A/N: Welcome back! See you again at the bottom.

WARNING: This piece of fanfiction is rated M for slash, graphic language, and adult situations. Minors and wusses, click away, please. Also, S. Meyer owns all Twilight-related material. Thanks for letting us swing on your swings, Mrs. Meyer.

Chapter 2: The Path to Now

It occurred to me half-way through Principal Martinez's lecture on student responsibility.

Emmett knows the new boy. He's going to want to introduce me to him.

My heart clenched. As much as I wanted to know him—be honest, you want to do more than know him—I couldn't risk it yet. Given my instinctual reaction to him, I was sure that I wouldn't be able to avoid giving myself away in his presence. I needed time… time to desensitize myself to his effect on me.

Yeah, 'cause that worked so well with Emmett.

When we were finally dismissed to first period classes, I threw a hasty, "See ya later," at Bella and practically ran out of the auditorium. I saw Emmett raise a hand toward me, looking as though he would call me back, but I pretended not to see him and headed right to my locker on the other side of the building.

I stood there, panting as I struggled with the new locker combination I'd been assigned for this year. I finally got the damn thing open just as the first warning bell went off, making me jump.

Jeez, get a hold of yourself, Whitlock! It's just the goddamn bell.

I checked my schedule, grabbed my textbooks and a binder, and slammed the locker shut before booking it down the hall. The second bell rang just as I skidded into Mr. Banner's biology class, nearly dropping my books in the process. He gave me a pointed glare as I slumped into an empty seat at one of the back lab tables. I didn't notice who was next to me until too late.

Lauren Mallory.

Her wheat-blond head tilted once in my direction, but she refused to make eye contact with me.

Thank fucking god.

I'd never said more than two words to the girl, although we'd gone to school together since the fourth grade. Even so, our relationship was… complicated.

At Newton's annual Labor-Day blowout last year, I got totally shit-faced. I'd never really drunk a lot before, so after five shots of whatever Emmett was pouring, my head felt like it was floating two feet above my shoulders, and my feet felt like they were stuffed into three or four pairs of thick socks.

I remember nothing after downing those shots other than hazy visions of stumbling up the stairs from Mike's basement rec room in desperate search of a place to pee. I only have Emmett's word that he later found me passed out in an upstairs bathroom, my pants pulled down and my dick in Lauren Mallory's mouth.

Ugh. I shuddered at the thought. Lauren was, shall we say, less-than-discriminating with what she did and who she did it with. But let's face it. Even if she had been a perfectly nice girl who'd just gotten a little adventurous at a party, the idea of letting a girl touch me there was just plain off-putting.

The whole Labor Day fiasco was the reason I was stone-cold sober that weekend early in January, when Mike held another Friday night get-together at his parents' house. There was no way I was setting myself up for anything like that again. Also, I was scared shitless that I would let my secret slip while under the influence. I offered myself as permanent DD, which Emmett appreciated so much, he never bothered to question my motives.

The universities in the surrounding areas were still on winter break, so there was a disproportionate number of college-age people at this particular party. I guess word-of-mouth had something to do with it. At any rate, there was a bunch of older guys standing around the Newton's basement bar and drinking all the booze. Mike kept throwing them sullen looks, but he was too chicken to say anything to them.

I got sick of watching those college assholes hit on all the high-school girls, so I wandered upstairs to the main floor. I heard voices coming from the back of the house, but I couldn't tell who was speaking or what they were saying. I ambled into the designer kitchen, opening cabinets and peeking into the fridge. Grabbing an apple off the counter and taking a bite, I walked aimlessly back out of the room.

The voices I'd heard were louder now. One was low and masculine, and sounded angry. The other was feminine, higher-pitched and muffled.

Lovers' spat, I thought, even as I found myself moving closer to them.

I stopped in front of a closed door. From my previous visits to the Newtons' home, I knew this was a bathroom with an entrance that led out back to the pool. The voices were coming from inside. I pressed my ear to the door.

"You'll like it, alright. I know your type," said the masculine voice in a sneering tone. "You play the little virgin, but you like it rough, don't you?"

My apple dropped, forgotten, to the floor.

The female voice answered; the words were indiscernible but frantic. I didn't realize what I was doing until I'd already busted the door in with my shoulder. I barely felt the ache when I saw what was on the other side.

The guy wore a black leather jacket, his dull brown hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was straddling a struggling girl, his knees on her arms pinning her to the tile floor. One of his hands covered her mouth, while the other held the collar of her blouse as though about to rip it from her body. He had turned his head as I came through the door, and a scowl covered his features.

"What the fuck, man?" he growled. That's when I caught sight of the girl's face.

It was Bella Swan.

I'd known Bella since I moved to Forks when I was nine. She was new then, too, having come to live with her dad when her mom remarried. We'd always been friendly, but never too close. Nevertheless, I liked her. She was one of those people who were genuinely kind to everyone. She, of all people, didn't deserve to be manhandled like that.

"Get off her, man," I warned the asshole.

He didn't move. His eyes swept over me, judging and dismissing me.

"You got the wrong idea here, dude. Just go about your business." He turned his back on me.

Big mistake.

I might not have been beefy like Emmett, but my ex-marine daddy had taught me a few things. I swiftly grabbed the guy by the back of his neck and hauled him off of Bella. Before he could react, I had him on his back on the tile. I slammed my heel down on his stomach. He clutched his midsection, curling up and groaning.

"You're lucky I didn't crush your balls, motherfucker," I spat, breathing hard, adrenaline coursing through me. "Don't you ever touch Bella again. You do, and I'll fucking end you. You got me?"

He didn't answer, just kept moaning and holding his stomach. I leaned down and grabbed him by his ponytail, pulling his head back.

"You got me, asshole?" I repeated with venom. He cringed and nodded furiously. I let him go and stood up, looking over at Bella. She was pale and shaking.

"Come on, darlin'. Let's get you out of here." I offered her my hand and she took it, allowing me to help her up.

"Are you hurt?" I asked anxiously once I had her out in the hallway. She shook her head, her eyes wide.

"Jasper, that was… that was incredible. The way you just took him down like that–thank you so much." Tears welled up and started falling down her ashen cheeks.

I took her in my arms, hugging her gently but securely. The violence that had surged inside me drained away.

"It's alright, Bells. You're okay. He's not gonna hurt you, I promise."

She sobbed silently into my shirt for a few minutes. I just held her, whispering reassurances into her ear, caressing her hair. Finally, I lifted her chin with my hand.

"Do you want something to drink? Water, I mean?" Without waiting for an answer, I led her into the kitchen.

Emmett was there, peering into the open freezer.

"Does this fancy fridge have an ice maker or what?" He murmured. Then he saw us and his jaw dropped.

"What the hell happened?"

I looked at Bella, letting her know with my eyes that I wouldn't say anything. It was her story to tell, if she wanted. She gave me a small smile and turned back to Emmett.

"Jasper pulled some drunk guy off me. Pulled this totally cool street-fighter move on him and everything."

Emmett gaped at her.

"Jasper? This Jasper?"

I frowned.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence there, Em."

After a moment, he beamed at me.

"Never knew you had it in you, bro."

Yeah, Em, there's lots you don't know about me, I thought.

Emmett turned back to Bella, his expression morphing into one of concern.

"You alright, Bells? Did you get hurt?"

She shook her head.

"No, I'm okay. Jasper rescued me before anything really happened."

His eyes met mine, trying to assess whether or not she was telling the truth. I raised my eyebrow slightly, not willing to contradict her verbally. After a long moment, he returned his gaze to her.

"Who?" he said, his voice low.

Bella squirmed before answering.

"James."

Emmett's eyes narrowed.

"Ponytail? Black leather jacket?"

Bella nodded, looking at her feet.

"You wanna call the cops? I mean, your dad is the police chief…"

"No, Emmett," she said quickly. "My dad… he'll just worry about me even more. I don't want to..." she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders.

Emmett nodded once.

"I'll take care of it." Without another word, he left the kitchen.

I don't know exactly what happened in the rec room after that. All I know is that, in the space of five minutes, there was a mass exodus of college students from Mike's house. I didn't see James leave, and I never saw his face again after that night.

I insisted on driving Bella home and walking her to her door. She didn't put up much of a fight. Just before she went inside, she gave me a light peck on the cheek.

"Thanks again, Jasper. You really saved me. I can never thank you enough."

I colored slightly.

"Don't even think about it, Bells. You'd do the same for me."

"Well," she giggled, "Only if you showed me that neat move you did on James."

"You got it, darlin'. I'll show you all my super-ninja tricks, if you want."

"I should warn you, though," she said, "I'm horribly uncoordinated. I'll probably end up elbowing myself in the face."

"That's not really possible, Bella. You can't elbow yourself in the face." I snorted with amusement.

"Yeah, well," she said, laughing, "I make the impossible possible. Trust me, and keep your sensitive bits clear."

I laughed, too, as she wished me a good night and disappeared inside.

I never realized how funny she is, I mused as I got back into my car and drove home.

All weekend long, I alternated between feeling grateful that I'd gotten to Bella in time, and angry as fuck at that prick who had attacked her. I even called her Saturday afternoon, just to make sure she was really alright. My protective feelings toward her grew alongside my admiration for her warmhearted wit and her graciousness.

On Monday, as I pulled into the school parking lot, I saw Bella there, leaning against the tomato-red monstrosity she called a truck. She waved to me, smiling as I got out of the car and walked toward her.

"Hey, Bella," I greeted her, inordinately glad to see her.

"Hey, Super Ninja," she returned. I grinned and blushed.

We began hanging out together during lunch and after school, trading quips and debating the merits of our favorite bands and authors. I was amazed at how quickly we bonded, and I found myself eager to spend time with her. She never judged or criticized me. She was sharp and observant, but her teasing was always gentle. I felt like I could tell her anything. Well, almost anything.

I don't know what held me back, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her my secret. I'd hidden that part of myself for so long that I wasn't sure I could let it out to anyone. Even Bella.

I should have known better.

After a few weeks of this new closeness between us, I started to worry that her feelings for me were changing. She reached for my hand an awful lot, and kissed me on the cheek quite often. She told me I made her feel safe, and I worried that "safe" was girl-code for "romantic." Kids at school started to make comments about us being together, which I suppose was a convenient smokescreen for me, but which fueled my anxiety. I didn't know how to tell her I couldn't return her feelings.

We were at her house one Wednesday afternoon, watching reruns of Top Chef. I was sitting on one end of the couch, and she was lying down with her head in my lap. This wasn't an uncommon position for us to take but, for some reason, today it felt uncomfortable. I pulled her to sit up and face me.

"Bella," I began, feeling the blood rise in my cheeks, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Jasper. What's up"

I opened my mouth and closed it again, trying to come up with the least embarrassing way of saying what I needed to say. Bella waited patiently for me to gather my thoughts.

"How– " I stammered, "How do you… feel about me?"

She gave me a quizzical look.

"Well, you're my friend. Probably my best friend." Her expression turned sad. "Do you think we're spending too much time together? I'll understand, really…"

"No, no, Bells," I interrupted her. "You're my best friend, too. I love hanging out with you." Her face cleared. I looked down at my lap, wondering how to continue.

"Jazz?" she said. "Do you… did you think I might have a– a crush on you?"

I nodded slowly, not meeting her eyes.

"Jazz, look at me, please."

I complied reluctantly.

"Jazzy, I love you as a friend, but believe me when I tell you that you are definitely not my type." She giggled, then sighed. "To be honest, I'm not really sure what my type is."

"But it's not me?"

"No, I promise I don't feel that way about you. You're like my brother. I feel like I can depend on you, you know? Like you'll always be there for me."

I let out the breath I'd been holding.

"Me, too, Bells. I feel like I can tell you anything."

"Anything?" she asked, with a sly glint in her eye.

"Um –" I began, but she cut in.

"I'll understand if you're not ready, Jazz. But I'm your friend, your best friend. I know you." She took a breath before continuing. "I see the way you look at Emmett."

I gulped, feeling a pit open in my stomach. Sensitive as she was, though, she only let me stew for a second.

"I guess," she said in a quiet voice, "it's the same way I look at his sister."

I felt the muscles of my chest and shoulders unclench as I took this in.

"Oh. Wow."

"Surprised?" she asked.

"Yeah." I nodded. "But I didn't really get a chance to see you with Alice much, considering she's two grades ahead of us. You had the advantage over me, there."

"True," she said. "There were other clues, though. I mean, neither one of us ever talked about someone of the opposite sex—at least, not in a romantic way."

"That should have tipped me off, huh?" I smiled ruefully. "Sorry I wasn't paying attention."

"Yeah, you self-absorbed Super Ninjas are a real pain in the ass," she replied, flicking my ear with her finger. I tickled her in retaliation, and she writhed out of my reach.

"So, Alice, huh?" I said when we had calmed down.

She blushed and tilted her chin down.

"Isn't it funny how we ended up crushing on siblings?"

"Technically, they're half-siblings," I said. "But who's counting?"

We looked at one another then, awareness and empathy flowing back and forth between us. It was a surreal moment for me. I never thought I'd be able to tell anyone I was gay, and here I was, talking about it openly with Bella Swan. If someone had told me a few months ago that this would happen, I would have called them crazy, or a liar, or both.

I found myself spilling my guts to her. I told her about the moment I'd first realized I was gay. I was thirteen and I popped a boner over the scene in Blade: Trinity where a shirtless and deliciously ripped Ryan Reynolds is chained and interrogated by the bad vampires. Leaving the theater that day, my friends couldn't stop talking about Jessica Biel kicking ass, and I'd been mortified when I realized how different my reaction had been. When Emmett had clapped me on the shoulder, grinning and asking if I thought she was "fuckhot," I'd nodded vigorously, desperate to fit in and be considered normal.

It was soon after the Blade incident, I told Bella, that my feelings for Emmett had started to develop. He was popular, athletic, and good-looking, with his wavy dark hair and ice-blue eyes. He was a good friend, too, always backing me up even though I was awkward and shy. Because he liked me, the other guys accepted me into their group. I never felt completely comfortable around him, though, always worried that my attraction to him would become obvious.

The guys I hung out with all bandied insults like "fag," "fairy," and "homo" all the time, never realizing that, with every epithet, they drove me further into hiding. My parents did the same thing, albeit in another way. My mama always talked about me finding a nice girl someday. My daddy—the gruff, no-nonsense former Marine—was a real "man's man." I couldn't bear to think about disappointing them, or having them reject me. So I played the part of the good son. I told Mama that I wanted to focus on my studies, and that I would concentrate on dating when there wasn't so much pressure to keep my grades up for college applications. She bought it, patting my cheek and calling me her "studious little angel." It bothered me to deceive her, but I didn't know what else to do.

Bella listened to my rant, putting in a sympathetic comment every so often. When I wound down, she launched into her own story. Her awareness of her sexual orientation had come more gradually than mine. There was no "aha" moment for her, just a slow awareness that she found other girls attractive. Her crush on Alice came about during freshman year, when they both worked behind the scenes for the school play. Alice was a junior then, and she did the costume design for the show, while Bella painted scenery. Petite, beautiful Alice was bubbly and friendly, and made Bella feel like part of the group. But, as she grew more attracted to Alice, Bella worried that the older girl would never return her feelings, so she pulled back to protect her heart.

I hugged her when she said that, understanding exactly what she was going through.

"Did you ever tell anyone about all this besides me?" I asked.

"No." She sighed. "My dad isn't… comfortable talking about this kind of stuff, and my mom is too busy with her own life to take much interest in mine."

I tightened my arms around her.

"Well, then, darlin'," I said, "It's a good thing I'm around."

*~*~*

I was startled when the bell rang again. Mr. Banner called out the homework assignment as everyone around me gathered their books and started shuffling off to their next classes. Beside me, Lauren hastily stuffed her papers into her binder and turned away without a glance at me. I knew she thought I hated her.

I couldn't exactly say I was happy about Lauren trying to suck me off, but I couldn't be completely upset about it, either. If she hadn't taken advantage of me when I was wasted, I wouldn't have been sober at the party in January, and I wouldn't have been able to rescue Bella. We would never have become best friends. It made me sick to think about that. I couldn't go back to hiding from everyone. Sharing my true self with just one other person—with Bella—made me feel like a whole person for the first time in my life.

Contemplating gratitude toward Lauren Mallory was too fucked up for this early in the day, especially since I was also stressing over the new boy. I sighed heavily as I trudged off to trig class, wishing I had the guts to ditch school for once.

The rest of my morning classes dragged interminably. Visions of unruly bronze hair and low-slung jeans kept distracting me, along with jolts of fear at my uncontrollable reactions. I couldn't wait for lunch just to get some sugar and/or caffeine into my system so I could snap myself out of this funk I was in.

Finally, finally, the bell rang. Pushing away the dangerous, seductive images in my head, I leaped out of my seat and jogged to my locker to dump my books. Loping toward the cafeteria, I rounded the corner and skidded to a halt, my visions from that morning erupting and raining down on me like fiery hail.

Emmett was in the doorway of the caf, talking to Eric and… the new boy.

I'm fucked.

A/N continued: Huge thanks to everyone who read and alerted/favorited/reviewed. You all make me squee with delight. Seriously. RL sucks donkey testicles at the moment, which means I had a choice between writing this chapter and replying to each of you who took the time to write a much-appreciated review. I thought you'd prefer the chapter over the replies. Hope I was right. :-)

At any rate, I do want to answer some of your questions.

(1) Yes, this story will be entirely in JPOV. I may do some outtakes from Emmett's or Edward's POV, as need and/or opportunity arise.

(2) Never having written a multi-chapter fic before, I can't tell you if I will be able to stick to a regular posting schedule. Right now, I seem to have the creative juices flowing. I'll start from there and see how it goes.

That's all for now. I think we're through the back-story at this point and, soon enough, the citrus will ripen. I hope you're still enjoying this little fic – please feel free to let me know. Thanks again, everyone.