An extra special thank you to Elvelethril, who has gone completely above and beyond in supporting me and this story
A/N Stephenie Meyer owns, I just play.
I guess, when you have as much as the Cullens, it doesn't take much to keep an extra person around, no matter how much baggage they carry.
Still, though. My time as Edward the Leech was almost over. All I needed was a ride home, and then I wouldn't ask for anything, ever again.
I was starting to get restless waiting on the Cullen's pristine couch, so I folded all the blankets I'd used and put them back in the linen closet, and then did the same for the guest room Alice had slept in. She'd left nothing in there except a glass of water, which I brought out to put in the dishwasher. Then I went into Jasper's room and gathered up the track bag he had lugged inside for me.
I went through his drawers looking for any of my clothes that had been misplaced with his laundry and found a couple shirts from my days in Phoenix and a pair of running shorts. Most of the things in the bathroom I'd just borrowed from Jasper when I was staying over, like the shampoo and toothpaste, but I had my own toothbrush, sunscreen, and contact case and solution. I gathered up those things and dropped them in my bag as well. Grabbing my backpack from beside his desk, I brought both to the front door, ready to leave as soon as Esme got back.
For some reason, I hated the thought of them cleaning up after me. I wanted it to be like I'd never been here.
I startled when the doorknob twisted and I stood back to greet Esme. I stood back even farther when I realized it was Rosalie getting home instead.
She glared like she'd discovered me mouth-breathing over photos of her. "What the fuck do you want?"
"Um, I need a ride home."
"Yeah, well, good luck with that. Mom's client today is really picky; she probably won't be done for hours."
Hours? No. That wasn't good enough. I needed to get out now, before Jasper came home.
"Is there any way you could? Take me, I mean?" I asked tremulously.
"Yeah, right." She rolled her eyes and brushed past me.
"Please?" I knew I really shouldn't ask. I didn't want her thinking I owed her anything, ever, and it's not like I could stand to be near her, but it would be easier if I didn't have to face anyone else.
She paused in the opening to the hallway, looking over her shoulder. "Why should I? You know you hate being in my spitting-radius."
I sighed. "Rosalie. I know you hate me," I stressed, "but you win, okay? Just take me home and I'll stay there."
She seemed to consider this almost-seriously for a moment. "Promise?"
"Promise," I nodded.
She dropped her backpack off of one shoulder and stalked in the direction of her room. I didn't even bother following her, chalking it up as a lost cause.
"Alright Masen. But you don't talk and you carry your own shit."
She was shifting a heavily-accessorized keychain in her hand. She had also traded her backpack for a huge ass purse, and I didn't see the point. It fit the same amount of stuff, and they were both pink anyway.
Surprised, I nodded again, and carried my stuff through the front door.
As requested, I didn't say a word. Rosalie drove even faster than Jasper, a trait they had both picked up from Carlisle. Jasper had never complained about my clunker of a Volvo that couldn't beat sixty-five, but maybe now he'd look into getting a sports car too.
Somehow Rosalie remembered where I lived without needing directions, and I pulled my belongings from her backseat silently when we rolled up to the curb.
I knew this may well be the last contact I ever had with a Cullen, and I just couldn't stop the question from slipping past my lips. I had to ask, one last time, even though I already knew the answer. At least from Rosalie, it wouldn't be sugar-coated and spliced with lies.
"You really all pity me?"
She rolled her eyes so dramatically I thought she'd pull a muscle or something. "Jeez, do you ever quit? Besides, it's not like you need us to anymore, with the massive pity party you're obviously throwing for yourself."
It was foolish of me to even think the answer could change, and I couldn't think of anything to say to that. She sped away, her blond pony tail flailing in the wind.
When I got inside I went directly to my room, hiding out so Dad wouldn't notice me whenever he got home. That seemed like a good plan, for a while, but eventually I needed to find some food.
Around nine-thirty I was too hungry to wait anymore so I chanced a trip to the kitchen, grabbing an apple and reheating a slice of old pizza I found in the fridge.
I had been thinking about what Rosalie said before – all of it, from the fanboy/kicked puppy bit to how I was feeling sorry for myself.
It felt sacrilegious to agree with her, but she was probably right. I had been feeling pretty lousy. I had just lost… so much. My delusions of friendship and something more with Jasper were definitely over, and who knew where I stood with Ali. Would she just act like nothing had happened, or would she continue to give me the brush off?
Was there any way we would be able to talk about what actually happened with Dad last night – truthfully and openly, so at least she didn't have to carry the weight of that alone? Part of me hoped she was filling the Swans in on everything, but somehow I guessed Bella was only getting the glossed version of it too. It was embarrassing for both of us to reveal how truly far the Masens had fallen, though the proof was frequent and easy to spot. I knew it did me no good to wallow in my failures though.
I definitely wasn't going to bother her tonight – she needed time to cool down, and probably to come to terms with what she was feeling first. But tomorrow, I promised myself, I'd make time for the two of us to talk. Maybe after school.
I spent the rest of the night listening to Elliott Smith on my iPod and lamenting the loss of what I thought had been my best friend.
Alright, so it was a pity party. So sue me.
The next morning was too bright and too early, but I covered my neck, face and arms with sunscreen and went to pick up the girls. I also popped a Tylenol so I could drive without my leg bothering me. Usually I picked up Jasper even if I slept at my own place, but I assumed he'd be smart enough to grab a ride with Rosalie.
At the Swan's house Bella came out with some other girl I didn't recognize, but I watched the door attentively waiting for Alice and refused to spare her a glance. I wanted to see how Alice looked, before she had the chance to put on her falsely-happy face and pretend nothing had happened, just in case that was her plan for the day. My goal was to predict her mood and avoiding pissing her off too early.
Bella climbed into the backseat and the new girl grabbed shotgun. I knew Alice would kick her to the back when she got here, so I didn't bother taking my eyes off the door.
"Edward, are we gonna stare a hole through the house, or are we gonna go?"
I turned to the petulant girl beside me and gasped.
"Alice?"
"Yeah?" she challenged, looking me directly in the eye, and I gasped again.
"What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything!" Her voice was loud and screechy in the small car. "Can we just drive now?"
Alice had most certainly done something. I looked to Bella in the rearview mirror, but she was studiously avoiding my gaze.
Alice was barely Alice. Her usual bright colors and layered clothes were replaced with tight black jeans, all-black Converse and a camouflage shirt full of washed-out greens. Her hair was gone, mostly. What had been longish and layered auburn hair was now barely three inches, and spiked out in a pixie cut. It was also jet black.
That alone would have been enough to send my mind spinning, but she hadn't stopped there. When she'd looked at me, and I'd finally seen her eyes – what had she done?
She was wearing light brown contact lenses but, as with most colored contacts, they failed to fully cover up her natural irises and some pinpoints of green showed through. The effect was eerie… it seemed to lighten the brown, making it into an uneven honeyed color.
She looked nothing like the Alice I'd grown up with, especially without the telltale green of her eyes to give her away. And I had definitely already pissed her off.
I probably could have handled that better.
I should have known it was her right away, if not from her size then from the smell of Banana Boat Watermelon sunscreen – at least that hadn't changed.
Bella jumped out of the silent car immediately once I had parked and Alice went to too, but I put a hand on her backpack before she could grab it.
"Ali, honey. I'm sorry I freaked. Can we talk?"
She stepped completely out of the car before yanking her backpack from me.
"No." Then she slammed the door.
God damnit.
Jasper was late to first period, but he had a note. I pretended not to notice.
I made sure to leave every class immediately, arrive at the next just before the bell, and hide out in the library during lunch. I felt ridiculous, but I was worried that if Jasper caught up to me he would want to talk, and I just didn't think I could listen to any of his half-assed explanations. I knew I wouldn't be able to retain any sense of composure.
It didn't matter how many clever ways he managed to evade the question, the truth was he did pity me and Alice. It was all over his face when he'd said it 'wasn't that simple.' All he had to do was say no. He'd had so many chances. I'd asked him, point-blank, if what Rosalie'd said was true. I'd asked him to tell me he didn't feel bad for us. And he just never said no.
If I was honest with myself, I was also worried that if I ran into Jasper he would not want to talk. It would only confirm what I already knew but, still, I wanted to save myself the pain of watching him reject me in public.
After school, only Bella was waiting for me at my car.
"Hey Bella. Where's Alice?"
"She said to tell you she was staying late and would get a ride on her own."
"What is she staying late for?"
"She said she decided to work tech for Midsummer Night's Dream."
I wasn't sure I bought that, and decided to take advantage of the fact that Bella, with her small-town innocence, couldn't lie for shit. "Bella, is that true?"
She turned red at being questioned, and ducked her head, but nodded. "Yeah, I saw her. They were having a meeting in the drama room."
"Alright then. Let's get you home."
It really wasn't a very long drive to Bella's, and about halfway through she started blushing again for absolutely no reason.
"Bella? What's up?"
"Nothing."
On any other day, I would have laughed. "Seriously. Is something bothering you?"
She glanced to me, and then out the window again. "It's just, um, where's Jasper?"
Oh. Yeah.
"At track."
"No, I mean, why didn't he come with us this morning? And how is he getting home if we're not waiting for him?"
"Jasper doesn't need a ride anymore," I said, refusing to go into more details. And then, even though I knew it wasn't fair, I asked, "How's Alice?"
Bella's voice was small, and directed to her shoes, but it wasn't hard to hear her with no other distractions.
"She said not to tell you."
I sighed. So she really was still mad at me. I just didn't exactly get why, other than my faux pas over her new look this morning.
"Bella, I hate to ask, but can you tell me anyway?"
That was a lie, I didn't hate to ask. I also knew Bella would probably crack, and I was really starting to worry about Ali.
"I don't know, Edward."
"Please?"
She tugged on her pony tail nervously. "She just keeps talking about how much she loves her new outfits."
"Where did she even get all that stuff? And the haircut?"
"Dad took us to Port Angeles yesterday after school. He took off from work to pick up Alice and thought we should find some distractions. And, um, she just wanted to go shopping for that stuff. I cut her hair last night."
"You did a nice job," I said for lack of anything better to say.
"Thanks," she whispered.
"Did she, uh, tell you—"
"No," she cut me off. "She won't really talk about it."
That's what I was worried about. I knew I had to redouble my efforts to get some alone time with her, and make her see that I only wanted to help.
"Is… is she gonna be okay?"
I gave her my best smile, but it still broadcasted my uncertainty. "We'll work on it, okay? I love her and you love her, and that's a start."
She nodded and didn't say much else until I pulled into her driveway. Before she got out she turned her wide brown eyes on me and said, "I'm sorry you and Jasper are fighting." And then she shut the door.
I sighed forcefully. Once she was inside I hit the steering wheel just once, hard, before driving the few extra blocks to my dad's place.
The living room looked exactly as it had yesterday, and I started to get the feeling Dad hadn't even been home. I locked myself in my room again, focusing diligently on not feeling sorry for myself and getting my homework done instead.
When he still hadn't shown up by eight o'clock I decided he wasn't coming at all, and finished the last of the pizza in the fridge. Then I took the opportunity to snoop.
If Dad wasn't coming home, then I could look for that 2 Years Sober chip. Ideally I could confront him about letting both us and his sponsor down, but I wanted to have that chip in my hand when I did. That way when I walked away with it, he'd see what he'd lost.
A quick survey of the living room gave me nothing. I checked near Mom's photo and on the shelves of trinkets she used to collect. Then I did a rundown of the obvious places in the kitchen, i. e., near the liquor cabinet. It had stood symbolically empty for quite a while but a quick check told me, yep, he had restocked it – mostly with whiskey.
The bastard.
I was hesitant to check his room because that seemed like a more severe invasion of his privacy. The door was never locked, so I did go in but only glanced around. It wasn't on any surfaces that I could see, and I didn't want to risk opening his bedside table and finding something I couldn't un-see.
Damnit. I knew that proof of his sobriety was important to him; it should have been someplace he could see and remember it daily. The only thought I had was that in light of his recent failures, he had hidden it. I couldn't know for sure though.
Eventually I gave up. I no longer confined myself to my room though, instead deciding to commune with Mom.
I laid on the couch since it still felt good to put my leg up, and thought-told her about all the messes I'd gotten myself into. I thought about Ali and how she was cutting herself off from me and apparently the Swans too, and how it bothered me that she was hiding her eyes – like she was embarrassed of who we were, or something. Then I thought about Jasper, and how nothing was as it seemed. Now that the urgency to get out of his house was gone I just felt empty, and alone. I thought the worst part of leaving would be living back in my dad's house but, especially since he hadn't been around yet, the worst part was really not seeing Jasper.
I missed him. I missed how we'd fall asleep whispering across his dark room and how he'd laugh at my measly sprinting distances after he'd done some serious long distance training. I missed how he'd kick my foot under the kitchen table when he was already done eating, and how I could spot his strikingly blue eyes even in a crowded room.
Everything seemed easier when he was with me and, on the flip side, harder without him. Today was one of those harder times. My eyes felt dry and prickly, like I was about to cry, so I flipped on the TV to distract myself.
Around ten, thinking Dad must be getting home eventually, I slipped back into my room and forced myself through more deep breathing exercises until I could sleep.
When I picked up Ali and Bella the next morning, I tried a new approach.
"I really like your hair, Ali."
She paused, probably a little shocked, but muttered a thank you.
I continued on. "Bella told me she cut it herself. She did a really nice job."
That time Alice just nodded, so I changed the topic, asking her about doing tech crew.
That seemed to perk her up, and I was glad to see it.
"It's not really tech, even though we hang out with the guys on tech too. I'm doing set designs, mostly 'cause that's the only team that needed more people, but I have a bunch of really neat ideas for double sided backgrounds and things."
"That sounds really cool. I can't wait to see them. Are you going to have to do any heavy lifting?"
She shrugged. "I guess, but I'm sure if anything's really heavy we'll get the guys to help."
I nodded along thoughtfully, really working up to my next question. "And your shoulder isn't bothering you?"
Her back hunched and she stopped fidgeting. Apparently, Angry Alice was back.
"I told you I'm fine, Edward."
"I know," I said, still trying to pretend this was just another casual conversation. She seemed to be responding better when our words weren't weighted. "I'm just trying to look out for you. That's what big brothers are for."
Her eyes flashed with something sharp before she turned to glare out the window. "Yeah, well, apparently you can't protect me from everything."
My breath caught in my lungs. Her aim was true. That jab hurt, but she spoke the truth. I had failed her and that, as much as anything else, pressed heavily on my conscience.
"Ali," I pleaded, my voice softening. "I'm just trying to make sure you're okay. I'm sorry I wasn't there."
"I told you I don't care."
"Not caring isn't the same as being okay," I reminded her in a whisper.
She shifted abruptly to face me, and yelled like I wasn't two feet beside her. "I don't care! I don't want to talk about it, and I wish you'd just leave me alone!"
My chest tightened, and I took a moment to focus on the road in front of me. Bella, the amazing girl that she was, had pulled out her iPod and was staring fixedly out the back window.
"I'm sorry, Ali. Please… please don't be mad."
"Then just drop it already, okay?" Her voice was harsh, and laced with venom.
That was the last thing I wanted to do, really, until I believed she was actually alright, but obviously fighting with her would get me nowhere. I nodded.
Then she asked, "Where's Jasper, anyway?"
I swallowed thickly, and focused even harder on the road so I wouldn't break down right then and there.
When we got to school, Alice was still annoyed but managed not to yell. "I don't need a ride home again, but Bella still does."
First period was shit, because apparently there was homework assigned on Wednesday that I didn't know about. When the teacher asked everyone to pass their assignments up to the front, I swear I could feel Jasper's eyes on me. Instead of turning to check, I made a point of reading from my textbook. I approached Ms. Belfy after class to ask for an extension so it wouldn't affect my grade.
I saw Jasper linger by the door, and accidentally caught his eye. He looked distraught, like it was hard for him to just stand there. I could see my blank homework sheet in his hand, but I snapped my attention to Ms. Belfy and heard his shoes squeak out the door.
Ms. Belfy wasn't as tall as I was – almost no one was – but she still managed to look down her nose at me. "I gave your assignment to Jasper Cullen on Wednesday, who assured me he would get it to you. You have no excuses."
"But I—"
"No excuses, Edward. You can turn it in on Monday for half credit."
Well, la-di-fuckin-da.
During lunch I went in search of Coach Clapp, who told me to show back up to practice on Monday.
Again, wonderful.
When I got to my car after school, I breathed a sigh of relief for the upcoming weekend, and having avoided Jasper. Aside from protecting my own fragile composure, it was also important to me to build a semblance of independence. I had just done two whole days of school without Jasper. It was a meager start, but a start nonetheless.
Bella and I made small talk in the car, and she wished me a good weekend. I did my best to smile.
Dad still didn't come home Friday night, which I spent alternately staring at the TV and staring at my computer. My knee was feeling better, despite the driving and walking around school, and I looked forward to being able to take a nice refreshing run.
By Saturday, I wondered if I should be worried about Dad, and finally thought to check the garage. His car was gone, which I decided meant he was out somewhere on purpose, and that it was a good indication that he wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere. Knowing that our garage door would make a shit-ton of noise when he returned, I gave myself free reign of the house until he returned. It was raining outside and, besides, I didn't really have that much trouble to get up to, so I spent the weekend amusing myself with the internet, music and college apps.
I had decided that counting on a scholarship to a fancy east coast Ivy school was a long shot, too long, and that I should pick some more attainable schools. Besides, especially if Dad was drinking again, I didn't feel comfortable leaving Alice alone in Forks. I started looking up safety schools in Seattle and the Northwest that would almost certainly give me a scholarship, and printed out an application to UW.
I tried to keep myself busy, to distract myself, but it was a faulty system. I ended up spending even more time thinking to Mom, trying to figure out how to get through to Ali and how to manage the rest of the year. Giving in to Alice's charade that everything was fine and black really was her new favorite color didn't seem like the smart thing to do. I was pretty sure it was the only way she would talk to me without yelling, though.
I wish you could talk to her, Mom. I don't think I'm enough anymore.
By Sunday afternoon the loneliness had really set in. The only person I'd talked to since Friday afternoon was a dead woman. I didn't think I'd ever spent an entire weekend alone before. Not, well, ever. Not without seeing Jasper or Ali or at least my Dad. The thought was sobering, and miserable. Eventually I remembered that I was supposed to leave the house this weekend to get some money for Ali's lunches. I had completely forgotten, and all the banks were closed anyway. At this point I didn't know if that would upset her too, but someone had clearly paid for her new clothes and hair color, and she needed to have some pocket change of her own.
Eventually I decided to watch a movie, but all my favorites were ones I had enjoyed with Jas, and I quickly gave up on that idea.
My whole body froze when I heard a knock on the front door. I don't know why I hesitated, especially since I had just been lamenting my own isolation, but I couldn't think of who it would be. The idea that it could be a Cullen rooted me to the spot. I had expected Esme to make some sort of contact, but my phone had been eerily silent all weekend.
The thought that it could be Alice or one of the Swans, however, propelled me to answer the door.
I took my time crossing the small living room, nervous as I was, but quickly found out that all my worrying was for nothing. No one was visible out the peephole, so I didn't even bother opening the door. Clearly no one, Cullen, Masen or Swan, had bothered to look for me.
My own agitation was getting to me and I decided to get out of the house, for any reason at all. Maybe I'd just drive to the closest ATM and get Ali's money. I stomped back to my room to get my keys, but couldn't force myself into my room once I'd looked inside. My breath caught on a silent gasp, and I was transfixed.
Jasper.
He had yanked my flimsy window open and had one leg dangling in my room while still standing outside. He, too, froze when he spotted me. We looked at each other through the clear pane of glass in his hands like children watching the sky for rain.
He looked wild and his nose was red like it had been running. His hair was greasy and yanked into loose ringlets. What was he doing here? Was he looking for me? Or was he trying to sneak in when I wasn't around?
I shook my head and said softly, "Don't come in."
That spurred him into action but instead of retreating, he just pushed the window up higher. The damp wood creaked with reluctance, but he managed to pull his whole body into my room. When he stood to his full height he balanced himself like he was bracing for a fight.
Was that what he was here for? To fight? We were squared off, each on either side of my room, and I was reluctant to get any closer. I resented him for blocking me off from my own room. This was supposed to be my one safe place and now, with him here, I was on edge again.
"Why the fuck are you here?"
"I… I wanted to talk to you," he spluttered in a breathy voice.
"I don't want to talk. You made yourself perfectly clear already."
He reached forward, like he was going to approach me, but I backed up into the hallway. A weird sensation came over me and I felt like I had done this before. Why couldn't I just be free of this deceitful friendship already?
He pulled his hand up to run it through his hair, only serving to disturb the curls framing his face. "I know you're angry but I… I can't just let this go, Edward."
What the fuck did that even mean? Cryptic much?
His shoulders had hunched and he could barely make eye contact. He seemed so dejected, but that only made me angrier. Was I supposed to feel bad for him because he had lost his most devoted groupie?
"Don't you fucking act like I'm the one who kicked you to the curb." The venom coating my words was evident, but I was doing my best not to raise my voice. "You obviously never wanted me around that much before, so this puppy dog crap won't get you anywhere. That's supposed to be my schtick, remember?" I sneered.
"That's not true," he insisted patiently. "Please, Edward. I know you're angry." His voice was still low and calm, like he was sounding out the words for someone frightened and volatile, and it bugged the shit out of me. I wanted him to react, damnit! I felt like our friendship was a lie, and he couldn't even be bothered to get worked up about it.
"Damn straight, I'm mad!" My firsts were starting to clench at my sides, and I could no longer keep my voice down. "I've got enough shit to deal with, and now you show up wanting to talk? I can't even believe the shit you said to me!"
"Okay," he said, holding his hands up in mock-surrender and placating me with a soothing tone. "I know you have a lot on your plate, Edward, and I know you're upset. You just have to let me explain."
Oh, hell no. I would not be coddled. I charged across the room to loom over him. "Explain what?" My fists were so tight I could feel my own fingernails cutting crescents into my palms. "How you let Rosalie get away with all that crap? How I'm just some broken puppy you don't mind dragging around? How you like it that way?"
He couldn't look at me; his head was hung but I couldn't tell if he was looking at his feet or if his eyes were closed.
Finally, he answered in a wavering whisper. "Edward, please," he whispered. "Please don't yell."
I wouldn't let him guilt me into overlooking his falsehoods. I didn't even know why he was bothering to try, really.
"Why the fuck not? Because I'm just supposed to be thankful to hang out with the mighty Jasper Cullen? Because you'd rather just shrug this whole thing off? Is that what I'm supposed to do, Jasper? Fucking shrug!?"
If a shrug was what he was hoping for, he would be sorely disappointed. I wasn't even sure I was capable of calming down. Between his betrayal and the fury I felt toward my father's callous treatment of Alice, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to shrug it off.
When he didn't respond, I punctuated my question by snarling right in his face. "Is it!?"
When he answered it was in the smallest, most helpless voice I had ever heard from him. "Please, don't yell at me. I can't breathe when you yell at me."
That startled me into stillness. It was probably good for me to take a step back – I had known I wouldn't be able to stay composed while talking to him, but I hated letting him get me so riled up.
I backed away from him until I bumped into the wall by my door, and raised my hands in a gesture of acquiescence.
"Okay," I said through clenched teeth, as quietly as I could. "Jasper, what the fuck is there to talk about?"
He took several deep breaths before beginning. "Look. Rosalie hates you— I mean, not hate, but…" he corrected quickly.
I rolled my eyes. "I know she hates me. Move on."
"Fine. It's just, I know she's a bitch at dinner, but you don't know the shit she says when you're not around. She's been trying to convince me for years that you don't really give a crap about me. That you're just here because you want some of the Cullen money or popularity or, fuck, that you were trying to commandeer my mom for yourself."
I suddenly got very nervous about the hug Esme had given me, but then returned to being angry that he was making me feel guilty again. Besides, I had given up getting any more of her hugs anyway.
I shook my head sharply. "That's not true, you know that. You—"
He waved me off, taking a hesitant step in my direction. "I know. She's just blowing smoke. And my sister, I swear I love her, but she's kind of a conniving bitch. Just a few weeks ago she switched tactics, saying that you were creepily devoted to me."
I cringed, and tried to look away, but he saw my reaction and moved ever closer to me, planting each foot slowly.
"Rosalie was spouting half-truths, okay? She's not like us, she doesn't get us at all. Her friends," he mimed air-quotes, "are really just a posse of girls that are constantly looking over their shoulders so they don't get stabbed in the back. By each other. She doesn't know what it means to have a real best friend."
Best friends. That's what I thought we were. Why was Jasper's definition so different from mine? "She made it sound like I was your retarded cheerleader," I reminded him with a hard edge to my voice. "You said you liked it that way."
"She tried to make it sound worse than is it," he answered softly, "but the truth is you are always there to cheer me on, for everything, and I do like it."
He was still approaching me, but I tasted bile. I couldn't believe that after all this mess and drama, he was still spouting the same shit. He pressed on, though.
"And I try to always be there to cheer you on. I know you're always there for me, and I'd like to think I'm always there for you. But she was turning it into something it's not. She was trying to say that it's unnatural."
Oh god. I squeezed my eyes shut. That was the big question, wasn't it? The big question before all the questions became moot anyway. Was it wrong to feel so close? The guilt and shame I'd felt before flooded through me, compounding all my anger and tension.
It didn't matter! I told myself. It didn't! Because that was over…
"Was."
He didn't respond, and I looked up to see him closer than I'd expected, but confused. "It was unnatural," I murmured quietly.
He sucked in a sharp breath. "You think it's unnatural?"
God, the pain in his face tore at me. Where did he get off being so broken up over this? So what if he had always been there to cheer me on? If it was out of some misguided sense of pity, then I didn't need his encouragement. I could do just fine on my own.
Words came rushing out of him before I could even answer. "It's not, Edward. At least, I don't think it is. I know she called you all sorts of awful things but please don't let it bother you, okay? It didn't bother me because I know I'm just the same. If you're my groupie then I'm, well, I'm definitely yours. It's totally mutual, Edward."
The idea of it made me pause. The thought that I wasn't some unequal partner in this… whatever it was. I had tried to forget, honestly I had, but I could still remember how he made me feel. How talented and special and supported I'd felt. Did he feel the same? Was it possible?
Well – I thought of my uncomfortable morning situations in his bed. It probably wasn't possible for him to feel everything I had, I decided, but if he just felt the kinship…
My thoughts stopped abruptly. Where was this explanation before?
"Why couldn't you just say that? Why did you let her walk all over me? And you. Us."
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Edward. So sorry. But I thought if I just agreed, she'd drop it. And then you came out of the bathroom, and you were so mad, and you were starting to yell. I just can't think when you yell."
Had I been yelling? Looking back, I couldn't even remember. The whole night was just a swirl of let-downs and broken faiths.
I backed up a step further, and let myself slide down the wall my heels had backed up against. I pulled my good knee up to my chin, letting my right leg fall to the side. I sat there, quietly trying to get my thoughts in order.
I wanted to believe him, but something kept stomping down the peaceful thoughts that were trying to bloom. His words were pretty, and conciliatory, but they didn't solve everything. "Jasper, I can't. I just can't handle knowing that you all pity me."
"Oh, Edward," he sympathized. He crouched in front of me and leaned in, like he wanted to make sure he had my full attention.
My throat constricted and I glanced to the door, thinking that if he offered me more pity I might just have to bolt.
"Okay, look. I know what it seems like. Rose said a bunch of stuff at once, and I just wasn't answering the way I should have. I know that." He shook his head again, as if rattling the thoughts around in his brain would help. "Everything was getting so mixed up, and I was just trying to convince you that her accusations didn't matter."
"You could have maybe fucking clarified. I asked you, more than once. All you had to do was say no." My glare was thick with accusation.
"No!" he called out desperately. "I'm saying it now. No. I know I should have said it before, I know." His face was earnest and pleading. "I didn't get a chance to. I'm sorry, Edward. Really. It doesn't bother me that we're so… well, not codependent," he shook his shaggy hair out of his face with a deep breath, "but intertwined. I like that, but I just couldn't say everything I wanted to in front of Rose."
"Why not?"
He blinked rapidly, suddenly avoiding my gaze. "It, it doesn't matter now. Just please, believe me. I know it all came out wrong. All I wanted to do was remind you we had a good thing here. But between her goading you and your yelling I was so… I just, I never got a chance to say that I was talking about me."
He was still blinking excessively, and his breathing was clearly labored. It was obvious, now, how flustered the whole thing made him.
Inexplicably, I wanted to comfort him. I really did. I knew that with his calm surfer-dude demeanor, he wasn't especially adept at handling conflict. Other than trading quips with Rosalie, he'd probably never had the need. I truly believed that watching Rosalie and me get all worked up made it difficult for him to speak up.
There was one more thing I had to know, though. "What about before? When we were younger?"
"I felt bad for you," he admitted on a sigh, and I stiffened. "I mean, of course I did. Your mom had just died, and you were a wreck. But I didn't invite you over out of pity."
"You didn't?"
He smiled kindly and my vision was filled with nothing but his high, masculine cheek bones, the way his lashes framed his tender eyes, and the one tendril of dirty blond hair that had fallen between them. I was reminded once again how beautiful he could be, when he wasn't breaking my heart.
"Edward, I told you. The answer is no. Of course I didn't. That first night… I just didn't want you to go through something so horrible alone. I wanted to keep you safe, and I wanted to help because you were my best friend. Even then, you already were."
"Oh," I mumbled self-consciously, both mollified and touched by his explanation. I remembered that night, that first time I slept over at his house. I was so grateful, and happy to have found him. "You were mine, too," I whispered.
I pressed my head back against the wall and took a deep breath. It felt like, for the first time in days, I could actually breathe properly. Knowing that I wasn't mistaken in our friendship and that my affection, while not something he could reciprocate, was based on a real connection… I felt like the rubber band that was wound taught between my shoulder blades had been snapped, and I would finally be able to relax.
Except that it wasn't working.
"Are you still mad, Edward?"
It was hard to look at his distraught face and the way his shoulders folded in on themselves, even as he forced a tepid smile. I folded my arms across my knee and pressed my head into them.
"I'm not. Really, I'm not," I said into my long sleeves. I had just been so mad, for so many days.
"Do you think, maybe…" he hesitated.
I looked up to meet his eyes once again, waiting in silence.
"Well, I know your dad did something awful. Don't you think, maybe, that you want to take this out on him?"
I looked into his glacial-blue eyes, still feeling somewhat desolate. I nodded minutely, but quickly raised my head to look at the ceiling to stop any sprouting tears from falling.
Once I was sure they were gone, I looked at him. "I am mad, Jasper. He makes me so angry. He hates us, and I want to hate him back, because he deserves it." Some hidden part of me, the part that had catalogued all the injustices he'd inflicted on us since Mom's death, seethed.
"But are you still mad at me?" he prompted. His voice was gentle, and layered with emotion. He looked almost as bulldozed as I felt, with his greasy hair and prominent worry lines. When he moved a hand up to squeeze my knee, I felt the easy peacefulness he wanted for us rinse the anger from my veins.
Jesus, he was right. Leave it to Jasper to know what I was feeling all along. And here I was, taking it out on him instead.
Well, I'd been mad at him too. I'd felt justified in my anger, until it'd become clear what an ass I'd been for letting bad communication get the best of me, and of our friendship. I understood, too, that maybe he didn't feel like hashing out the finer points of our friendship in front of Rosalie. She obviously couldn't be rational, and I certainly couldn't fault him for protecting his thoughts, with as much as I'd been hiding my own reactions lately.
I shook my head, trying to quell my residual anger and the tears that were trying to accompany it. I pressed my face into the fabric covering my arms again.
Within seconds I felt his hand, that same gentle hand that had comforted me after my fall at La Push, slip across my left shoulder. It was so warm; I wanted to press myself into it. Then I felt his other hand sliding up my right arm and slipping behind that shoulder. He quickly pulled himself to me, burying his face in my neck the way mine was pressed up against his.
"I'm so sorry, Edward," he whispered. "For all of this, and all the stuff you're going through. Please let me help you."
I shook my head within the confines of his embrace. I didn't think I could feel like an equal with Jasper if I kept leaning on him with all my baggage.
"Why not, Edward?" He pulled back and rubbed the palm of his hand across my cheek to get the last straggling tear, while still keeping his other arm around me. "I know you think Alice is your responsibility, but you shouldn't have to bear the burden for both of you without sharing a little. It's okay if you want to talk about it with someone besides her. It really is."
My eyes were filling up again at the mention of Alice. I had let her down so badly. Everything with her and Dad was just so beyond my control, and it made me feel helpless.
"Ugh!" I swiped my hand under my eyes roughly, still trying to remove any tears as soon as they formed. "I'm sorry. I can't believe I'm crying over this."
Jasper's eyebrows were pinched up as he watched my pain, and I felt doubly bad for knowing I was inflicting my anguish on him.
"Edward, it's okay. It's just you and me, and you don't have to hold it in."
I still had my folded knee pressed up against my chest, but his arms encircled all of me. I felt so weak and ashamed for not being able to control myself, but being back in Jas's accepting presence made it hard to stop once I felt the emotions welling up.
"She won't talk to me," I lamented, raking my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands, and finally letting the tears stream freely down my face. "He hurt her, the fucking bastard, and she freaked out."
Jasper gasped softly and reached for one of my own hands that rested behind my neck. He threaded his fingers between mine, just like I'd wanted to do that last night in his room, before everything went to shit.
"I was worried when I didn't see her at school this week," he commented quietly.
I shook my head against him. "You wouldn't have recognized her. She's changed. She's not the same and she won't talk to anyone about it."
Jasper clucked and nodded along sympathetically, holding me all the while.
"I lost her," I whispered, choking on my own words.
"No," he promised. "No, you didn't."
He smelled like the Cullen's house and even as I cried, I felt so much better in his arms. If I could just stay right here, I thought, then maybe everything could be okay. I'd be okay and I could figure out how to fix my family and everything would go back to the way it was before. All I wanted was for it to be like it was two weeks ago, when I adored Jasper and didn't mind, and was able to keep Alice out of harm's way.
Jasper accepted my sobs gracefully and pressed his cheek against mine. "You didn't lose her, just like you didn't lose me. I'm right here, and I'm going to help you fix it, okay? You don't have to do this alone."
I nodded desperately against him, still clutching tightly, desperate for any relief from this feeling of defenseless uncertainty. I didn't want to cry — it seemed like a weak and selfish thing to do — but as I cried into Jasper's arms, I realized how amazingly cathartic it was to get it all out.
Hugs, I swear, they are the answer to the world's problems.
My tears eventually slowed and as I sniffled I became self-conscious, once again, of my uninhibited display. As I began to lean away, I felt Jasper turn his head to brush his lips against my cheek. Mine were all chapped and bitten, but his lips were amazingly smooth and warm as he kissed my face.
"You gonna be okay?" It was practically a statement whispered against my skin and I nodded, still in his embrace.
"Yeah."
"Okay."
I turned to look at him, to thank him, but his mouth dragged along my cheek without pulling back. Instead of face to face, I suddenly found myself lip to lip with Jasper. Shock raced through me and my whole body locked down, still poised against his.
This is new, I thought. This is not returning to two weeks ago, this is not just making amends. This is new. This is amazing.
Neither of us moved and the only sensation I felt was our hot breaths mingling between our lips.
I was too close to make out his expression, so I let my eyes fall closed. Jesus, his lips were so plump. My heart thumped erratically against my chestbone and I remembered viscerally that this was what my body had been craving.
I sucked in a deep breath to prepare myself before pressing ever-so-slightly more forward, but was met with only air.
My eyes snapped open, taking in a stricken Jasper. He was sitting back on his heels, one hand clapped over his mouth and panic in his eyes.
"Oh my god, Edward," he breathed. "I'm so sorry." He was shaking his head frantically, and started pulling his fingers through his curls. Now I knew why his hair looked like it had seen better days.
"What?" I asked, startled and confused. It's not like I had pushed him away. I was right there, with him. Did I do something to turn him off? Had I taken too long to respond? If he'd wanted this, why had he stopped? The question immediately plagued me.
"I'm so sorry," he kept muttering. "I'm not, I mean I won't… I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."
His rambling was making me tense and self-conscious and before I could even think about the consequences I blurted, "Why did you stop?"
Of course, I regretted it as soon as I said it. I wanted to turn away, to hide my face and pretend I hadn't really just said that. He didn't need to know I wanted it.
He was staring at me though, with his wide, ice-blue eyes. I was caught, pierced to the spot.
We eyed each other warily, each sizing up the other. I don't know what he saw in my face, because his expression never wavered. Finally, in a low but forcedly-neutral voice he asked, "Did you want me to keep going?"
I almost choked on my own spit. Did he actually expect me to answer that? Out loud? All I wanted was my best friend back. I wanted to know he didn't pity me – and I got that. I should be happy.
I was happy. The rest was just icing on the cake. I didn't need icing.
I finally tore myself from his stare, and focused on the ratty carpet under my feet.
All I could think was that his eyes were a prettier blue.
I both saw and felt him lean in. "Edward," he said softly. Once again, he sounded like he was talking to a frightened child, trying not to be intimidating. "Do you want me to kiss you?"
There was no way I could answer, so I distracted myself by picking at a fraying thread with my thumb and forefinger.
He kept inching further towards me, but there was nowhere for me to go – I was already sitting back against the wall. He took advantage of that when he placed his palms on the wall on either side of my head and leaned in so his nose was pressed up against my ear.
"If you want this, you need to let me know," he whispered, his voice suddenly firm. "This miscommunication bullshit stops now."
There almost seemed to be a threat to his words, but the threat of what? Tongue?
Just then he breathed out in an impatient huff against my ear and I couldn't suppress a shiver.
He must have taken that for an answer, because once again he dragged his open lips across my cheek. He didn't bother with pretense though – he moved straight to my mouth.
I was statuesque in my stillness, squeezing my eyes closed and letting him choose his path. His lips stayed firmly against mine, mimicking them perfectly like a carbon copy transfer, before he tilted his head. He molded his lips around mine, breathing a ragged breath into my mouth for an eternal moment.
Holy shit. Jasper Cullen was going to kiss me.
All I had to do was kiss him back.
We moved at an achingly slow pace, gauging each other's reactions. I was hesitant to respond fully, not knowing exactly what had scared him off before. My body remained frozen but I slid my mouth against his, mapping the fullness and the curving swells of his lips as I increased the pressure slightly.
When I did, I heard him suck in a sharp breath through his nose, and he pressed his mouth urgently against mine.
For that brief moment our lips puckered, testing out the feel of this new intimacy.
The movement was minute but the action felt monumental.
Our first kiss.
Kissing continues in the next chapter :P
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