, you know? And then I had to take a bunch of bogus classes. General studies and shit. And other theater classes. Stage Design. History of Theater. That kind of crap." Shit, I so didn't want to get into my utter failure at life right now. But Jasper was sitting there, looking so earnest and interested. And he'd always been so freaking easy to talk to. "So it ended up being a good year and a half before my next acting class. It was a Shakespeare acting class and I was really excited, 'cuz you know how much I love Shakespeare." And then I stopped again, because I hated even thinking about this.

But Jasper has always seemed to be able to sense my emotions better than most people. He got serious and squeezed my hips a little. "So what happened?"

"I fucking sucked. That's what happened."

"I find that really hard to believe."

"It's true. I mean, that was the first acting class I took that was restricted to only theater majors. So I had been pretty insulated from the level of competition there was. But all the students in class had already acted in some plays and knew each other and the professor. So I felt like I had to prove myself more than the others. And I had a lot more trouble acting out Shakespeare than I thought I would. I mean, I've always understood it so well, but trying to put emotion behind those words, ugh. It didn't seem to matter that I knew what the speaker was feeling. And the prof was such an asshole! Really light on the praise and heavy on the criticism. He made me so damn nervous. And because I was nervous, it was harder to perform. The more nervous I was, the worse I was, the more critical he got – and I'm talking ripping you down in front of everyone – and it just made me even more nervous. Like a freaking vicious cycle of hell until finally I felt so wooden on stage it was a miracle I could even move. I just wanted the floor to just swallow me up. Fuck." I sighed and snagged the beer on the table by us – which might have belonged to anyone – and took a swig.

"The high point was him telling me – while I was standing up on stage in front of everyone – that I was cute enough, but if I didn't start training my voice I'd never get a job unless it was for comic relief, 'cuz my voice was so nasally and annoying. Oh, and he casted me as The Fool in King Lear. Could he have been any more transparent? I ended the semester crying in his office while we discussed other opportunities for me in theater, like directing. That was the nicest he was to me all semester."

"Wow. That's bullshit. What a fucktard." Jasper actually looked a little pissed on my behalf, which made me smile.

"Honestly, it was probably better to hear it then, not wait until I headed off to the big time and ended up turning tricks on the street corner. Or starring in 'Bella of the Balls' or some shit." That got a snort out of him.

"Ok. We'll agree to disagree over that. But it doesn't explain what you've been doing here for the last year."

"Nothing. I've been doing nothing. After that conference I came home for Christmas and I just ended up staying. I wasn't sure what I was doing any more. My plan was shot to shit. I had a butt-load of credit card debt. And I didn't want to waste tuition money while I figured out what I was going to do. And I just haven't gone back yet." Wow, when you put it that way, I sounded really fucking pathetic.

"You know, of all the people in our class, you were the last person I would have picked to quit and crawl back here. I mean, it doesn't surprise me much to see Mike behind the bar and Jessica shaking her ass and waiting tables. But it's a damn shame to see you here cooling your heels, Swan. What a fucking waste."

I drew in a breath, mainly just to cushion the blow because I had no idea what I was going to respond with – he had basically voiced every fear and insecurity that had been fermenting in my mind since I left school – but then it got lodged in my throat when I heard a familiar voice just behind me.

"What's a fucking waste?" Shit. His voice was just as I remembered it. Low and soft and smooth and velvet. Jesus, did my nipples just get hard? That's a new development.

I looked at Jasper, and my eyes felt too wide in my face. He looked at me and just grinned. "It's a fucking waste that Bella just finished off my beer. I'm giving up my booze and I'm not even going to score some tail."

I smirked and winked at him. "What makes you think you're not gonna score some tail Whitlock?"

"Bella, baby. Don't tease." He looked around me at Edward. "Edward, do you know Bella? We graduated together." I had to look around at Edward then and he was staring at me intently. If possible even more heat rose to my cheeks.

"I remember," he said softly, and in those two little words I heard so much more. And suddenly I was remembering. Remembering the sound of his laughter in my ear. Remembering the feel of his body lying against mine on the couch. Remembering the way his lips brushed lightly against the skin at the nape of my neck. Remembering him.

"Edward." I said by way of greeting and was proud when my voice didn't waiver. Then I ruined it by glancing down at his left hand for a ring. And sighing when I didn't see one.

He looked at me and gave me one raised eyebrow in inquiry. I turned away and looked back at Jasper, hoping Edward would get the hint and move on. "So, how's med school?" I asked him, 'cuz that had been Jasper's plan since we were babies. Jasper looked a little sheepish, but I was distracted by the sound of a chair being pulled around the table. Edward appeared in my vision, twirling the chair around and dropping it next to Jasper, before plopping down in it backwards, his arms resting on the back as he glanced up at me. I was going to have a real tough time not looking at him if he was going to sit right in front of me like that. Where the hell was Rosalie? She should have been here by now to save me from myself.

"Ugh. Med school. I might need another drink if we're gonna start talking about that," Jasper responded.

"Another drink sounds fan-fucking-tastic," I concurred, because if Edward was going to insist on looking up at me through his thick lashes I was going to need a fuck-ton of alcohol. Jasper popped up out of his chair so quickly that he almost bashed his head against my chin. He caught himself on the table, leaning into me. I leaned backwards, trying to keep our faces from smashing together but ended up losing my balance and falling gracelessly back across the table. I snorted at myself, imaging how bad this looked – me lying across the table and Jasper perched above me. We were about to get kicked out of here for lewd behavior before we even had a chance to actually have a lewd thought. Then I started laughing.

"What's so funny, Swan?" Jasper asked, his face just above mine.

"Lewd."

"What?"

"Lewd."

"What's lewd?"

"We are."

"We are what?"

"Lewd. It's a funny word. It rhymes with nude. It would be lewd to be nude." I giggled at my own cleverness. Jasper gave me a funny look and then started laughing.

"Wow. I've never seen you drunk before, Bella," Edward said quietly. That sobered me right up. Because he hadn't seen me drunk, but he had seen me lewd and mostly-nude. I struggled to sit up and Jasper gave me a quick hand. My eyes clashed with Edward's as I came upright, and my breath caught. It looked like he was remembering me lewd and nude as well. Jesus. Danger Will Robinson.

Jasper went to step away from me, and in a surprisingly ninja-quick move for my state of inebriation, I caught his wrist. "Where are you going?" I asked almost frantically.

"You said we needed more drinks," he replied. Shit.

"I didn't mean for you to get them," I said and realized I sounded a little stupid.

Jasper mistook my meaning though. "Don't worry about it. You can get next round. I'll be right back." He took a step away, then stopped and turned back. "What were you drinking before you finished off my beer?" He asked with a smirk.

I couldn't help smiling back at him. "Just grab me a Smirnoff Ice." I looked down at Edward. He was still staring at me, his brilliant green eyes alight with a bit of fire. "Better get me a shot of Tequila too Jazz," I told him, eyes still locked with Edward's. Where the fuck was Rose?