I just want to thank everyone who reviewed for the last chapter. You really did help me up, especially one person who shall remain unnamed. My muse is coming back (yay!) although I'm not exactly sure how long she will stay for, but ah well. She's here, at least. Has anyone else noticed that Fanfiction's word count is wrong? A song I listened to profusely while writing this chapter was Samson by Regina Spektor. Heal thyself is something I go by a lot.
Yourself
My fingers curl around the plastic, clutching it slightly too hard than what would be deemed normal. I can feel the sweat coating my fingers, the receiver. What would be the possibilities of him answering the phone? Cunning, sneaky plans worm their way into my head, tempting, but I manage to resist. It wouldn't be fair. My stomach tingles, but I close my eyes and let go of the receiver. It clangs on the floorboards, the sound resonating around the room, making me flinch, but I can't call him. My body curls into itself; my knees come towards my chest as I lay my head on the armrest, eyes still closed, maintaining a somewhat peaceful exterior. Inside, I am convulsing.
Maria manages to keep the focus from Edward and allows my tortured mind some serenity. She still hooks her arm into mine, as she always did. To anyone else, nothing has changed between us. We walk in step together along the sheltered paths through the university campus, shielded by the dying, solemn trees. Their leave fall with hues of red and gold and yellow and litter the ground, covering it completely in some places. I walk in a familiar daze, a state I'm regularly in, fully concentrating but not quite there. My mind wanders sometimes, until Maria pulls it back unknowingly. I look at the people who walk past us, sometimes solitary, sometimes with company, and I wonder if they're lonely, I wonder if they've ever loved. I think about how they live their lives, whether they want to be here. What their fantasies are. What they think about at night. My musings are usually cut short. However, sometimes they are so curled in, so overpowered by their thoughts that I can look at them for as long as I want.
"Jasper?" comes a soft voice.
"Yes?"
"Are you free next weekend?"
"I think so. Why?" I continue watching people, only half listening to Maria, when I see him. Maria keeps on talking, and I wish she'd stop, something about a cabin, but all I can concentrate on is Edward and his face, downcast. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets, and he walks with a quick, imposing stride, almost as if he just wants to get out. He doesn't look up, doesn't notice anyone, an air of military intimidation hanging around him, and so he starts turning onto another path, away from us.
"Hey!" I shout before I can stop myself, my voice loud and projecting. He looks up slightly, not faltering in his stride, before looking down again, just for a moment. I feel my chest sinking for that split second. Then, recognition grows on his face and he stops, his hands coming out of his pockets as he turns to face me, straightening up, harrowingly beautiful.
"Jasper," he says, almost a statement, his eyes flickering between Maria and me. I don't know how to approach this, don't know what else to say. There is a moment of silence between us as we gaze at each other, not quite believing that the other is there.
"How was your trip, Edward?" Thank God for Maria.
It is apparent that he almost forgets Maria is there, and I only hope she doesn't catch it. "Fine, thank you." There is another uncomfortable pause, as we don't know where to look. An unspoken question lingers painfully in the air. "I- I have to go," Edward stutters. "I have a class." He walks away, not looking at me one last time. I slowly drop my arm, and Maria's goes limp as she lets me go. I turn around to look at her, my mind turbulent.
"I have to go," I say, repeating Edward's initial words. "What were you saying, something about a cabin?"
"Oh," she pauses, "Nothing."
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow." I turn and walk away, but not without the scratching thought that this moment has a striking resemblance to the one between Edward and myself.
I spend my next classes jigging my knee, fiddling with my fingers, unable to concentrate. My eyes frequently meet the clock face, which seems to be going ever slower, unwilling to fulfil my request. I almost jump from my seat the moment the bell rings for lunch, and take full, quick strides as I rush to our table.
I look for the bronze hair first, and then the posture that can only belong to Edward, but it isn't there. He isn't there. Instantly, I feel almost heavier, and my fingers grow limp and everything sags as my anxiety is washed away. I feel almost disappointment at his absence.
Dejected, I drop into the bench next to Maria and open my lunch slowly, hoping to convince myself that I was in fact early. She doesn't turn to face me, rather curves into me involuntarily and continues with her lunch. James doesn't seem to notice my presence. I think of him, and our friendship, but there's nothing of that now. Maybe there never was.
A shadow looms over me, and I look up, unable to stop the smile spreading on my face. He looks down at me, hair over his forehead, grinning like a little boy. My heart rises, and I don't feel myself anymore, I only see him. The awkwardness from earlier vanishes, but he breaks away and sits opposite me, no lunch in his hands. I manage to catch James look up, falter, before returning to his lunch. I wonder what he is thinking, but he goes deeper than what I can manage.
I have to stop myself from continuously looking at Edward, but my eyes are drawn to him and his movements. My mouth doesn't open at all to talk- I leave this to the other people at the table, but I listen to the sound of his voice because, God, I've missed it.
He's not infatuated. He's perfectly at ease with me sitting opposite him, enjoying the light autumn wind, laughing, looking fine. I cower, the shy little boy I am, but I'm surprisingly angry, angry at him and his laughter, for no reason at all. Even though I anticipate talking to him like someone anticipates their birthday, I stand when I finish, announce my leave as appropriate, and overtake Edward, not missing his face when I walk past him.
I'm disappointed when I don't hear his steady gait behind me, but I've brought this upon myself. I regret not bringing my car, for the extra time walking home would provide enough time for my mind to grow confused and tired. There was a disadvantage to being solitary.
"Where are you going?" I hear him before I see him, so I turn to the sound of his voice. He stands next to his car, a confused expression painting his face.
"Home." I surprise myself with the word. Edward's house is my home.
"Without your car?" he smirks, as if he's laughing at my apparent stupidity.
"I didn't bring my car."
"Oh," he stops, perplexed. "Why?"
"My classes start later today. It's only a short walk."
"Get in."
"What?" But before he can reply, he's already opening the car door and getting in. I vowed not to get pushed around by him, but I can't resist his proximity and his smell, so I walk towards it tentatively.
My chest rises when I get in, his smell coating me, so much that I can't escape from it. Really, I don't want to.
We sit in silence. He doesn't bother to turn on the radio, doesn't bother to make conversation. My hands start sweating, fidgeting. An unusual urge floats to me, and urge to touch his hand and feel his skin, run the backs of my fingers over his veins. He's so close, but I can't do anything. I psych myself up, convince myself that I should start talking, but something holds me back, something steals the words from my mouth so that I have nothing to say anymore.
Eventually, I manage.
"Where were you?"
"That medical trip."
"To where?"
"China." Sarcasm. "God, Jasper, where do you think? It was a series of lectures on the functional architecture of the body, if you must know," he almost spits, an arrogance seeping through his words. I lay silent for a while, contemplating my next move.
"It's just that you didn't tell me."
"I did." He sounds unsure.
"When?"
"That night, in the car, when I drove you to uni one day. I told you about it then."
"I don't remember that."
"Yeah, well." He doesn't finish his sentence, and I can't help but wonder if he thinks I ignore him.
"You could have reminded me."
"When? I'm not a calendar, Jasper." I stop.
"I don't know, just before you left."
"I left at six in the morning."
"Well, the night before then!" My patience is fading,
"We didn't exactly leave the night before on great terms, did we?!" He faces me, electric eyes piercing my cheek, but I don't turn, too scared to face him now. His fingers curl around the steering wheel tightly, coiled like a snake, tendons showing. He looks forward again, and lets out a breath of air, defeated.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, and it's the first time I've heard him say it like this, soft and sincere. Love, love is the word that comes into my head, but that's just a fantasy, nothing more. It's just a stale word.
"It's ok. It was a mistake. It won't happen again, just an instinct, a rash action. The emotion was just overwhelming me, I'm sorry." I can't believe myself, but I can't stop. The words keep coming out, and I'm astounded by my ability to lie through my teeth, to lie to myself and to go against my beating heart, fail it in the cruellest way. I don't feel anything.
"Yes," is all he replies.
I rush into the house, wanting to get away from the guilt following me, but it clutches my shirt, holds me back, throws me to the ground. I feel as if I'm walking into a road without looking. You know that you shouldn't do it, that you should have looked, but you do it anyway because you can't go back. Somehow, you know that you've done the wrong thing, but you just don't bother. You keep walking. The fear escalates, until you're shocked and you finally regain some sense of reality, but by this time, it's generally too late.
I walk to my room through the foggy mist that clouds my eyes, makes me drowsy. I wonder what I've done, because I'm lost, I'm lost and I can't find my way out. The unknown scares me.
Edward seems fine. He smiles and talks and moves as he has always done, unaffected by our episode in the car. I envy him, but also wonder if he really is that heartless. If he has any idea what was involved earlier on today, what he was messing with. He leads the whole evening. I don't ask questions, only agree to his suggestions. Sometimes he laughs, and I can't help but laugh with him because I think he's beautiful.
I contemplate whether or not to bring up the kiss again, but I fear it will make us close up and shut down again, become like robots, so I make myself stay quiet even though it burns me inside.
"What are you thinking about?" It was an innocent question, but I hoped he got the message laced with it.
"Me?" Yes, you. "I am thinking…" he trails off, leaving me hanging in suspense. "I am thinking that Jessica Alba is actually hot," he laughs, but I'm confused.
"What?"
"I didn't used to think she was, but I've changed my mind." I don't want to hear about his fancies, his taste in women. His answer was something I was not expecting, but it put me in a bad mood nevertheless. "Why, what are you thinking?"
I quickly search for a mindless answer amongst the real reply. "Nothing."
"No, come on, you have to be thinking about something," he turns to face me, crosses his legs on the sofa and give me a light punch on the arm. I almost want to play this game just so I can feel his skin again.
"I'm not, honestly." He raises one eyebrow, enticing a laugh from me. But then I quickly remember something. "How do you know Maria?"
"Maria?" His eyebrows furrow, giving me a perplexed look. "I don't know Maria personally. Why?"
"Nothing, I was wondering."
"Did she say something?" I'm in dangerous waters now.
"No, she just said she knew what you were like."
"You two talk about me?" he is teasing me now, I am sure of it. I smile, hoping it will soften him. "Well, I am a frequent topic of conversation among many people, Jasper, I thought you knew that," he says sarcastically, unable to be truly vain.
"Oh, believe me, you are," I laugh, even though the statement has more truth in it than he can imagine.
We muse like that for hours that night, the TV becoming just background music for this film we act out. I can't help but compare this to modern love stories, although they don't manage to convey the torture he puts me through unknowingly. I love him. I do. I want to curve my head against the crook of his neck and feel the vein there with my tongue, alive and pulsing.
******
He makes me breakfast the next day, hair still mussed from sleeping, still in his pyjamas. I make a new discovery that morning.
He watches me eat, as if he has nothing else to do. Occasionally, he yawns, only putting his hand over his mouth after he catches me watching. Secretly, I am pleased that he's relaxed with me, and I want him to do it again. Once, he stretches both hands high above his head, his chest widening. He looks so powerful at that moment, I can't help my eyes from meeting his form, and he doesn't see me because is eyes are scrunched closed and his head is cocked forward and to one side. It's almost beautiful. His top lifts, showing the soft ivory skin of his stomach, stretching over his hipbones, dusted with fine brown hair from his navel. However, two words are etched just above his pants in a Jane Austen type print. Heal thyself. I stop eating.
"Edward?"
"Yes?" he smiles.
"I didn't know you had a tattoo."
"Oh, well, now you know," he laughs, unfazed by my discovery.
"When did you get it?"
"About a year ago, I think. Carlisle and Esme still don't know about it," he snickers, as if he's keeping a big secret.
"What does it mean?"
"What, what does 'heal thyself' mean?"
"No, I guess, I mean why did you get it?"
"I...," he falters here. "I don't know. I guess- I guess it's just an important saying to me."
"Oh," is all I can muster, sensing this conversation is finished.
******
That morning, I bump into Bella again. She smiles at me, missing out the polite greetings all together.
"Jasper! Guess what?" she bounces.
"What?"
"Edward apologised and we've agreed to stay friends!" she squeals. I am shocked for a moment, almost disappointed, but it doesn't affect me as much I thought it would. I smile at her, wish her well, although I can't help thinking that something might happen between them again. The thought worms its way into my head- I wonder if she thinks that this is her second chance. This makes me uncomfortable, make my body stand on edge as I prepare to watch the next few moments between them.
Lunch has become almost a religious routine between the group. No one's absence goes unnoticed, which can be a blessing and a curse. Bella has joined, passed the unspoken initiation test. She sits next to Edward now, but Edward sits opposite me. He's not coming home with me today, but he promises this is the only time- Bella needs a lift home. I feel carefree, relaxed now, but the shadow of my love still follows me no matter how hard I try to press it down. I've learnt to suppress it when we're not alone.
I follow his body as he recedes into the distance, shrinking until he's nothing more than a speck in the distance with Bella beside him. A smile slowly escapes my lips, a strange contentment surrounding my body. I loved him first.