It's time, it's time! Halloween for Bella and Jasper! So, as usual, everything Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I just like to play with the characters. Beta-ing done by the wonderful EdwardsMate4Ever.

(Sweet Jasper)

Band Practice (Jasper's POV) – Chapter 2

Because I am. The pull is so strong. I can't stand it when there is a shift in the wind and I'm stuck inside the auto. I want to get out and get on the pavement. I would be able to find it there.

I look around and see the signs for a Band Night. Band, huh? I check the mirror. With sunglasses and a guitar, I could walk into the school. No problem.

"It's strongest over here," I tell Emmett. "I could go in and find her. I just need a guitar as a prop."

"You can't play for shit," Emmett replies.

"Don't plan to," I snap back at him, irritated.

"Good," Emmett replies calmly, refusing to take the bait.

I'm glad. One of us has to stay cool, and I know I won't be able to. A sudden vision of her with a boy hits me and I nearly crush the steering wheel.

"Watch it, man. We've got to drive that thing back, remember?" Emmett chides.

I nod. Focus, Whitlock. You're looking for a place to pick up a guitar.

We drive around, looking for a pawn shop. Up the road, we find one. Money changes hands quickly, and I pick up a leather jacket to complete the look. We drive back to the school and I'm ready. Getting into the high school shouldn't be a problem. Carlisle is always putting us in high schools as part of his plan to blend in. I grin, thinking about how we have to beat the girls off. I've learned never to smile, as they always take it as a come-on.

Don't smile. But I'm only (formerly) human, and I can't help a grin now and then, just to watch the chaos that ensues. Female hormones smell great. I may not be able to taste or touch, but I can smell. The ladies like me, want me. If only they knew what I wanted back. And in this modern attire, it would be so easy.

In the old days, back when I was in the Civil War, there were layers of clothes to be removed. Now, there wouldn't be. And with my strength…well, it would make short work of any kind of material.

As the sun dips to the top of the pine trees, I realize I won't have to worry about any inconvenient sparkling. There is also plenty of cloud cover and even some crowd cover. I put on the shades and step out of the van. As soon as I do, I'm hit by a wall of that scent. It draws me, and the thirst that burns inside isn't just for blood. It's for blood and so much more.

Turning around, trying to get a sense of where she is, I get a good whiff which is cut off right after I hear a door close.

I spin around. That's when I see her. Brown hair and big soulful eyes—she's just inside the glass doors of the high school. I freeze and almost drop the guitar, suddenly insecure.

Why? She'll love me. They always do.

She sees me and her eyes widen slightly. Then she turns away.

WTF? I give a wry smile—that's a phrase I picked up from Emmett. Always makes Esme frown.

I reposition my grip on the guitar case and walk up to the door. Just as I enter, I see my prey—I mean, target, I mean…I don't know what I mean.

"Excuse me?" I say.

She turns around, the scent whirling around her, hitting me in the face and, well, everywhere else.

To my annoyance, a girl in a blue sequined halter top with her jugs nearly falling out trips up to me on heels too high for her to easily balance on. "Can I help you?" Busty asks.

The brunette mutters, "She's with the band."

This girl in the halter top doesn't smell fresh. She hasn't washed those jeans since she last made sexual contact.

"I'm OK, Miss," I reply and go after the brunette who is getting something out of a locker.

"How about you?" I ask. "Are you with the band?" Stupid, stupid. I asked if she was loose. Of course she isn't. One sniff tells me she's a virgin, not a slut.

"No," she replies softly.

I realize I'm hanging on her every word.

"My lucky night then," I say.

I can hear Emmett guffaw from the van. I had almost forgotten he was there. "Smooth," he says.

"Are you looking for the practice rooms?" she asks.

I suddenly remember the guitar, and that I can't play it. "Sure," I almost stutter. What if she wants to hear me play? Crap, crap, crap! Think, think, Whitlock!

I follow her down the hall, lagging behind slightly to get a bit of that heavenly scent and watch her move. She doesn't walk with confidence.

As we get out of earshot of the girl we left standing in the hall, she says, "I didn't think you would be able to hear me, all the way over here."

I pause and she stops, turning to me. "I was listening," I say. That was easy. Forget playing the guitar.

She blushes. The sight of that blood rising in her cheeks almost makes me come undone. Get a grip.

"Here we are," she said, gesturing to the door.

Here we are. And what am I to do? I run my fingers through my hair but then she turns to leave. No!

I reach for her wrist. Gentle, gentle. "Where are you going?" I ask.

"I thought you wanted to warm up," she says.

Wait, did she catch my nervousness? I sense her feelings. They are tangled up. She is feeling attracted to me (of course), but is feeling self-conscious too.

"I'm OK, I was just going to drop this off. We've got time before the show starts, right?"

She stares at me, as if unprepared for the word "we." If all goes well, we will be a we forever…

"Show me around?" I ask.

She's staring at me, and I'm starting to melt into those brown eyes. If I still breathed, I might be in trouble, because I would have forgotten how. Time seems to stop when I look at her.

"Sure," she replies. "Not that there's much to see."

Insecure and nervous? Maybe I haven't lost it after all. But I can't leave her like that. "I've already found something fascinating," I say.

I'm relieved to hear her heart race. But she's still nervous.

"OK, then," she says. "The school is new, but it's a site of major boredom. So let's go outside."

Outside. Perfect. Get away from all these other heartbeats. "After you," I say and bow. What, I bowed? Stupid and corny.

As we reach the front door, I open it and hold out my arm for her. She hesitates. I slip my arm around her waist and we walk out together.

As soon as we're through the door, instead of getting away from the other teenagers, we are confronted with a group of young males. And they are all eyeing my lady with interest. Worse, I can feel something coming from her. I glance over to see her smile. Not flirtatious. Something else.

My girl has depth. I suppress the snarl that's building inside and hustle her around the group. I can sense them staring at us as we walk off.

XX

So, Jasper's POV! Hope you're enjoying the story so far.

I really appreciate all of the support I've received for the story this year. My thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited or alerted the story.

Please leave a review and I will send a preview of the next chapter to all reviewers.