AU: Thanks for the reviews, guys! This is a semi-autobiographical chapter—yes, something similar did happen to me, so if it comes across as bitter, that's why. Anyhow, this gives my OC narrator a chance to experience Jasper's "power"—although she doesn't realize yet that's what's happening. Read on!

4

Only fifteen minutes until the movie. I was forever running late for fun stuff, and modestly early to class and work. Don't ask me why. I got out my phone to let my boyfriend, Kyle, know I was running late. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, sweetie," he said. "I don't think it'll be crowded—I mean, it's a Monday night. So don't worry about it."

"Oh, I'm not," I said. "But I wanna run in real quick so I can get my Stephen King book."

"Uh. . ."

"What's wrong? You said you were done reading it, right?"

"I am, yeah, but I mean, if you're already running late—"

"It'll take two seconds. Okay, I'm pulling up to your building—see you in a minute." I clapped the phone shut, put my car in park, and raced up the steps to Kyle's apartment. He pulled the door open before I could even knock and tried to pull it closed behind him.

"Whoa, hold on," I said. "Where's my book?"

"Oh yeah," Kyle said quickly. "Hang on, I'll grab it—"

I put my hand out against the door to keep it from closing when he disappeared back inside. "Can I come in for a second?" I asked. "What's—"

"Kyle, who're you talking to?" A thick, sultry voice came from deeper inside the apartment.

I frowned and held the door open while Kyle tried to "explain." There, sitting on the couch with my dog-eared copy of 'Salem's Lot, was Kyle's ex-girlfriend—or so I'd thought. The bastard had told me they weren't speaking anymore.

I marched straight to the couch and snatched the book out of her hands without saying a word. "Hey!" she yelled, but I ignored her. I shoved past Kyle out of the apartment and started down the stairs again.

Kyle grabbed my arm and tried to pull me back, but I elbowed him hard and kept going. "Beth, wait!" he called after me. "This isn't what it looks like."

I spun at the bottom of the staircase and glared up at him. "Really? Because it looks like your skanky ex was reading my book," I waved the paperback in his face, "on your sofa when you told me she moved out four months ago, you asshole!"

"No, she did move out. But it's just, what happened is. . ." He ran a hand through his hair and shuffled from one foot to the other.

I raised my arms in anticipation. "What? I'm waiting!"

He just looked at me, giving me the wide-eyed puppy dog look that used to melt me in seconds flat. It wasn't going to work this time. I went back to my car and started the engine. I'd planned this whole day around seeing Colin Farrell larger-than-life, and I wasn't going to give it up on account of some stupid boy.

And I was now four minutes late. "Shit," I muttered. I gunned the engine and raced to the movie theater. Ten minutes later, in the mall parking lot, I started to cry.

My mind was a nonsensical tangle during the movie, and it didn't stop when I got to the radio station. Kyle texted me four times. The first message was something along the lines of "I'm so sorry, it'll never happen again;" I deleted the rest without looking.

The station was empty when I got there; Lisa, the girl before me on the weekends, had left her last two songs cued up. I riffled through the CDs in the station, picked out my selection and seized control of the mike as soon as the music ran out. "Evening, folks!" I said, lacing my cheery voice with a heavy injection of sarcasm. "This is Bella Donna and you're listening to The Night Shade. I'll be here from ten to twelve as usual, and tonight, I'm going to kick things off with a very special dedication. This goes out to my brand new ex-boyfriend, Kyle. Thanks for nothing, jackass!" I hit play and launched some early Stabbing Westward—loud and angry, just the way I liked it.

I wandered around the studio as the music blared, trying to let it sooth me, or at least distract me a little. If it seems like I was overreacting, know this: I had heard the words "I'm so sorry, it'll never happen again" from Kyle more times than I could count on both hands. I let a lot slide with him. For example, the fact that he asked me out before breaking up with his existing girlfriend. I'm not stupid—I told him to take a hike until she moved out of his apartment at the very least. And he did. Or at least he told me he did. The first couple of weeks were wonderful—he took me out to eat, insisting on paying for everything, found me some rare vinyls as a birthday present. But he never asked me to stay over, and I'd always thought that was weird. At first, it was kinda nice—I didn't want a boyfriend who took advantage of me. But after a month had passed, and we still hadn't slept together, or even talked about it, I started to wonder. Was he weirdly religious or something? Was he gay and didn't know it yet? Was the ex still around? One day I confronted him and asked what was going on. He said he worked long hours (which I knew) and was always too tired to hang out on those rare nights that we both had off. He said he had to go out of town and needed to pack. He said—and this one cracked me up—that his apartment was a wreck and he didn't want me to see it all messy. So he'd been on thin ice with me for a while. Really I was only hanging around because I wanted to get my damn book back.

When Jasper showed up, I jumped. "Is it midnight already?" I asked.

"Five till," he said, in his soft drawl. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure, I just . . . I've got a lot on my mind. Lost track of the time. Hey, where are you from anyway?"

Jasper's eyebrows popped up in his smooth, white forehead. "Houston. Why?"

I shrugged. "I just wondered about the accent."

"Oh."

That was weird. Here I'd been, trying desperately to calm down, to make myself think of anything but Kyle all day, and the minute Jasper set foot in the room, it worked. I didn't even feel that angry anymore. Maybe I just needed another person to converse with for a few minutes.

"Are you all right?" Jasper asked.

I nodded. "Now I am," I said. "I just had a bad day. Hold on, I'm gonna do my last announcement and then I'll let you take over." I pushed the mike button. "Good night everyone! This is Bella Donna, and I'm almost outta here. I'll leave you with some Celldweller, and then you'll be in Jasper's hands for the rest of the evening. Thanks for listening to The Night Shade—take care!"

I gathered up my purse and keys and jotted down my last entry in the playlist book as Jasper settled into the chair in front of the console. "My sister-in-law's name is Bella," he said. "That's why I asked about that, before."

"Oh yeah? You have a sister-in-law?"

He nodded.

"How old is she?"

He gave me a weird, stony look and said, "Old enough in America."

I laughed. "Fine, be that way. I just think it's weird for anyone to get married younger than like thirty."

"Well, they fell in love. It happens."

"Mm. Good for them." I readjusted my purse over my shoulder and prepared to leave the station.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Jasper said.

And then a wave of . . . something went through me. A sort of warm, sparkly feeling, like static electricity but softer. Instantly I felt my blood cool, and the last of my rage vanished. "Yeah, I'll be fine," I said. "I think I just need to get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye."