Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is the intellectual and creative property of Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown and Company. Any references to this work or direct quotes are borrowed. No plagiarism is intended. No profit is being gained from the publication of this fan-created work.
Author's Note: Thank you to everyone for the amazing reviews! You're all so encouraging. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Leave a review and let me know!
"Don't tell me where I am. Tell me how far I've come from where I left behind me."
-Norma Farber
"You've kept me waiting a long time, Jasper Whitlock," she said, her face curving into an easy smile.
Jasper stared at her, uncertainly, for a long moment.
The girl stared back, expectantly.
He ducked his head, finally breaking eye contact. "I'm sorry, ma'am."
She laughed and her voice was a thousand tiny bells all ringing at once.
He swallowed another gulp of the brown sludge in his cup, not tasting it. He looked up at her, again, at a complete loss.
"Aren't you going to invite me to join you?" she asked, hands on her hips.
Jasper fought a strange, unfamiliar urge to smile. He stood awkwardly and motioned to the seat across from him. A phrase from his now distant boyhood surfaced in his memory, "May I have the pleasure of your company?" The words sounded stilted, far away.
"I thought you'd never ask," the girl sighed dramatically, flopping down on the leather cushion.
He sat again, tensing as she reached across the table to brush his arm.
"I'm so glad you're here! I thought I'd gotten my days mixed up for sure!" she said brightly.
He could not answer. He sat, teeth clenched, his red eyes on her small white hand where it lay across his forearm.
"Oh!" she said, in realization, pulling back. "That's hard for you, isn't it? I'm sorry." She put her hands in her lap.
Jasper took another sip from his cup, automatically.
"What does that taste like?"
He studied her for a moment and then, setting the cup on the table, nudged it towards her, slowly.
She lifted it to her lips, drinking. She made a face and set it down again. "Whatever possessed you to order that? It's awful! Not that the milkshake I had was any better. I don't really know why anyone would want to drink something frozen. It seems to entirely defeat the purpose of cooking! Although, I've never cooked myself. I've heard it's nice, though. Have you heard that?"
Jasper couldn't remember the last time he'd heard so many words at one time.
Alice continued as if he'd answered her, "I wouldn't know. Food all smells the same to me. This place, especially. It's new, you know? This place? They built it this year. I like the paint. Do you? The colors are so exciting! Red is such a lively color. Like Scarlett O'Hara. She had red hair. And beautiful dresses…" the girl trailed off, wistfully. "Did you see Gone With the Wind?"
He shook his head.
"It was about the War Between the States, you know? And Scarlett is madly in love with Ashley but she always ends up with Rhett. I don't know why. He's never very nice to her. Isn't that horrible?"
She stopped and waited for him to speak.
Jasper was trying very hard to make sense of the sudden and torrential outpouring and having little success. "How…" he said, finally forcing the words out, "How do you know my name?"
For the first time since she had sat down, the girl looked unsure of herself. "I know lots of things," she said, reluctantly.
He watched her, the curve of her cheek as she tilted her head, the narrow slope of her nose, the shadow her long, dark lashes cast across the angular planes of her face. Tentatively, Jasper reached out with his mind to feel again…whatever she was feeling. He almost gasped aloud as the waves of certainty and unthinking adoration reached him. "Who are you?" he blurted out, all manners forgotten.
"My name is Alice. And… " She smiled a smile of complete satisfaction, "I've been waiting for you for so long."
"I…didn't know." He couldn't think of anything else to say.
"I wasn't sure how long it would take you to get here," Alice said. "It's not really a precise art."
"I still don't understand. How do you know me?" he leaned towards her across the table.
"May I cut your hair?"
Jasper straightened, suspicious. "What? Why?"
"It gets in your eyes so much."
"It doesn't grow anymore," he said, his face guarded.
"And that means it really has been a century since you had your hair cut, hasn't it?" Alice looked smug.
"The year I enlisted…"
"And when was that?"
"Eighteen hundred and sixty-one, I believe."
Alice's tiny face lit up with interest. "Really? How old are you?"
Jasper looked uncomfortable, "I thought you knew everything."
She shook her head, "Not the past."
Her stare was so intense he looked down, his long slender fingers tracing the grooves in the table. He could feel her eyes on him and he shifted uncomfortably before looking back up. A wave of tenderness hit him again and he stifled the surprised sound in his throat, leaning farther away from her.
"I can't believe it's really you," she breathed.
"Alice," he said, forcing the unfamiliar name between his teeth.
She seemed to melt at the sound. "Jasper?"
"Why were you waiting for me?"
She smiled, her teeth glinting brightly in the dingy light of the diner. "You won't believe me."
"What do you want from me?"
Alice looked surprised, "I want you to come with me."
He frowned, "Where?"
"You'll have to trust me, Jasper," Alice said, simply, holding out a tiny white hand to him.
He stared, transfixed, at her hand, her palm flat and open. He glanced up at her expectant face. A memory seared through him, bringing another smiling face to mind…blindingly white teeth, pale, olive skin, black hair flowing. A blood red mouth hung open in laughter. He shut his eyes, blotting out the image.
"Can you trust me, Jasper?" Alice asked, quietly.
He swallowed once, willing the memory into oblivion and opened his eyes. Setting his mouth in a hard line, he reached out and took her hand.
TO BE CONTINUED
Author's Note: Thoughts? I'd love to hear them! That magical button is only a click away!
