Left of Normal Chapter 17: The Clearing, a twilight fanfic

A/N Twilight is the property of Stephanie Meyer. Anya Simms is all mine.

Chapter 17: The Clearing

JPOV

Sun Jan 16/05 PM

I was never so happy then when Anya suggested we 'Blow this popsicle stand,' the tension had been thick, Eddie boy was broody, and Carlisle seemed to be missing the point about what Anya had to say.

And she called me Tex. I wondered if that was my nickname from the books. From babysitter to private eye and now to chauffeur, a step up this time. We'd been driving aimlessly for a while, no destination in mind. The banter with her was amusing, I still couldn't believe that Eddie of all people falls in love. How? With whom? Again, how? Did the guy even know how to relax long enough to find love?

We had settled into a silence, a comfortable silence. But I could tell she was thinking about something. The occasional smile playing on her lips, the way she glanced out the window like she was waiting for something. Eventually, I pulled over to the side of the road, a small clearing just ahead catching my eye. Without a word, I cut the engine, stepping out into the wintry air. Anya followed, and I could feel her curiosity, her amusement, as she took in our surroundings.

No fear about being alone in the woods with a dangerous vampire. Just that baseline emotional cocktail I craved.

We started walking, the silence between us still comfortable. After a few minutes, I noticed that same smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, a quiet laugh escaping her as she looked up at the sun filtering through the trees.

"What's so funny?" I asked, genuinely curious as I caught the glint of amusement in Anya's eyes.

She glanced at me mischievously. "Well, if you end up in a patch of sunlight, I promise to be dutifully dazzled by the sparkle."

I couldn't help but laugh, feeling more at ease with her than I had with anyone in a long time. "Let me guess," I teased, leaning into the moment. "Did my creator wax poetically about the sparkle too?"

Anya didn't miss a beat. She deadpanned her response, "Let's just say the fangirls all have T-shirts that say, 'My boyfriend sparkles.'" She rolled her eyes, the sarcasm thick. "It's a whole thing."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Well, I guess we all have our roles to play, even if that means being a walking disco ball."

We kept walking, but her words lingered in my mind. The thought of her being "dazzled" by me felt oddly reassuring, even as a small part of me worried. I wasn't exactly the kind of vampire who sparkled—at least, not in the way I think she was implying. The bite marks crisscrossing my skin were a reminder of that, a permanent mark of a past I couldn't escape. But Anya didn't seem to notice or care. She was too busy enjoying the moment, her happiness infectious.

I found myself drawn to that, the way she embraced life with such ease, even after having lunch with a roomful of vampires.

But still I wondered, she said I only had a few pages of backstory, did those fleeting pages actually cover the extent of my early existence? The things I had done, the humans I had fed from. The newborns I had destroyed. Maria. I tried to push those thoughts to the back of my mind and focused instead on the present.

"Dutifully dazzled, huh?" I said, letting the humour back into my voice. "I'll hold you to that."

She laughed, the sound light and carefree. "You better. I'm expecting a full-on light show, or I'm asking for my money back."

We kept walking until we found a fallen log just off the path, partially shaded by the trees. The sun filtered through in patches, but Anya made no move to sit in the light. She didn't seem intent to press the issue which I appreciated. We settled on the log, side by side, the silence between us comfortable, almost companionable.

Anya pulled out her MP3 player, scrolling through her music. She didn't bother offering me an earbud—she obviously knew I could hear just fine without it. Instead, she popped one in her ear and let the music play. The familiar opening notes of "Closing Time" by Leonard Cohen filled the air, that rich, deep voice weaving through the trees.

It wasn't long before we both started singing along, our voices blending quietly with the song. We sat like that for a while, letting Leonard Cohen's words carry us, no need to fill the silence with anything else. It was peaceful, something I didn't get to experience often.

But then, out of nowhere, Anya started laughing again, the sound bubbling up with a mix of amusement and something else—maybe a touch of embarrassment.

I turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "What now?"

She looked at me, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I just realized... I forgot to pack something to drink. And I'm thirsty. Like, really thirsty. And it hit me that, well, that should be something you'd be struggling with, not the 'librarian.'"

Okay, so she knows about thirst. I couldn't help but chuckle at that, shaking my head. "You're right. That's usually my line of thinking."

She laughed with me. "It's just... I don't know, ironic, I suppose."

"Ironic, maybe," I agreed, a grin still on my face. "But oddly enough, this particular librarian doesn't make me thirsty." At least not in that way, your emotional cocktail? That I crave.

Anya smiled at that, a little more relaxed now. "Well, that's good to know. I'd hate to think I was cramping your style."

"Nah," I said, still smiling. "You're doing just fine." As long as you don't dive off the deep end into that dark deadly toxin like last night, we are all good.

Anya tilted her head, before mischievously asking. "Aren't you supposed to be a Southern gentleman? Shouldn't you be helping a damsel in distress?"

I raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued by her sudden playfulness. But before I could respond, she burst into laughter, the sound infectious and full of joy.

I couldn't help but be a little perplexed. "What's so funny now?"

She tried to catch her breath, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "Oh, it's just... during our book club meetings, I'd do these dramatic readings. Everyone loved my impression of Edward—all broody and intense—but they absolutely lost it at my awful attempt at a Texan drawl."

I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face. "Is that so? You've been practicing your Southern charm, have you?"

She nodded, still laughing. "It was terrible. They roared with laughter every time. I was like, 'Well, I do declare, ma'am,' and it just went downhill from there."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sounds like you were the star of the show."

"More like the comic relief," she admitted, still grinning.

"Can't argue with that," I said, enjoying her lightheartedness. Her laughter was infectious, and I found myself fighting the urge to open my senses and just soak in her emotional cocktail.

Anya batted her eyes at me. "So, Mr. Southern Gentleman, think you can give me a few tips on perfecting my drawl? You know, for when I need to save the day with a little more... authenticity."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I think you've got your own charm, Anya. But if you ever need some pointers, I'm happy to help."

She smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "Thanks, Jasper. I'll keep that in mind."

It was after dark before I returned home, nearly twenty-four hours spent in the company of Anya. I mean she did sleep for about eight of those, but not once did I feel my bloodlust get the better of me. I did hunt before returning home, wanting to draw out what I knew would be waiting for me – a barrage of questions. My family's curiosity had probably been simmering since Anya's revelation at lunch, and I wasn't about to get a moment's peace until they got some answers.

Sure enough, I hadn't even set my jacket down when Emmett was on me, grinning. "Well, look who finally decided to show up," he teased, leaning against the doorway. "So, what the hell did you do all day with our new favourite interloper? Go on a wild adventure? Or did she finally crack and admit she's secretly plotting to take over the world?"

I rolled my eyes, shrugging off my jacket and tossing it onto the nearest chair. "Nothing that dramatic, Em."

"Really?" he pressed, clearly fishing for details. "So, what happened? Did she freak out, or what?"

Before I could answer, Edward appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression more skeptical than usual. Typical. Alice was right behind him, her curiosity barely concealed, and Esme lingered by the kitchen, trying to appear casual as she listened in.

"No, she didn't freak out," I said, meeting Edward's gaze. His intense stare was starting to feel a little old, like he was permanently stuck in Heathcliff mode. I couldn't help but feel a flicker of exasperation. It was one thing to be cautious, but Eddie boys' relentless brooding was starting to wear thin. "She didn't even seem surprised. Remember, she already told us—she sees us as characters in a book. To her, none of this is real."

"That's still hard to wrap my head around," Rosalie said from her spot on the couch, her arms folded as she studied me. She was always the skeptic, but this time, I could see the genuine curiosity behind her guarded expression. "So, she spent the whole day with you, knowing what we are, and she wasn't scared?"

"No," I repeated, trying to keep my voice calm despite the growing tension in the room. "She wasn't scared because she's convinced this world is fictional. She's careful, though. She's not pushing any boundaries or trying to force the issue."

Edward's brow furrowed in thought, his arms still crossed like some brooding hero in a gothic novel. Seriously, he needed to lighten up. "Then what did you two talk about all day? She must've been trying to figure things out, just like us."

I sighed, knowing they'd be skeptical of the answer. "We talked about a lot of things. Her book club, mostly. She never gave anything away, though. She's careful about that."

Careful seemed to be the theme with Anya. While she was playful and amusing, she kept what she knew about the story to herself. And really, I didn't feel the need to press or ask. I had no reason to doubt her story, as fantastical as it was. I did however stop believing she was a master spy or in military intelligence. Eddie boy though just couldn't seem to let it go. Not everyone was out to unravel us. I had to remind myself that Edward's protective instincts, however overbearing, came from a good place. But damn if it wasn't exhausting watching him go all Heathcliff every time something didn't add up perfectly.

Edward's eyes narrowed, and before I could even finish the thought, he snapped, "For the last time, I am not Heathcliff!"

The sudden outburst caught everyone off guard, and I couldn't help it—a laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Really?" I teased, still chuckling. "Because you're doing a damn good impression. Honestly, Edward, you're just proving Anya's point."

As I said it, my mind flashed back to those first two days after Anya arrived in town. Edward had spent hours perched in trees, brooding in the freezing rain, while I was stuck there, annoyed at having to babysit him. We watched as Anya unpacked and set up her house, singing and dancing around without a care in the world. Meanwhile, Edward brooded silently like a character straight out of a gothic novel.

I shook my head, muttering under my breath, "If that ain't Heathcliff, I don't know what is."

Edward shot me a look, but I could see the others struggling to hide their amusement. Even Esme looked like she was holding back a smile.

I shrugged, still grinning. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. Maybe if you lightened up a bit, you wouldn't get compared to gothic novel characters."

Edward just rolled his eyes and then stomped out of the room. Once more proving my point.

"Book club?" Emmett raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by the idea. "What did she say about us? Anything interesting?"

I allowed myself a small smile, remembering the easy banter with Anya. "She told me how she used to do dramatic readings for her book club. Apparently, everyone loved her impression of Edward—she nailed the broody intensity. But they really cracked up at her terrible attempt at a Texan drawl."

Emmett burst out laughing, clapping his hands together. "Oh man, I would pay to see that! I bet it was priceless."

Just as I was about to respond, I noticed Edward reappearing in the doorway, drawn back by the mention of his name. His expression softened, and despite himself, a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "You mean to tell me she was just... normal?"

I shrugged, trying to keep it casual. "As normal as you can be when you think you're stuck in a fictional world. She's confused, sure, but she's not causing trouble. I'd say she's intrigued more than anything."

Edward just rolled his eyes and then stomped out of the room. Once more proving my point.

"Book club?" Emmett raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by the idea. "What did she say about us? Anything interesting?"

Emmett burst out laughing, clapping his hands together. "Oh man, I would pay to see that! I bet it was priceless."

Edward leaned against the doorframe, still looking skeptical but less defensive. He was curious, no doubt running through every possibility, much like I did the night before. But he wasn't willing to give up control just yet.

"And you believe her?" Alice, asked thoughtfully, "That she's really from another world, where we're just characters in a book?"

I nodded. "I do. There was no deceit in her words, and everything she said felt... true. As unbelievable as it sounds, she's telling the truth."

Esme finally spoke, her voice gentle but tinged with concern. "And how is she, Jasper? She left rather abruptly at lunch."

I couldn't help but smile, remembering Anya's frustration. "That, Esme, you can lay squarely at the feet of Edward. She is most definitely not a fan of him."

Edward raised an eyebrow, his expression caught between curiosity and defensiveness. "What did I do?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "It's not so much what you did—it's more about how you are. She thinks you're too intense, too... well, broody."

Emmett let out a bark of laughter. "Broody? I could've told you that!"

Edward scowled slightly, but there was a flicker of something more thoughtful in his eyes. "She just... doesn't like me?"

"It's not that simple," I said, amusement still lingering in my voice. "She understands you're trying to figure her out, but she's not exactly thrilled about being under the microscope. It rubs her the wrong way."

I paused, remembering something Anya had said with that characteristic sharpness of hers. "She also made a few comments about 'our creator,' and how they went on ad nauseam about your broody tendencies. She said it might woo teen girls, but adult women – not so much."

Emmett couldn't hold back his laughter at that, while Edward's expression shifted to one of mild offense.

"So, not a fan of my brooding, huh?" Edward muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

I grinned, unable to resist. "For the last time, Edward—broody equals Heathcliff. And she's definitely not a fan."

His eyes narrowed, but there was a glimmer of amusement there. "Not in the slightest," I added, still grinning. "But look at the bright side, at least now you know what doesn't work."

Edward rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was mulling it over. He might not like the comparison, but there was no denying the truth in it.

Emmett leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, did Anya mention me at all?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Honestly, Em, if you really want to know, just ask her yourself."

Emmett grinned, clearly unfazed. "Maybe I will."

I shook my head, but there was a hint of amusement in my voice. "She respects you, you know. At lunch, I could feel it—she's got a lot of respect for you. But if you're fishing for compliments, you'll have to get those straight from her."

Emmett's grin widened. "Respects me, huh? Guess I'm doing something right."

I smirked, unable to resist. "No, our creator did something right. We're fictional characters, remember?"

"Right, right. Fictional characters with fan clubs." Emmett chuckled before sitting on the couch with Rosalie.

That got a laugh out of me, remembering Anya's deadpan comment about fangirls and their 'My boyfriend sparkles' T-shirts. "Yeah, and apparently, those fan clubs are a thing. Anya said the fangirls even have T-shirts to prove it."

Emmett burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Man, this just keeps getting better. Fan clubs, T-shirts... What's next, action figures?"

I grinned, shaking my head in disbelief. "Wouldn't surprise me. In her world, we're the stuff of legends."

Emmett leaned back, still chuckling. "Well, if we've got fan clubs, I'm definitely the president of mine."

The conversation started to drift into familiar teasing, but I was already half-checked out. I needed some time to myself to process everything. Without a word, I turned and headed upstairs, retreating to the solitude of my room.

Once inside, I grabbed my guitar. I strummed a few chords, letting the music fill the quiet space and before long I was lightly singing "Ah, we're drinkin and we're dancing.." remembering how the two of us did just that hours earlier.