Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Things are about to start picking up in the story, I realized this is getting quite long and I don't really want to write a novel here…I'm far too lazy for that :P. Alas, enough of my rambling and here's the long awaited new chapter after my hiatus, enjoy…
I hesitantly opened the door, expecting a barrage of my family members to swarm us like bees. However, much to my amazement, no one attacked us at the door. Amanda followed me into the living room of the house, where only Emmett was…watching a football game or something. I wasn't paying attention. I was more concerned with what the rest of them might be plotting. Maybe an elaborate ambush or intervention-esque scene.
"Hey Jazz," Emmett greeted, then after seeing Amanda behind me added, "Amanda! You finally came over!!" Amanda laughed at his bellowing and waved. "Where is everyone?" I asked, furrowing my brow in borderline anxiety. "I dunno, they're around somewhere," Emmett answered, giving us his full attention since his game was on commercial. He looked particularly mischievous today, I didn't trust him.
"Yeah, anyway, we're going to go upstairs and look at some of my books," I said, giving Emmett a reproving look ahead of time for whatever madness I feared was coming on. He laughed at me then shooed us away, his beloved game had come back on.
I turned to speak to Amanda, but she wasn't there, she was looking at Esme's drawings and plans for the house she was renovating that were on the table a few feet away in the dining area that opened into the living room. "Sorry," Amanda began, looking up sheepishly, "I didn't mean to snoop. But I saw paint samples and was instantly intrigued." "Not a problem," I said, "Esme, my adopted mother, likes to renovate and decorate old houses." "She has some awesome ideas," she said, gesturing to a few of the sketches. "She, Alice and Rosalie sit for hours and pick all this out, they seem to almost enjoy it," I said in bewilderment, "it must be a woman thing." "Shut up…Jazz." Amanda chuckled in sarcasm.
"Oh God, not you too!" I moaned. I wasn't a fan of the nickname. I thought it was a nice gesture and all, kind of a sign of affection and acceptance, but I still found it horrendous. Jazz. I shuddered.
"Yeah, that is pretty bad…be nice to me or I'll call you that all the time!" she laughed. "Blackmail's the way to go!" Emmett shouted from the living room. "I'll remember that, Em!" I retorted, meandering with Amanda back out to the living room. He scowled and turned back to his game. "So, do you guys call Edward 'Ed'? Because that would be too hilarious," Amanda grinned broadly, clearly amused by our banter. "Er, no, I value my life…and my car," Emmett said, "I did once and it didn't end well." I chuckled as I recalled that particular incident. It took Emmett almost a week to collect all the pieces of his jeep from the woods. Even Rosalie couldn't reassemble the jeep.
"Shall we?" I asked, gesturing towards the stairs and holding out one arm to her, taking the canvas in the other. "Let's," she concurred, linking her arm with mine, "Although I think I can manage on my own." "I know, but it's more fun to be dramatic in front of Emmett," I admitted, leading her down the hall to my room. I could hear Alice piddling in her room which made me all the more suspicious. I shrugged it off and kicked open my door.
I probably should have tidied up a bit; you'd think that having unlimited time would have made me a cleaner person. Or a cleaner creature, rather. My room was a bit bland in comparison to hers, the walls were blue and the bedding was gray. It was Alice's doing, I couldn't have cared less, but she said they were 'calming' colors and wanted to do it, so I obliged. One whole wall was nothing but bookshelves, yet books were still strewn around the room. I didn't really have anything on the walls but there was a large window that provided an opening to the outside world.
"Sorry it's in disarray," I apologized, unsure of what to say. Not many people, even the ones I lived with, ever came in my room, it was odd to have someone, a living person nonetheless, in my personal space.
"I'll try and get over it," Amanda rolled her eyes at my apology. I always felt like I was saying the wrong things around her, yet they never took her by surprise or bothered her. Of course, her excellent sarcasm skills could diffuse any situation, which nicely diffused my increasing bouts stupidity around her.
I wondered what would happen if I told her the truth about me. What I really was. I reasoned that she would either freak out and skip town, or take it in stride. I didn't think she would freak out, she seemed quite unshakable. I entertained the notion of telling her, which terrified me; I had never even thought of letting anyone, let alone some random human girl, get so close to me.
"Find anything interesting?" I asked, sitting on the corner of the bed and watching her peruse the thousands of titles contained on my shelves. "I think you have every book I've ever read, wanted to read, or even thought about reading and then some," she said in what I perceived as admiration. I smiled and watched her continue looking before I directed her to the area where I kept my Civil War books. I don't even know why I had Civil War books, I was there and I'm quite aware of how it happened. Maybe a few shreds of me were clinging on to my lost humanity or some such.
"I'm gonna start coming to you when I need sources for papers," Amanda laughed, sitting down in the floor and flipping through the large book in her lap. I found myself watching her, mesmerized by her movements. Even just flipping through the pages, her movements were almost catlike in their grace. I had never seen that in a person before. I figured I was, obviously, losing my mind. It was only a matter of time, really, my brain had served me well for nearly 200 years, it had to go sometime. We can't all be as lucky as Carlisle.
"I've got some original things from that era, too," I began, "Nothing much really, just an old uniform and some photographs. It's not museum quality or anything, but I'll be glad to show you if you want." Her eyes lit up. "That would be awesome!" she chorused, popping up off the floor. I opened the closet and pulled out a box that was supposed to protect against moths and the aging of garments or whatever. Alice had given it to me.
I set the box on the bed and went back to the closet, digging for an envelope with the photos. I found it shortly and flung it onto the bed, also. "You can open it," I encouraged, "it won't bite." "I know that," she sneered, "I don't want to damage it or anything. I'd feel bad if it disintegrated in my hands, but that's the kind of luck I have."
"I hardly think you can damage it," I stated, amused by her reluctance. She opened the box and flung aside the paper that the uniform was wrapped in…another of Alice's doings. She gazed at the jacket that rested on top, she seemed afraid to touch it. "Go ahead, pick it up," I encouraged, curious to further see her reaction. I absentmindedly began flipping through the pictures I had retrieved, trying to disguise my staring at her.
She gave me a wary look. "Just don't hate me if I destroy it," she mumbled, earning a grin from me that she didn't see. She then picked up the jacket ,laid it on the bed and began smoothing it out to better see what adorned the front. "Whitlock," she said quietly, grazing a finger over the name patch. "Who's is this?" she asked, looking up at me curiously.
"Mine," I answered, making a snap decision that not even Alice could have seen coming. "Well yeah, it's yours now, but who wore it? One of your ancestors?" she continued, as if she could ever have guessed the truth. "I did," I said quietly, reaching over and handing her one of the pictures.
She glanced down at it then back up at me. I sat very still, afraid that any sudden movement would alarm her. But I didn't pick up on any fear from her... yet. Shock or surprise maybe, but not fear. "It looks like you…but it can't be," she said slowly, searching for words, "It doesn't make any sense at all. This is some prank isn't it? I bet Emmett's in on it."
"It's no prank," I assured her. "Then…what's going on?" she asked cautiously. "It's a long story," I said, looking her in the eyes for the first time since I had started this. "I've got time," she countered, sitting on the bed next to me. "But not as much time as I have," I began, dreading saying the next sentence, "You see, I'm a vampire."