*Jemima*

"You look...like a prostitute."

...

I heard Rosalie's sharp intake of breath, and felt Jasper stiffening. I glanced across Emmett at Rose worriedly. She looked back at me, anger still clear in her beautiful eyes. In fact, I felt every pair of eyes on me. Awkwardly, I looked up at Jasper out of the corner of my eyes. He was staring down at me with a concerned expression. I blushed again.

Keeping my hurt feelings from taking over, I stood up quickly,

"Hey, Mum...maybe you should...give the alcohol a rest, okay?" I rushed, taking the glass of red liquid from my mum.

"Jemima...what are you...no...come here!"

She followed me into the kitchen, stumbling a little.

"Jemima! What do you think you're doing? How could you be so rude when we have guests?"

I stayed silent. I didn't trust myself to answer respectfully. Instead, I turned to the sink and tipped her wine away. I felt a hand on my shoulder,

"Listen to me!"

I turned to her, but she didn't let go. In fact, she dug her nails into my shoulder.

"Ow! Mum...you're hurting me..."

"Good! You should hurt for what you did!"

"...What! Mum I haven't- "

"It's your fault!" she drew back her hand, and slapped my face, "it's your fault he left!"

I held my burning cheek, "Mum...you're not thinking straight."

"I'm thinking fine! You, on the other hand, are crazy. What are you doing with that boy? He's much too good for you, Jemima. You don't deserve love!"

Tears in my eyes, I left her. I ran upstairs, keeping the tears in for as long as I could. When I reached my room, I couldn't hold it in any longer.

Dropping onto the bed, I began to cry. My body shook with sobs, and I stuffed my face into the pillow.

I cried for a long time, or it felt like it, but eventually, I had no more tears to cry. Sitting up slowly, I shakily wiped the tears from my eyes. Already, I felt better, which was a little strange. I felt...happy. Why!

I heard the rumble and purr of two different engines. I walked to the open window, and looked out. A huge four-wheeler roared in the middle of the road, before screeching off. I thought I glimpsed Rosalie's blonde hair in the passenger seat. A sleek black car, almost invisible in the night, slipped away to follow the four-wheeler. There was only one Cullen left (well, Hale). Jasper stood almost invisible in the tree line beside my house. As soon as he saw my face, he disappeared. Suddenly he was beside me, his expression worried.

"Are you okay? Sit down." He led me to the bed (no, not in THAT way), and sat me down. He wiped the rest of the moisture from my face, and pushed the hair out of my eyes. Realizing I didn't want to (or couldn't) speak, Jasper opened his stone-like arms. I didn't need any more prompting. I moved to hug him, but he pulled me onto his lap, resting my head on his chest.

I closed my eyes, and clutched his jumper, burying my face in it.

"Shhh..." Jasper said, stroking my hair.

In his arms, I found that I felt happy, and safe.

We sat like that for a long time, until eventually, I fell into sleep.