Fic - I Wept Not [18/24]
Jan. 30th, 2012 02:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arcadianmaggieSummary: Jasper is a war weary soldier burdened by the weight of eternity. Edward is an uncomplicated high school student content to hide his sexuality. Together can Jasper find something to live for and Edward discover some things are worth dying for? AU, slash.
Chapter 17 | Masterpost
"Miracle's truck comes down the little avenue,
Scott Joplin ragtime strewn behind it like pearls,
and, yes, you can feel happy
with one piece of your heart."
- Adrienne Rich, "Miracle Ice Cream," l. 1-4
Chapter 18 – One Piece of Your Heart
EPOV
I paused in the doorway before heading out, wondering for about the hundredth time whether I was making a mistake.
"It's only for coffee," David had said with a small smile, and after hesitating for a minute, I had agreed.
I had met him during autumn quarter, in our FIG classes, the Freshman Interest Groups designed to match up students with similar interests. Those same 20 or so people would be registered in all their classes together for their first quarter. In addition to a composition course and another academic class, FIG students also took a general studies course that introduced us to all the resources the University had to offer. The groups were intended to help make the transition to such a large university more manageable. I suppose it had worked; I had gotten to know all twenty-two of the other students in my group pretty well.
This wasn't where I had expected to be, taking intro core classes at the University of Washington, but so much had changed for me over the last year. As we had arranged, I walked at graduation with my high school class, but I had been unable to finish my English requirement and had to complete it over the summer. For the first time I could remember, we did not travel somewhere on an extended vacation, but stayed home in Forks.
I had planned to attend Dartmouth in the fall with Jasper, but after what I'd gone through, I couldn't imagine moving so far away from my family. Instead, I decided to stay in Washington. I lived on campus, had a roommate, took regular non-honors courses and tried not to think about the huge gaping hole in my heart.
My mother had encouraged me to sign up for one of the FIG sections. I wanted to blend into anonymity on the crowded campus, but she was worried about my increasing isolation and pushed me towards something that would ensure my getting to know people. The general studies section of the FIG was set up as pass/fail, but it required active participation in discussion, group work, and research. There was no getting around interacting with the other students. She hoped that would ease my social entry into the large campus community.
The longer Jasper was gone, the more I had slowly withdrawn from my friends. It happened so gradually that I don't think they even noticed, until we went weeks without even talking. Bella had a new boyfriend, Jake, a guy from La Push her family had known for ages, and she spent almost all her free time with him. Mike was working at the store over the summer and then took a backpacking trip through Europe with a few of the guys. It's something we probably would have done together, before. Alice and I still saw each other regularly. I wasn't quite sure what was going on between them, but she and Bella seemed to have had a falling out ever since Jake had come on the scene. Alice wouldn't talk about it, though, and insisted she and Bella were as close as ever, but I knew something had gone wrong. They never spent any time together any more. Somehow I thought that Alice and Bella would end up at the same college together, but Bella had decided to go to school back in Arizona.
Being around Alice caused some mixed feelings. On the one hand, she didn't expect me to talk or entertain her; she let me brood, or be depressed, or angry, or whatever else I was feeling. She understood me; she missed Jasper too. On the other hand, her simple presence reminded me of Jasper, and that made me miss him even more. Every time I looked into her eyes I felt… something I didn't want to feel.
She was attending school in Seattle too, and we met for coffee regularly and caught a few movies together. Even though being around her brought out conflicting emotions, I also craved the connection she gave me to Jasper. I couldn't let him go.
I didn't want to let him go.
I had finally given in to everyone's wishes and agreed to see Dr. Goodwin. The panic attack I had in school that day when Lauren called me a faggot wasn't the last one I experienced, although it had been months. I had only had one since I started college and I was able to get it under control fairly quickly with some breathing techniques he had taught me.
More importantly, he had helped me manage my expectations about my head injury. I stopped freaking out about not being able to do things as fast or as well as I used to, and I started to accept the regular headaches. That, in turn, helped me get my emotions a little more under control. I'd still get frustrated and angry, but I no longer felt that I was a complete raw mess, constantly on the verge of a break down. So far Dr. Goodwin had been right; things were gradually getting better. Headaches were fewer and farther apart, and didn't last as long when I did get them. I was handling my classes without too much difficulty. And I was making some new friends.
What he couldn't help me with, however, was getting over Jasper. First, because I didn't want to get over Jasper. I still loved him. I ached for him. I wanted Jasper to come back and tell me he had made a terrible mistake, that he still loved me, that he would never leave me. I wanted to wake up with my head in his lap, having fallen asleep as he read me poetry, and find it had all been a terrible dream. Second, because I refused to talk about Jasper with him. I would talk about the attack, about having the living shit kicked out of me because I was gay, about my panic attacks and the headaches, and the outbursts, and being outed in a fucking newspaper article, but if he brought Jasper into the conversation, I would clam up. I was not going there with him.
I had spent a lot of time trying to understand, coping with my heartbreak, the terrible white hot anger, the excruciating pain. God, had I been angry. I thought a lot about something my mom had said to me when Jasper had first left—that Jasper had to learn to love himself. I never really did find out what had happened to him before he came to Forks. I knew that he hated himself, but I naively thought our love was enough to overcome his self loathing. I hoped wherever he was, he had stopped being so hard on himself. I hoped he could work through the things in his head that made him say our relationship had been so wrong. I hoped all he needed was a little time away. I would wait for him.
I tried to get Alice to tell me more about Jasper's past.
"I don't think that's really my place to tell you," she said, looking uncertain.
"What does it matter anymore, Alice? You said he's not coming back. I'm just trying to understand. He was going to tell me, too. Earlier… that night. He said he'd tell me everything." Deep down, I didn't believe he wasn't coming back. He had to. What we had together was real and strong and could withstand this horrible separation. I still had hope. Even after those first few terrible months when I was so lost and so in pain, I still held on to that tiny pinpoint of light, buried deep in my gut. I thought if I could only understand…
Alice cocked her head curiously. "Everything? He said that?"
"Yes. He said that. So you wouldn't be telling me something he didn't want me to know. I'm sure of it."
"Still. It shouldn't be me telling you these things."
"Well who else then?" I snapped. "It's not like he's here to tell me himself."
Instead of getting upset with me, she just sighed. "Edward, I would if I felt I could…"
"No, no, I'm sorry," I cut her off. "I just wish…" I didn't finish.
She reached over to gently squeeze my hand. Her fingers were ice cold. "I know," she said. "Me too."
"Geez, your hands are freezing. You want some more tea? I think I'm going to get a refill," I said, gesturing to my coffee cup.
She jerked her hand away and brought it back to her lap. "Sure. That'd be nice. Thanks."
While I was in line waiting to get us more drinks I thought about what I could ask her so she wouldn't feel like she was betraying his confidence.
I walked back to the table and put her tea in front of her. She smiled and said thanks, wrapping her hands around the mug.
"So," I began, "I know you told me before that what happened brought up a lot of bad memories for Jasper, and I know he had a violent past."
She didn't respond, just looked at me expectantly.
"What does that mean, exactly?" I asked.
She looked as if she were decided what to say.
I continued, "He told me once that he thought he was a monster, and I wouldn't love him if I knew the things he had done. What kinds of things did he do, Alice?" I had wondered about this so many times in the past. What haunted him that he couldn't even stand to stay? "Did he… kill someone before? I mean, before Port Angeles? Before he moved here?"
She looked at me intently, with those familiar golden eyes. Finally, she nodded. My stomach did a little turn, finally having confirmation of my worst fears. "It wasn't just that. The killing. It was the circumstances of his life then. It was all violence. And hate. And very little love. His self hatred is deeply rooted. He really does think of himself as a monster. I think he always felt that he could never be good enough for you."
I looked away, swallowing the lump in my throat and pushing down the rising anger. It wasn't fair that we never had the chance. That I never had the opportunity to even know about his past and decide for myself how I felt about it. It had all been ripped away from me in a single evening.
I mulled over this new knowledge in my head for weeks after Alice and I had talked. It hadn't really been a surprise, but at the same time, it was a lot to think about. I still didn't know the details, but Jasper had killed at least two people. I was still processing my own feelings about the man Larry who had beaten me so badly, so I could only imagine what Jasper was going through. Dr. Goodwin said that my perspective may change many times over the course of my life. One day, I might forgive him, but at this time, I held too much anger, and I was glad he was dead. Maybe that wasn't healthy; I didn't care.
I dreamt about that night. Many times. Initially after the accident, I didn't dream at all. A result of the head injury, the neurologist had said. Once I did start remembering my dreams again, I was told that was a good sign; my brain was healing. Sometimes I'd see Jasper, so clearly, a fiery protectiveness in his eyes, lunging for my attacker… saving me. My heart would be bursting with an overpowering love. When I'd wake up, I'd be so happy… until I remembered he was gone; then my happiness would turn to bitter tears. Other times he'd appear as a mountain lion, springing onto Larry and ripping out his throat with his teeth, savagely tearing him to pieces. I'd know it was him, though. The lion would stare at me with Jasper's beautiful golden eyes and my heart would swell with love. Still in others he wouldn't appear at all, and I'd call for him as the beating continued until I'd start to lose consciousness, knowing I was dying and there was no one to save me. I'd startle awake, sweating and frightened, my heart beating fast in my chest. While I was still living at home, I'd sometimes knock on my parents' bedroom door. My mom would scoot over so I could slip into their bed and I would curl up between her and my dad. She'd pet my hair and whisper calming words to me until I'd fall back asleep. When I had nightmares in the dorm, my roommate would groggily ask, "Hey man, you okay?" and I'd give him a, "yeah, sorry for waking you" back, even though I wasn't okay. Not at all.
I wondered what Jasper dreamed about. I wondered if he had nightmares about that night, or about whatever had happened in his past. I wondered if he woke up scared and alone and wished I was with him, the way I wished he were with me.
When it came down to it, I decided that it didn't matter what Jasper had done. Whatever happened in the past, whatever he had done, it didn't matter. I loved him. I knew him. Even in my dreams, when he wasn't even human, but a mountain lion, I recognized him. I could see straight into his soul through his expressive golden eyes. He was good and kind, thoughtful and passionate, and so goddamn beautiful in every way.
I missed him so fucking much.
-o-
I first noticed David in my Poly Sci class. When I originally thought about attending college, before I had my head bashed in by a fucking bigot, I assumed I'd go into business, like my dad. While I was going through the various FIGs offered, however, the thought of sitting through an Economics class was less than appealing. Instead, I found one that focused on social issues and American politics. I had this vague idea brewing in the back of my mind about possibly going to law school one day—maybe into politics too, some time far in the future. Before, I had never been much for causes. I was content to lie low and not draw attention to myself. Things were different now. It's not like I planned to become some sort of outspoken activist or anything, but I wanted the world to be different. I wanted to live in a world where someone like me wasn't afraid to hold hands while walking down the street with his boyfriend.
It's amazing how your perspective changes after almost being killed for kissing a boy.
When I looked through the University's recommendations for a pre-law program, the literature stated it didn't really matter what we chose to major in, although they suggested something heavy on the reading and writing. That gave me the easy excuse I needed to look at choices other than Economics.
David was very cute, with short light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He had amazingly thick eyelashes and was fit and tan, and very easy going. We hit it off immediately. When I caught him checking me out, and he just gave me a small shrug and a grin, I was flattered and had one of my first moments of understanding how things could be different here. I assumed he was gay from that interaction.
A few weeks later after the end of our afternoon class, I learned he assumed I was gay as well.
"Hey, Edward… wait up," he called to me.
"What's up?"
"I wanted to know if you wanted to come to the Q Center with me tomorrow and meet some of the guys. They're playing a really great movie too."
"The Q Center?" I asked. That sounded vaguely familiar.
"Yeah, you know… where all the gays hang out." He flashed me a wide grin.
"Oh." Of course. I remembered reading about it when I was looking at the different sorts of student groups the university had. I was surprised at the invitation, though. How did he even know I was gay? "Wait, how did you know I was gay?" I asked.
"I didn't. But I do now," he answered with a laugh. "So… you wanna go? I hang out there a lot. The guys are great. Well, most of them."
"What's the movie?"
"It's called Shelter. It's really good. You seen it before?"
"No. I've never even heard of it."
"You'll love it. It starts at seven. I can meet you at your dorm and walk over with you, or you could just meet us there if you want to go."
I thought about it for a few minutes. I hadn't done much socializing at all since I started school, except for occasional coffee with Alice. This was what I had wanted, after all, wasn't it? To be able to be out at college and not have to hide who I was. To make friends with other guys like me. Yes, but you wanted to do those things with Jasper, a voice whispered in my head. I pushed back the surge of sorrow and pain that shot through my gut whenever I thought of Jasper, but something must have shown on my face.
"Hey, it's not a big deal if you don't want to go. There's stuff going on all the time over there. Maybe another night, okay?"
"No," I corrected hurriedly. "It sounds like fun." Jasper wasn't here, after all. Was I going to sit in my dorm room by myself all year? "I'll meet you over there. Thanks."
"Great," he said, enthusiastically. "See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
-o-
It was about my fourth or fifth time at the Q Center that someone finally recognized my name.
"Wait, your last name's Masen? Oh shit. You're the guy from that whole Port Angeles thing last year, aren't you?" Geoff, one of the upperclassmen I had been hanging out with asked. He was a big buff guy, a complete sports nut, with an amicable personality. He reminded me a lot of Emmett.
I stiffened.
David looked at me curiously. "What Port Angeles thing?" David was from southern California, so it made sense he wouldn't have heard about it. I knew that wouldn't be the case with anyone from this area. It had been big news.
"Oh, dude, it was in all the papers," Goeff continued. "Everyone here was following the story…"
He broke off after a sharp look from David who had noticed I was having trouble breathing.
"Are you all right, Edward?" he asked, grabbing my arm and walking me over to a sofa to sit down.
I took a few deep calming breaths as I had been taught and I felt my heart rate returning to normal. "I'm fine."
Goeff had joined us at the couch. "Shit, I'm sorry Edward. I shouldn't have brought it up like that. I'm such a fucking moron!" His face was full of concern.
"No, it's okay." Now that one person had connected the dots, it wouldn't be long before I was once again labeled as that guy who got gay bashed in Port Angeles. "It's not like I didn't expect it to come up at some point."
"I'm still sorry. You probably don't like talking about it. Fuck, man. I'm sorry."
"No, really. It's okay." I tried to smile. David was probably dying to ask about it, but he didn't say anything.
I stood up. My legs were a little shaky. "I think I'm just going to head back to the dorm. I'll catch you guys later."
David looked at me uncertainly. "Do you want me to walk back with you?" he asked.
"No, I'm fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"
"If you're sure," he said. I nodded, heading toward the door. I turned around to wave goodbye as I exited. They were both still staring after me.
The next day I resolved to tell David the whole story. He was probably my best friend here and deserved to know, and I'm sure Geoff had filled him in after I left anyway. Plus, I realized that I actually did want to talk about it with someone. Someone who didn't know me from before, or wasn't my shrink, or wasn't Jasper's sister.
"Do you want to grab some lunch with me between classes?" I asked him. I noticed he had been a little nervous around me today, like he didn't know what to say to me.
He gave me a big relieved grin. "Yeah, that sounds great."
Over lunch I told him the whole story. He asked lots of questions afterwards—did I still have any medical problems, what happened to the guys who beat me up, where was Jasper now.
"So he just left? While you were still in the hospital?" his voice was incredulous.
"Yeah," I responded softly.
"Wow. That's harsh."
I didn't say anything. What could I say, after all? If I thought about it too much, I'd be angry and hurt and a fucking mess all over again. And it's not like it would change anything.
David and I became much closer after that conversation. He told me all about growing up in southern California and spending his days surfing at the beach. He'd been openly gay for as long as he could remember.
"It's not like I ever really came out," he told me. "It was sort of, I always knew I was gay, and my parents always knew I was gay, and my friends knew I was gay, and it was just the way it was. No one had a problem with it where I grew up. I mean, sure, I'd get the occasional comment. There are assholes everywhere, but it wasn't like anything you had to deal with.
"That's the way it should be for everyone, you know?" he continued. "I've heard so many stories. We both know you're not the only one who ended up in the hospital, or worse, just for being who you are. Kids should never have to feel like they've got to hide. I figure the more people who are open about the sexuality, the more normal it will seem to everyone else."
I couldn't disagree. He looked up from his coffee and gave me a gentle smile. "I don't want to sound like a condescending dick by saying this, but I'm proud of you for hanging out at the Q Center and getting involved with stuff there after everything you've been through."
I could feel my face flush a little bit with embarrassment. "Yeah, well, I guess when I thought about 'what's the worst that could happen?' I figured I already found that answer out, so things could only look up."
"No shit."
We both laughed and then we moved on to about talking about classes and other less serious topics.
As winter break approached, I became anxious about going home. Alice was going to give me a ride back to Forks and I had restrained myself the last few times we had gotten together from asking about Jasper. I thought, now that it had been almost a year, maybe he would come home for Christmas. I'm sure Esme and Carlisle wanted the whole family together. If he did, I wondered if he'd want to see me. Did he still think of me? Did he still love me?
Finally, I got up enough nerve to ask.
Alice looked at me with those big sad eyes and I felt my heart breaking all over again.
"No, he's not coming home for Christmas. I'm not sure he's ever coming back."
"Not ever?" I asked with a break in my voice. "I thought that once he had some time away…" I knew I sounded pitiful, but I was desperate for a different answer. He had to come home eventually, didn't he?
"Edward, I'm sorry," Alice said. "I don't see it happening."
I looked in her eyes and knew she was telling the truth. That tiny pinpoint of light I had been carrying around for a year flickered and went out.
I leaned over with my elbows on my knees and put my face in my hands, so she wouldn't see me cry. I heard her chair scoot around and then her hand was rubbing my back in sympathy. It didn't help.
David noticed how quiet I was the next few times we saw each other.
"Hey man, what's going on? Do you need to talk?" he asked while we were having coffee between classes.
So I told him. I told him that all this time I'd been waiting, absolutely certain that Jasper was going to come home one day, no matter what everyone else said. I told him how I knew it was Jasper's shit that was keeping him away, but I couldn't help but feel if I had only done something differently, if I only had another chance to talk to him… I trailed off, realizing how stupid I probably sounded.
David didn't look at me like he thought I was stupid, though; he looked as if his eyes might fill with tears any moment. He cleared his throat and leaned toward me.
"Look, I know how much you love the guy. It's obvious. I can tell. I've always been able to see it. But I've gotta say it, just this once. The guy's a fucking idiot. You're wonderful. You're sweet and you're funny, and smart and good-looking, and he's a fool to have left you." I was taken aback at the intensity of his words. His face flushed as he was speaking, but he didn't look away.
I just stared at him in shock. He finally broke our gaze, and fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment before saying, "I'm going to go get a refill. You want some?" I nodded and he grabbed our mugs, walking to the counter.
When he came back to the table he started talking about our final for our Poly Sci class and didn't refer to our previous topic of conversation again.
Over break it was great to catch up with Bella and Mike, and to be home with Mom and Dad. I almost couldn't wait to get back to school though. Everything in Forks reminded me of Jasper. Everything. Now that the realization that he actually wasn't ever coming back was sinking in, I felt like I was going through the grieving process all over again. David and I emailed back and forth a few times, but it wasn't anything I could really discuss with him. And I certainly didn't want to tell my mom that I'd been holding on to hope this whole time. She'd think I hadn't been taking my therapy seriously at all.
I had realized, after that afternoon at school, that David liked me. As in, liked me liked me. I felt a little stupid not having figured it out until then, but I was still so wrapped up in thoughts of Jasper I didn't even notice. I mean, he had been checking me out practically the very first day of school. He spent a ton of his free time with me. He never went out with other guys, even though I knew he had had several boyfriends before. I probably should have been able to figure it out. I wasn't really sure what I thought about the situation. I mean, I had never even thought of anyone like that since I had been to college; I was still too hung up on Jasper.
That's why, when I ran into him once I was back on campus and he invited me for coffee, I got flustered and didn't know how to respond.
"It's only for coffee," he said, smiling gently. "C'mon. You can tell me how your break was."
I didn't have a good reason to refuse. It's not like we hadn't gotten coffee together a million times before. "Okay, but I'm running late for class," I told him. "It'll have to be later."
I was in the dorm, pacing, and was already running almost twenty minutes late. I had started to leave half dozen times, then stopped, wondering if I should text him to cancel. Did he think this was a date? Did he want this to be a date? Did I want this to be a date? God, I knew I was over-thinking things. Finally, I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door.
When I got to the coffee shop, I saw David sitting in the corner by himself, slowly tearing a napkin into tiny pieces.
He looked up as I approached and the crease on his forehead disappeared as his face morphed into a relieved smile.
"Hey, I almost thought you weren't coming." He tried to sound like he was joking, but I could hear the seriousness behind the words.
"I'm sorry I was late," I replied. I pulled off my jacket and put it over the back of the chair. "I'll be right back," I said as I went to the counter to order my coffee.
When I got back to the table, we kind of looked at each other not knowing what to say. An awkward silence filled the space.
We both started speaking at the same time, and that broke the tension, causing us to laugh.
"You first," I said.
"No, you."
"Okay. I was just asking how your break was."
"Oh. It was nice. Yours?"
"It was fine."
We were both silent again.
"Fuck," he finally said under his breath. "I knew I ruined things."
I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't say anything.
He took a deep breath. "Okay, here's the thing. Obviously, you've figured out I like you." He rolled his eyes a little at himself and I smiled. "I wasn't ever going to say anything, because I knew you were still in love with that guy. And you've been through some serious shit and didn't need someone pressuring you or anything. But, you know, when you were going on about him leaving and that you might have had something to do with it, I just got pissed. Because that is all on him and I think you know that."
I nodded.
"So, yeah, I let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. I have a crush on you. I want to date you. I want to be your boyfriend and buy you pretty things." He was giving me a look that was making me laugh.
"Most of all, I want to still be your friend. You're my best friend here and I'd hate to lose that because I fucked up one day. I know you're probably not ready to see anyone, and really, I'm cool with how things were. Really. Truly. So can't we maybe go back to just hanging out, the way we did before I revealed my super secret big gay crush?"
He was looking at me with a smile and a hopeful expression in his gorgeous brown eyes.
"I promise to never ever mention that I've imagined what you look like naked."
I almost choked on my coffee and he shot me a cheeky grin. Now I was rolling my eyes.
He grew serious again. "I never meant to make you uncomfortable. Can we please still hang out?"
I gave a little nod and looked down at my coffee thinking for a minute. I didn't want to lose his friendship either, but I thought I needed to be crystal clear about where my head was right now.
"I've never really thought of you like that before." I winced realizing how that sounded.
"I mean," I paused. I wasn't really sure what I meant. "I'm not ready to date anyone," I finally said.
"I know that, Edward," he said quietly. "I do."
"Okay."
Things were a little awkward between us the first few times we got together after that, but eventually we fell right back into our easy friendship. I almost forgot he was harboring stronger feelings for me. Winter quarter ended and at my parents' urging, I agreed to go someplace warm for spring break instead of coming home to Forks. They wanted my college experience to be as authentic as possible. A lot of the guys were going to Puerto Vallarta, but I wasn't sure I was up for a big party scene. Besides, I was already going to Mexico with my parents for the summer. David invited me home for the week, and it turned out to be an ideal compromise.
We went to the beach every day where he tried, rather unsuccessfully, to teach me how to surf. We walked the pier at night, going out to eat at various restaurants. We went out dancing at the clubs, and on our last night there, when he pulled me close and kissed me, I kissed him back.
Once we were back in Seattle, things were different between us. We still did the same things and hung out with the same people, but sometimes he'd hold my hand, or I'd hold his. Instead of greeting each other with a hug or a kiss on the cheek, it'd be with a peck on the lips. And occasionally, we'd sink into the sofa next to each other and kiss long and languorously, our hands wandering down the other's chest, or slipping up to the back of the neck, soft hair through our fingers.
He never pushed for more and neither did I. I already felt, deep in my heart, that I was betraying Jasper, even though my head told me how ridiculous that was.
I started to notice things about him, how nice his smile was and how good he always smelled. As summer approached, the days grew warmer and on the occasional sunny day, we'd throw the Frisbee or play touch football, which inevitably ended with shirts removed and tackles to the grass. I laughed as he landed hard on top of me then stole a quick kiss before getting up and offering me a hand to pull me to my feet. I'd remember the weight of his body against mine and I'd feel the stirrings of desire in my belly. He caught me staring at him a few times and my face flushed when he wagged his eyebrows and winked at me.
The next time we were making out, he pushed me back and crawled over me, pressing his body down on mine. I could feel his arousal and my pulse quickened, an answering heat rushing through me. Our kisses became deeper and we moved against each other, desire flaring, hardness to hardness. Eventually, he stilled and rested his forehead on my shoulder, whispering that he had better go. After he left I stroked myself to orgasm, trying to image only David's face. As I came all over my stomach, confusing images danced before my mind's eye—brown eyes brightening to gold, tan skin changing to pale. When I fell asleep, I dreamt of a meadow and a velvet voice whispering poetry into my ear.
He took me to dinner and flirted with me all evening, brushing his leg against mine, teasing me with his eyes and his hands and his mouth. When we got back to my dorm room, it was only seconds before we were tearing each other's shirts off and crushing our lips together.
"Your roommate?" he panted, as he urged me down onto the bed with him.
"At his girlfriend's again," I answered, rolling over and pulling him on top of me.
Our hips ground against each other as our tongues slid together, tasting and exploring. We were all heat and want, whispered words of desire, soft moans and quickened heartbeats. I felt his movements becoming erratic as his hands gripped my shoulders and he buried his face in my neck. He cried out as he tensed above me and I gasped, arching up underneath him, finding my own release. He turned his head to mine and we kissed, long and deep.
After a few minutes he pulled back and leaned up on his elbows to look at me. His lips quirked up and then he snickered, there was no other word for it, then we were both laughing at ourselves for coming in our pants. He was still smiling as he looked down on me, one hand combing through my hair then resting against my cheek as his thumb ran lightly across my lips. He leaned over kissing me softly on my forehead, my cheeks, my jaw, running his nose against my face, whispering words of thanks, telling me how beautiful I was and how good I felt. I experienced a disconcerting moment of déjà vu, but pushed it aside, smiling back at him.
I asked him if he wanted to stay and his face lit up in a radiant smile. I lent him some pajama pants and we took turns cleaning up in the bathroom. I told him he could use my toothbrush and he told me I was disgusting, but then used it anyway. He fell asleep curled up around me, his arm encircling my waist, his forehead against my shoulder. I stayed awake far into the night, unable to sleep, my mind racing with thoughts I didn't want to be having.
In the morning I watched his smile fade as he took in my exhausted appearance. He was quiet over coffee and I made pointless conversation, trying to assure him that everything was all right.
We didn't see each other after that for several more days since finals were coming up and we both had papers to complete and studying to do. When we did, we didn't mention the other night and I'd catch him staring at me, an expression on his face I couldn't quite figure out.
After we turned in our final papers and took our last exam, we went to a party to celebrate the end of the school year. We walked back to my room at the end of the night, both a little drunk. We were standing in the middle of the room, laughing, making out with sloppy kisses. He tugged at my shirt, lifting it over my head, then covered my newly exposed skin with open mouth kisses, sucking on my nipples, walking around behind me and kissing the back of my neck. He pressed his erection against my backside and his arms circled around my stomach, rubbing soft circles on my skin. "God, you're so fucking sexy," he whispered in my ear as his fingers played with my nipples. I craned my neck to kiss him, our tongues darting into each other's mouths. His hand slid down to my waistband and started to undo the button on my jeans. I groaned as he reached down my pants to cup my erection beneath his hand.
"Is this okay?" he asked in a breathless voice as he stroked my cock through my underwear. I groaned in response, pushing my dick harder against his hand. As he touched me, mouth on my skin, pulling my body back against him, stroking me with his hand, I had another flash of a memory, a voice whispering in my ear, "Let me make you feel good," and "I promise I won't run this time." I stiffened, a crushing wave of longing rushing through me.
David's movements stilled and I stood there, my heart pounding with a confusing mixture of desire and anxiety. I finally pulled away and fastened my pants back up, not able to look at him. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I don't think I can do this."
David came over and put his hands on my shoulders. "Hey, look at me," he said softly. I raised my eyes to his face and saw him smiling softly at me, even as his expression was overlaid with sadness. "It's okay, Edward. Really. We'll talk tomorrow, all right?" I nodded and he leaned in to kiss me on the check before saying, "Good night. I'll call you in the morning."
After he left, I sat on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands. David was great. He was everything I could ever want in a boyfriend. He was cute and nice and funny. And hot. My body reacted to his in very exciting ways. Plus he was a great friend. So why was I pulling back?
I already knew the answer, even if I didn't want to admit it: Jasper.
It wasn't that I still had hope that Jasper was coming back. I knew he was gone. But loving Jasper had changed me. Even though he said our relationship should never have happened, that it was wrong, I knew it had been the most right thing I would probably ever experience in my entire life.
With Jasper I had experienced love, deep and true, powerful and passionate. Nothing I had felt since then could possible compare to the richness and depth of my feelings for him. Nothing. I had been young; I had been naïve, but I had loved him with my whole heart, and I knew he had loved me that way too. It had been real. I knew it with the certainty of absolute truth.
I cared about David. I did. I even loved him. But not in the way that I should. Maybe I was condemning myself to a lifetime of loneliness, but I was slowly realizing that I was doing us both a disservice by trying to take our relationship further. David deserved someone who would love him the way I loved Jasper—fully, wholly, passionately. And I didn't want to settle for anything less than I knew was possible. Not anymore. Life was too short. I had felt it; I had lived it. I wanted it again, a love so stunning and wild that it could bring me to life, thrilling every inch of me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
I arranged to meet David for coffee in the morning. We got our drinks to go and took a walk. When we spotted a bench off by itself, we made our way over and took a seat. I sucked in a deep breath preparing to speak when David cut me off.
"I know you're not ready. I'll wait for you. However long it takes. I'll wait until you're ready." His face was sincere and I saw the shadow of desperation on it. He knew.
"David," I began.
"Wait. Not yet," he begged. Then he leaned over, pulling my face toward him with his hand against the back of my neck. He kissed me, deep and slow, lips moving, tongue sliding. I tasted salt after a moment and felt my own eyes tearing up.
Finally he pulled back and I reached over to wipe the dampness off his face.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "You know I care about you. But I'm still in love with him. It's not fair to you."
"I don't need fair," he protested, and I smiled gently.
"Yes. You do."
He pulled me to him and buried his face in my neck as his body shook with sobs. My own tears slid down my face and I kissed the top of his head, holding him tight.
We held hands as we walked back to campus. I kissed him again when we said goodbye, and we promised to email each other over the summer. When he left I flung myself face down on my bed and buried my face in my pillow, hoping I hadn't made the biggest mistake of my life.
-o-
I lay on my stomach listening to the sound of the ocean, feeling the heat beating down on my back. We had been in Mexico for a few weeks now, staying at a resort run by a couple my mom had been friends with in college. They had tried to get us to visit for years, but we had always had other plans. This summer my mom thought we should take things easy, hang with friends and laze on the beach. The resort was located about a half hour north of Troncones and we had plenty of opportunities to take short sight seeing trips to different parts of Mexico if we wanted.
Their season usually ran from November to May, so we had the place to ourselves. The restaurant and gift shop were closed, but they still had one of the couples who worked for them come in a few times a week to prepare meals and clean. We were staying in one of their air conditioned suites. My mom and dad had the large bedroom and I was sleeping on the pullout in the living room. My Godfather Daniel and his partner Alan were planning to join us for a week later in the summer. My mom was excited to finally meet their daughter Anna, who they had successfully adopted earlier in the year. They wished they could stay longer, but they had used up most of their leave after bringing Anna home.
The days seem to blend into each other in a haze of sun and sand. In the morning we'd get up and have coffee and pastries on the wide covered porch of the main building. We'd head down to the beach for a few hours, then come back for lunch and a siesta in the air conditioned suite. I usually went back to the beach in late afternoon. The others sometimes joined me, but more often I was alone. I liked to walk along the edge of the water, letting the waves pull the sand from underneath my feet. In the early evening we'd have cold drinks, and when the sun started going down, we'd eat dinner together, then sit around the table for hours afterwards, talking and laughing and drinking cocktails. My twentieth birthday had come and gone and we spent the day the same as all the others, with the exception of some cake and champagne after dinner. As I blew out the candles, I thought of Jasper and David and wished that they both might find happiness. My mom had reached over to give me a big hug, ruffling my hair and wondering aloud how her little baby had gotten so big.
I had plenty of time to think about both Jasper and David during the hours I spent on the beach, letting the sun soak into my skin. After some time away, I knew I had done the right thing breaking up with David. I would always care for him, but I would never love him the way that I had loved Jasper. I still couldn't think about Jasper without that painful ache, but I understood him better now. I didn't agree with the decisions he had made, and I still held onto considerable anger at him making the unilateral choice to leave as he did, but I really did think I finally understood.
I wondered what next year would be like. David had emailed and said that he was looking into transferring to school in California. I had though more about what I wanted to do with my future and law school was looking more and more promising. It had been a tough year and a half, but I was hopeful about the future.
"Where's Dad?" I asked the next morning as we all sat around having coffee.
"He doesn't feel well," my Mom said. "I think he's coming down with something."
"Oh no," Ava said. "Do you think he'll be up to coming with us tomorrow?"
They were planning a road trip to do some buying for the gift shop. Ava and her husband John stocked it with authentic Mexican handcrafted items—pottery and jewelry, textiles and clothing, and decorative household items. They usually spent part of the summer going to different cities and villages, shopping for items to stock the shop with. My mom and dad had talked about going with them for a few days and doing some sightseeing.
"I'm not sure. We'll see how he feels tomorrow. He's usually a big baby when he's sick, so I'm guessing we'll be staying here." She smiled fondly.
The next morning Dad was still feeling under the weather and Mom said she felt like she was coming down with it too. She called me in to their bedroom and asked me to let Ava and John know that they weren't feeling well and for them to go on without them.
"Can you bring us back something to drink, too, honey?"
"Sure Mom."
I let Ava know they were both staying in bed. She took some time to make sure I knew how to work everything in the kitchen, which frozen meals were easy to prepare, where the closest doctor was and where she kept the keys to the Jeep if we needed someone to take a look at them.
"I hate to leave while they're sick," she said, looking indecisive.
"I'll be here," I told her. "I can take care of them."
"You're such a good boy," she said, ruffling my hair with a grin and squeezing my face. I laughed.
"Okay, well Marta will be over Thursday if you need anything. We'll check in when we can, although I don't know how easy it will be. We're usually on the road quite a bit on these trips."
"We'll be fine. You guys be safe."
"Okay, honey. We'll see you in a week or two."
I took Mom and Dad some bottled water and a few cans of ginger ale I found in the kitchen then went down to the beach for a few hours. When I got back they were looking worse and had fevers running. I rummaged through the main building for their first aid and found some Tylenol to help get their temperatures down. Mom said she didn't think they could eat anything right now.
The next morning I woke up with a scratchy throat and by mid afternoon, I thought my head would explode. I brought some more drinks down to the suite and made sure they both took some more Tylenol. I was thinking if their fevers weren't down by night, I was going to have to find them a doctor. They looked really sick.
I was feeling worse by the minute myself. I decided I was going to lie down for a hour and check on them after I took a nap. I really felt like shit and my head was killing me. I knew I'd feel better if I could just rest for a little bit. I ripped my sweaty t-shirt off and collapsed on the pull-out before succumbing to exhaustion.
Chapter 19 | Masterpost | Poetry
Chapter 17 | Masterpost
Scott Joplin ragtime strewn behind it like pearls,
and, yes, you can feel happy
with one piece of your heart."
- Adrienne Rich, "Miracle Ice Cream," l. 1-4
Chapter 18 – One Piece of Your Heart
EPOV
I paused in the doorway before heading out, wondering for about the hundredth time whether I was making a mistake.
"It's only for coffee," David had said with a small smile, and after hesitating for a minute, I had agreed.
I had met him during autumn quarter, in our FIG classes, the Freshman Interest Groups designed to match up students with similar interests. Those same 20 or so people would be registered in all their classes together for their first quarter. In addition to a composition course and another academic class, FIG students also took a general studies course that introduced us to all the resources the University had to offer. The groups were intended to help make the transition to such a large university more manageable. I suppose it had worked; I had gotten to know all twenty-two of the other students in my group pretty well.
This wasn't where I had expected to be, taking intro core classes at the University of Washington, but so much had changed for me over the last year. As we had arranged, I walked at graduation with my high school class, but I had been unable to finish my English requirement and had to complete it over the summer. For the first time I could remember, we did not travel somewhere on an extended vacation, but stayed home in Forks.
I had planned to attend Dartmouth in the fall with Jasper, but after what I'd gone through, I couldn't imagine moving so far away from my family. Instead, I decided to stay in Washington. I lived on campus, had a roommate, took regular non-honors courses and tried not to think about the huge gaping hole in my heart.
My mother had encouraged me to sign up for one of the FIG sections. I wanted to blend into anonymity on the crowded campus, but she was worried about my increasing isolation and pushed me towards something that would ensure my getting to know people. The general studies section of the FIG was set up as pass/fail, but it required active participation in discussion, group work, and research. There was no getting around interacting with the other students. She hoped that would ease my social entry into the large campus community.
The longer Jasper was gone, the more I had slowly withdrawn from my friends. It happened so gradually that I don't think they even noticed, until we went weeks without even talking. Bella had a new boyfriend, Jake, a guy from La Push her family had known for ages, and she spent almost all her free time with him. Mike was working at the store over the summer and then took a backpacking trip through Europe with a few of the guys. It's something we probably would have done together, before. Alice and I still saw each other regularly. I wasn't quite sure what was going on between them, but she and Bella seemed to have had a falling out ever since Jake had come on the scene. Alice wouldn't talk about it, though, and insisted she and Bella were as close as ever, but I knew something had gone wrong. They never spent any time together any more. Somehow I thought that Alice and Bella would end up at the same college together, but Bella had decided to go to school back in Arizona.
Being around Alice caused some mixed feelings. On the one hand, she didn't expect me to talk or entertain her; she let me brood, or be depressed, or angry, or whatever else I was feeling. She understood me; she missed Jasper too. On the other hand, her simple presence reminded me of Jasper, and that made me miss him even more. Every time I looked into her eyes I felt… something I didn't want to feel.
She was attending school in Seattle too, and we met for coffee regularly and caught a few movies together. Even though being around her brought out conflicting emotions, I also craved the connection she gave me to Jasper. I couldn't let him go.
I didn't want to let him go.
I had finally given in to everyone's wishes and agreed to see Dr. Goodwin. The panic attack I had in school that day when Lauren called me a faggot wasn't the last one I experienced, although it had been months. I had only had one since I started college and I was able to get it under control fairly quickly with some breathing techniques he had taught me.
More importantly, he had helped me manage my expectations about my head injury. I stopped freaking out about not being able to do things as fast or as well as I used to, and I started to accept the regular headaches. That, in turn, helped me get my emotions a little more under control. I'd still get frustrated and angry, but I no longer felt that I was a complete raw mess, constantly on the verge of a break down. So far Dr. Goodwin had been right; things were gradually getting better. Headaches were fewer and farther apart, and didn't last as long when I did get them. I was handling my classes without too much difficulty. And I was making some new friends.
What he couldn't help me with, however, was getting over Jasper. First, because I didn't want to get over Jasper. I still loved him. I ached for him. I wanted Jasper to come back and tell me he had made a terrible mistake, that he still loved me, that he would never leave me. I wanted to wake up with my head in his lap, having fallen asleep as he read me poetry, and find it had all been a terrible dream. Second, because I refused to talk about Jasper with him. I would talk about the attack, about having the living shit kicked out of me because I was gay, about my panic attacks and the headaches, and the outbursts, and being outed in a fucking newspaper article, but if he brought Jasper into the conversation, I would clam up. I was not going there with him.
I had spent a lot of time trying to understand, coping with my heartbreak, the terrible white hot anger, the excruciating pain. God, had I been angry. I thought a lot about something my mom had said to me when Jasper had first left—that Jasper had to learn to love himself. I never really did find out what had happened to him before he came to Forks. I knew that he hated himself, but I naively thought our love was enough to overcome his self loathing. I hoped wherever he was, he had stopped being so hard on himself. I hoped he could work through the things in his head that made him say our relationship had been so wrong. I hoped all he needed was a little time away. I would wait for him.
I tried to get Alice to tell me more about Jasper's past.
"I don't think that's really my place to tell you," she said, looking uncertain.
"What does it matter anymore, Alice? You said he's not coming back. I'm just trying to understand. He was going to tell me, too. Earlier… that night. He said he'd tell me everything." Deep down, I didn't believe he wasn't coming back. He had to. What we had together was real and strong and could withstand this horrible separation. I still had hope. Even after those first few terrible months when I was so lost and so in pain, I still held on to that tiny pinpoint of light, buried deep in my gut. I thought if I could only understand…
Alice cocked her head curiously. "Everything? He said that?"
"Yes. He said that. So you wouldn't be telling me something he didn't want me to know. I'm sure of it."
"Still. It shouldn't be me telling you these things."
"Well who else then?" I snapped. "It's not like he's here to tell me himself."
Instead of getting upset with me, she just sighed. "Edward, I would if I felt I could…"
"No, no, I'm sorry," I cut her off. "I just wish…" I didn't finish.
She reached over to gently squeeze my hand. Her fingers were ice cold. "I know," she said. "Me too."
"Geez, your hands are freezing. You want some more tea? I think I'm going to get a refill," I said, gesturing to my coffee cup.
She jerked her hand away and brought it back to her lap. "Sure. That'd be nice. Thanks."
While I was in line waiting to get us more drinks I thought about what I could ask her so she wouldn't feel like she was betraying his confidence.
I walked back to the table and put her tea in front of her. She smiled and said thanks, wrapping her hands around the mug.
"So," I began, "I know you told me before that what happened brought up a lot of bad memories for Jasper, and I know he had a violent past."
She didn't respond, just looked at me expectantly.
"What does that mean, exactly?" I asked.
She looked as if she were decided what to say.
I continued, "He told me once that he thought he was a monster, and I wouldn't love him if I knew the things he had done. What kinds of things did he do, Alice?" I had wondered about this so many times in the past. What haunted him that he couldn't even stand to stay? "Did he… kill someone before? I mean, before Port Angeles? Before he moved here?"
She looked at me intently, with those familiar golden eyes. Finally, she nodded. My stomach did a little turn, finally having confirmation of my worst fears. "It wasn't just that. The killing. It was the circumstances of his life then. It was all violence. And hate. And very little love. His self hatred is deeply rooted. He really does think of himself as a monster. I think he always felt that he could never be good enough for you."
I looked away, swallowing the lump in my throat and pushing down the rising anger. It wasn't fair that we never had the chance. That I never had the opportunity to even know about his past and decide for myself how I felt about it. It had all been ripped away from me in a single evening.
I mulled over this new knowledge in my head for weeks after Alice and I had talked. It hadn't really been a surprise, but at the same time, it was a lot to think about. I still didn't know the details, but Jasper had killed at least two people. I was still processing my own feelings about the man Larry who had beaten me so badly, so I could only imagine what Jasper was going through. Dr. Goodwin said that my perspective may change many times over the course of my life. One day, I might forgive him, but at this time, I held too much anger, and I was glad he was dead. Maybe that wasn't healthy; I didn't care.
I dreamt about that night. Many times. Initially after the accident, I didn't dream at all. A result of the head injury, the neurologist had said. Once I did start remembering my dreams again, I was told that was a good sign; my brain was healing. Sometimes I'd see Jasper, so clearly, a fiery protectiveness in his eyes, lunging for my attacker… saving me. My heart would be bursting with an overpowering love. When I'd wake up, I'd be so happy… until I remembered he was gone; then my happiness would turn to bitter tears. Other times he'd appear as a mountain lion, springing onto Larry and ripping out his throat with his teeth, savagely tearing him to pieces. I'd know it was him, though. The lion would stare at me with Jasper's beautiful golden eyes and my heart would swell with love. Still in others he wouldn't appear at all, and I'd call for him as the beating continued until I'd start to lose consciousness, knowing I was dying and there was no one to save me. I'd startle awake, sweating and frightened, my heart beating fast in my chest. While I was still living at home, I'd sometimes knock on my parents' bedroom door. My mom would scoot over so I could slip into their bed and I would curl up between her and my dad. She'd pet my hair and whisper calming words to me until I'd fall back asleep. When I had nightmares in the dorm, my roommate would groggily ask, "Hey man, you okay?" and I'd give him a, "yeah, sorry for waking you" back, even though I wasn't okay. Not at all.
I wondered what Jasper dreamed about. I wondered if he had nightmares about that night, or about whatever had happened in his past. I wondered if he woke up scared and alone and wished I was with him, the way I wished he were with me.
When it came down to it, I decided that it didn't matter what Jasper had done. Whatever happened in the past, whatever he had done, it didn't matter. I loved him. I knew him. Even in my dreams, when he wasn't even human, but a mountain lion, I recognized him. I could see straight into his soul through his expressive golden eyes. He was good and kind, thoughtful and passionate, and so goddamn beautiful in every way.
I missed him so fucking much.
I first noticed David in my Poly Sci class. When I originally thought about attending college, before I had my head bashed in by a fucking bigot, I assumed I'd go into business, like my dad. While I was going through the various FIGs offered, however, the thought of sitting through an Economics class was less than appealing. Instead, I found one that focused on social issues and American politics. I had this vague idea brewing in the back of my mind about possibly going to law school one day—maybe into politics too, some time far in the future. Before, I had never been much for causes. I was content to lie low and not draw attention to myself. Things were different now. It's not like I planned to become some sort of outspoken activist or anything, but I wanted the world to be different. I wanted to live in a world where someone like me wasn't afraid to hold hands while walking down the street with his boyfriend.
It's amazing how your perspective changes after almost being killed for kissing a boy.
When I looked through the University's recommendations for a pre-law program, the literature stated it didn't really matter what we chose to major in, although they suggested something heavy on the reading and writing. That gave me the easy excuse I needed to look at choices other than Economics.
David was very cute, with short light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He had amazingly thick eyelashes and was fit and tan, and very easy going. We hit it off immediately. When I caught him checking me out, and he just gave me a small shrug and a grin, I was flattered and had one of my first moments of understanding how things could be different here. I assumed he was gay from that interaction.
A few weeks later after the end of our afternoon class, I learned he assumed I was gay as well.
"Hey, Edward… wait up," he called to me.
"What's up?"
"I wanted to know if you wanted to come to the Q Center with me tomorrow and meet some of the guys. They're playing a really great movie too."
"The Q Center?" I asked. That sounded vaguely familiar.
"Yeah, you know… where all the gays hang out." He flashed me a wide grin.
"Oh." Of course. I remembered reading about it when I was looking at the different sorts of student groups the university had. I was surprised at the invitation, though. How did he even know I was gay? "Wait, how did you know I was gay?" I asked.
"I didn't. But I do now," he answered with a laugh. "So… you wanna go? I hang out there a lot. The guys are great. Well, most of them."
"What's the movie?"
"It's called Shelter. It's really good. You seen it before?"
"No. I've never even heard of it."
"You'll love it. It starts at seven. I can meet you at your dorm and walk over with you, or you could just meet us there if you want to go."
I thought about it for a few minutes. I hadn't done much socializing at all since I started school, except for occasional coffee with Alice. This was what I had wanted, after all, wasn't it? To be able to be out at college and not have to hide who I was. To make friends with other guys like me. Yes, but you wanted to do those things with Jasper, a voice whispered in my head. I pushed back the surge of sorrow and pain that shot through my gut whenever I thought of Jasper, but something must have shown on my face.
"Hey, it's not a big deal if you don't want to go. There's stuff going on all the time over there. Maybe another night, okay?"
"No," I corrected hurriedly. "It sounds like fun." Jasper wasn't here, after all. Was I going to sit in my dorm room by myself all year? "I'll meet you over there. Thanks."
"Great," he said, enthusiastically. "See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
It was about my fourth or fifth time at the Q Center that someone finally recognized my name.
"Wait, your last name's Masen? Oh shit. You're the guy from that whole Port Angeles thing last year, aren't you?" Geoff, one of the upperclassmen I had been hanging out with asked. He was a big buff guy, a complete sports nut, with an amicable personality. He reminded me a lot of Emmett.
I stiffened.
David looked at me curiously. "What Port Angeles thing?" David was from southern California, so it made sense he wouldn't have heard about it. I knew that wouldn't be the case with anyone from this area. It had been big news.
"Oh, dude, it was in all the papers," Goeff continued. "Everyone here was following the story…"
He broke off after a sharp look from David who had noticed I was having trouble breathing.
"Are you all right, Edward?" he asked, grabbing my arm and walking me over to a sofa to sit down.
I took a few deep calming breaths as I had been taught and I felt my heart rate returning to normal. "I'm fine."
Goeff had joined us at the couch. "Shit, I'm sorry Edward. I shouldn't have brought it up like that. I'm such a fucking moron!" His face was full of concern.
"No, it's okay." Now that one person had connected the dots, it wouldn't be long before I was once again labeled as that guy who got gay bashed in Port Angeles. "It's not like I didn't expect it to come up at some point."
"I'm still sorry. You probably don't like talking about it. Fuck, man. I'm sorry."
"No, really. It's okay." I tried to smile. David was probably dying to ask about it, but he didn't say anything.
I stood up. My legs were a little shaky. "I think I'm just going to head back to the dorm. I'll catch you guys later."
David looked at me uncertainly. "Do you want me to walk back with you?" he asked.
"No, I'm fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"
"If you're sure," he said. I nodded, heading toward the door. I turned around to wave goodbye as I exited. They were both still staring after me.
The next day I resolved to tell David the whole story. He was probably my best friend here and deserved to know, and I'm sure Geoff had filled him in after I left anyway. Plus, I realized that I actually did want to talk about it with someone. Someone who didn't know me from before, or wasn't my shrink, or wasn't Jasper's sister.
"Do you want to grab some lunch with me between classes?" I asked him. I noticed he had been a little nervous around me today, like he didn't know what to say to me.
He gave me a big relieved grin. "Yeah, that sounds great."
Over lunch I told him the whole story. He asked lots of questions afterwards—did I still have any medical problems, what happened to the guys who beat me up, where was Jasper now.
"So he just left? While you were still in the hospital?" his voice was incredulous.
"Yeah," I responded softly.
"Wow. That's harsh."
I didn't say anything. What could I say, after all? If I thought about it too much, I'd be angry and hurt and a fucking mess all over again. And it's not like it would change anything.
David and I became much closer after that conversation. He told me all about growing up in southern California and spending his days surfing at the beach. He'd been openly gay for as long as he could remember.
"It's not like I ever really came out," he told me. "It was sort of, I always knew I was gay, and my parents always knew I was gay, and my friends knew I was gay, and it was just the way it was. No one had a problem with it where I grew up. I mean, sure, I'd get the occasional comment. There are assholes everywhere, but it wasn't like anything you had to deal with.
"That's the way it should be for everyone, you know?" he continued. "I've heard so many stories. We both know you're not the only one who ended up in the hospital, or worse, just for being who you are. Kids should never have to feel like they've got to hide. I figure the more people who are open about the sexuality, the more normal it will seem to everyone else."
I couldn't disagree. He looked up from his coffee and gave me a gentle smile. "I don't want to sound like a condescending dick by saying this, but I'm proud of you for hanging out at the Q Center and getting involved with stuff there after everything you've been through."
I could feel my face flush a little bit with embarrassment. "Yeah, well, I guess when I thought about 'what's the worst that could happen?' I figured I already found that answer out, so things could only look up."
"No shit."
We both laughed and then we moved on to about talking about classes and other less serious topics.
As winter break approached, I became anxious about going home. Alice was going to give me a ride back to Forks and I had restrained myself the last few times we had gotten together from asking about Jasper. I thought, now that it had been almost a year, maybe he would come home for Christmas. I'm sure Esme and Carlisle wanted the whole family together. If he did, I wondered if he'd want to see me. Did he still think of me? Did he still love me?
Finally, I got up enough nerve to ask.
Alice looked at me with those big sad eyes and I felt my heart breaking all over again.
"No, he's not coming home for Christmas. I'm not sure he's ever coming back."
"Not ever?" I asked with a break in my voice. "I thought that once he had some time away…" I knew I sounded pitiful, but I was desperate for a different answer. He had to come home eventually, didn't he?
"Edward, I'm sorry," Alice said. "I don't see it happening."
I looked in her eyes and knew she was telling the truth. That tiny pinpoint of light I had been carrying around for a year flickered and went out.
I leaned over with my elbows on my knees and put my face in my hands, so she wouldn't see me cry. I heard her chair scoot around and then her hand was rubbing my back in sympathy. It didn't help.
David noticed how quiet I was the next few times we saw each other.
"Hey man, what's going on? Do you need to talk?" he asked while we were having coffee between classes.
So I told him. I told him that all this time I'd been waiting, absolutely certain that Jasper was going to come home one day, no matter what everyone else said. I told him how I knew it was Jasper's shit that was keeping him away, but I couldn't help but feel if I had only done something differently, if I only had another chance to talk to him… I trailed off, realizing how stupid I probably sounded.
David didn't look at me like he thought I was stupid, though; he looked as if his eyes might fill with tears any moment. He cleared his throat and leaned toward me.
"Look, I know how much you love the guy. It's obvious. I can tell. I've always been able to see it. But I've gotta say it, just this once. The guy's a fucking idiot. You're wonderful. You're sweet and you're funny, and smart and good-looking, and he's a fool to have left you." I was taken aback at the intensity of his words. His face flushed as he was speaking, but he didn't look away.
I just stared at him in shock. He finally broke our gaze, and fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment before saying, "I'm going to go get a refill. You want some?" I nodded and he grabbed our mugs, walking to the counter.
When he came back to the table he started talking about our final for our Poly Sci class and didn't refer to our previous topic of conversation again.
Over break it was great to catch up with Bella and Mike, and to be home with Mom and Dad. I almost couldn't wait to get back to school though. Everything in Forks reminded me of Jasper. Everything. Now that the realization that he actually wasn't ever coming back was sinking in, I felt like I was going through the grieving process all over again. David and I emailed back and forth a few times, but it wasn't anything I could really discuss with him. And I certainly didn't want to tell my mom that I'd been holding on to hope this whole time. She'd think I hadn't been taking my therapy seriously at all.
I had realized, after that afternoon at school, that David liked me. As in, liked me liked me. I felt a little stupid not having figured it out until then, but I was still so wrapped up in thoughts of Jasper I didn't even notice. I mean, he had been checking me out practically the very first day of school. He spent a ton of his free time with me. He never went out with other guys, even though I knew he had had several boyfriends before. I probably should have been able to figure it out. I wasn't really sure what I thought about the situation. I mean, I had never even thought of anyone like that since I had been to college; I was still too hung up on Jasper.
That's why, when I ran into him once I was back on campus and he invited me for coffee, I got flustered and didn't know how to respond.
"It's only for coffee," he said, smiling gently. "C'mon. You can tell me how your break was."
I didn't have a good reason to refuse. It's not like we hadn't gotten coffee together a million times before. "Okay, but I'm running late for class," I told him. "It'll have to be later."
I was in the dorm, pacing, and was already running almost twenty minutes late. I had started to leave half dozen times, then stopped, wondering if I should text him to cancel. Did he think this was a date? Did he want this to be a date? Did I want this to be a date? God, I knew I was over-thinking things. Finally, I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door.
When I got to the coffee shop, I saw David sitting in the corner by himself, slowly tearing a napkin into tiny pieces.
He looked up as I approached and the crease on his forehead disappeared as his face morphed into a relieved smile.
"Hey, I almost thought you weren't coming." He tried to sound like he was joking, but I could hear the seriousness behind the words.
"I'm sorry I was late," I replied. I pulled off my jacket and put it over the back of the chair. "I'll be right back," I said as I went to the counter to order my coffee.
When I got back to the table, we kind of looked at each other not knowing what to say. An awkward silence filled the space.
We both started speaking at the same time, and that broke the tension, causing us to laugh.
"You first," I said.
"No, you."
"Okay. I was just asking how your break was."
"Oh. It was nice. Yours?"
"It was fine."
We were both silent again.
"Fuck," he finally said under his breath. "I knew I ruined things."
I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't say anything.
He took a deep breath. "Okay, here's the thing. Obviously, you've figured out I like you." He rolled his eyes a little at himself and I smiled. "I wasn't ever going to say anything, because I knew you were still in love with that guy. And you've been through some serious shit and didn't need someone pressuring you or anything. But, you know, when you were going on about him leaving and that you might have had something to do with it, I just got pissed. Because that is all on him and I think you know that."
I nodded.
"So, yeah, I let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. I have a crush on you. I want to date you. I want to be your boyfriend and buy you pretty things." He was giving me a look that was making me laugh.
"Most of all, I want to still be your friend. You're my best friend here and I'd hate to lose that because I fucked up one day. I know you're probably not ready to see anyone, and really, I'm cool with how things were. Really. Truly. So can't we maybe go back to just hanging out, the way we did before I revealed my super secret big gay crush?"
He was looking at me with a smile and a hopeful expression in his gorgeous brown eyes.
"I promise to never ever mention that I've imagined what you look like naked."
I almost choked on my coffee and he shot me a cheeky grin. Now I was rolling my eyes.
He grew serious again. "I never meant to make you uncomfortable. Can we please still hang out?"
I gave a little nod and looked down at my coffee thinking for a minute. I didn't want to lose his friendship either, but I thought I needed to be crystal clear about where my head was right now.
"I've never really thought of you like that before." I winced realizing how that sounded.
"I mean," I paused. I wasn't really sure what I meant. "I'm not ready to date anyone," I finally said.
"I know that, Edward," he said quietly. "I do."
"Okay."
Things were a little awkward between us the first few times we got together after that, but eventually we fell right back into our easy friendship. I almost forgot he was harboring stronger feelings for me. Winter quarter ended and at my parents' urging, I agreed to go someplace warm for spring break instead of coming home to Forks. They wanted my college experience to be as authentic as possible. A lot of the guys were going to Puerto Vallarta, but I wasn't sure I was up for a big party scene. Besides, I was already going to Mexico with my parents for the summer. David invited me home for the week, and it turned out to be an ideal compromise.
We went to the beach every day where he tried, rather unsuccessfully, to teach me how to surf. We walked the pier at night, going out to eat at various restaurants. We went out dancing at the clubs, and on our last night there, when he pulled me close and kissed me, I kissed him back.
Once we were back in Seattle, things were different between us. We still did the same things and hung out with the same people, but sometimes he'd hold my hand, or I'd hold his. Instead of greeting each other with a hug or a kiss on the cheek, it'd be with a peck on the lips. And occasionally, we'd sink into the sofa next to each other and kiss long and languorously, our hands wandering down the other's chest, or slipping up to the back of the neck, soft hair through our fingers.
He never pushed for more and neither did I. I already felt, deep in my heart, that I was betraying Jasper, even though my head told me how ridiculous that was.
I started to notice things about him, how nice his smile was and how good he always smelled. As summer approached, the days grew warmer and on the occasional sunny day, we'd throw the Frisbee or play touch football, which inevitably ended with shirts removed and tackles to the grass. I laughed as he landed hard on top of me then stole a quick kiss before getting up and offering me a hand to pull me to my feet. I'd remember the weight of his body against mine and I'd feel the stirrings of desire in my belly. He caught me staring at him a few times and my face flushed when he wagged his eyebrows and winked at me.
The next time we were making out, he pushed me back and crawled over me, pressing his body down on mine. I could feel his arousal and my pulse quickened, an answering heat rushing through me. Our kisses became deeper and we moved against each other, desire flaring, hardness to hardness. Eventually, he stilled and rested his forehead on my shoulder, whispering that he had better go. After he left I stroked myself to orgasm, trying to image only David's face. As I came all over my stomach, confusing images danced before my mind's eye—brown eyes brightening to gold, tan skin changing to pale. When I fell asleep, I dreamt of a meadow and a velvet voice whispering poetry into my ear.
He took me to dinner and flirted with me all evening, brushing his leg against mine, teasing me with his eyes and his hands and his mouth. When we got back to my dorm room, it was only seconds before we were tearing each other's shirts off and crushing our lips together.
"Your roommate?" he panted, as he urged me down onto the bed with him.
"At his girlfriend's again," I answered, rolling over and pulling him on top of me.
Our hips ground against each other as our tongues slid together, tasting and exploring. We were all heat and want, whispered words of desire, soft moans and quickened heartbeats. I felt his movements becoming erratic as his hands gripped my shoulders and he buried his face in my neck. He cried out as he tensed above me and I gasped, arching up underneath him, finding my own release. He turned his head to mine and we kissed, long and deep.
After a few minutes he pulled back and leaned up on his elbows to look at me. His lips quirked up and then he snickered, there was no other word for it, then we were both laughing at ourselves for coming in our pants. He was still smiling as he looked down on me, one hand combing through my hair then resting against my cheek as his thumb ran lightly across my lips. He leaned over kissing me softly on my forehead, my cheeks, my jaw, running his nose against my face, whispering words of thanks, telling me how beautiful I was and how good I felt. I experienced a disconcerting moment of déjà vu, but pushed it aside, smiling back at him.
I asked him if he wanted to stay and his face lit up in a radiant smile. I lent him some pajama pants and we took turns cleaning up in the bathroom. I told him he could use my toothbrush and he told me I was disgusting, but then used it anyway. He fell asleep curled up around me, his arm encircling my waist, his forehead against my shoulder. I stayed awake far into the night, unable to sleep, my mind racing with thoughts I didn't want to be having.
In the morning I watched his smile fade as he took in my exhausted appearance. He was quiet over coffee and I made pointless conversation, trying to assure him that everything was all right.
We didn't see each other after that for several more days since finals were coming up and we both had papers to complete and studying to do. When we did, we didn't mention the other night and I'd catch him staring at me, an expression on his face I couldn't quite figure out.
After we turned in our final papers and took our last exam, we went to a party to celebrate the end of the school year. We walked back to my room at the end of the night, both a little drunk. We were standing in the middle of the room, laughing, making out with sloppy kisses. He tugged at my shirt, lifting it over my head, then covered my newly exposed skin with open mouth kisses, sucking on my nipples, walking around behind me and kissing the back of my neck. He pressed his erection against my backside and his arms circled around my stomach, rubbing soft circles on my skin. "God, you're so fucking sexy," he whispered in my ear as his fingers played with my nipples. I craned my neck to kiss him, our tongues darting into each other's mouths. His hand slid down to my waistband and started to undo the button on my jeans. I groaned as he reached down my pants to cup my erection beneath his hand.
"Is this okay?" he asked in a breathless voice as he stroked my cock through my underwear. I groaned in response, pushing my dick harder against his hand. As he touched me, mouth on my skin, pulling my body back against him, stroking me with his hand, I had another flash of a memory, a voice whispering in my ear, "Let me make you feel good," and "I promise I won't run this time." I stiffened, a crushing wave of longing rushing through me.
David's movements stilled and I stood there, my heart pounding with a confusing mixture of desire and anxiety. I finally pulled away and fastened my pants back up, not able to look at him. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I don't think I can do this."
David came over and put his hands on my shoulders. "Hey, look at me," he said softly. I raised my eyes to his face and saw him smiling softly at me, even as his expression was overlaid with sadness. "It's okay, Edward. Really. We'll talk tomorrow, all right?" I nodded and he leaned in to kiss me on the check before saying, "Good night. I'll call you in the morning."
After he left, I sat on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands. David was great. He was everything I could ever want in a boyfriend. He was cute and nice and funny. And hot. My body reacted to his in very exciting ways. Plus he was a great friend. So why was I pulling back?
I already knew the answer, even if I didn't want to admit it: Jasper.
It wasn't that I still had hope that Jasper was coming back. I knew he was gone. But loving Jasper had changed me. Even though he said our relationship should never have happened, that it was wrong, I knew it had been the most right thing I would probably ever experience in my entire life.
With Jasper I had experienced love, deep and true, powerful and passionate. Nothing I had felt since then could possible compare to the richness and depth of my feelings for him. Nothing. I had been young; I had been naïve, but I had loved him with my whole heart, and I knew he had loved me that way too. It had been real. I knew it with the certainty of absolute truth.
I cared about David. I did. I even loved him. But not in the way that I should. Maybe I was condemning myself to a lifetime of loneliness, but I was slowly realizing that I was doing us both a disservice by trying to take our relationship further. David deserved someone who would love him the way I loved Jasper—fully, wholly, passionately. And I didn't want to settle for anything less than I knew was possible. Not anymore. Life was too short. I had felt it; I had lived it. I wanted it again, a love so stunning and wild that it could bring me to life, thrilling every inch of me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
I arranged to meet David for coffee in the morning. We got our drinks to go and took a walk. When we spotted a bench off by itself, we made our way over and took a seat. I sucked in a deep breath preparing to speak when David cut me off.
"I know you're not ready. I'll wait for you. However long it takes. I'll wait until you're ready." His face was sincere and I saw the shadow of desperation on it. He knew.
"David," I began.
"Wait. Not yet," he begged. Then he leaned over, pulling my face toward him with his hand against the back of my neck. He kissed me, deep and slow, lips moving, tongue sliding. I tasted salt after a moment and felt my own eyes tearing up.
Finally he pulled back and I reached over to wipe the dampness off his face.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "You know I care about you. But I'm still in love with him. It's not fair to you."
"I don't need fair," he protested, and I smiled gently.
"Yes. You do."
He pulled me to him and buried his face in my neck as his body shook with sobs. My own tears slid down my face and I kissed the top of his head, holding him tight.
We held hands as we walked back to campus. I kissed him again when we said goodbye, and we promised to email each other over the summer. When he left I flung myself face down on my bed and buried my face in my pillow, hoping I hadn't made the biggest mistake of my life.
I lay on my stomach listening to the sound of the ocean, feeling the heat beating down on my back. We had been in Mexico for a few weeks now, staying at a resort run by a couple my mom had been friends with in college. They had tried to get us to visit for years, but we had always had other plans. This summer my mom thought we should take things easy, hang with friends and laze on the beach. The resort was located about a half hour north of Troncones and we had plenty of opportunities to take short sight seeing trips to different parts of Mexico if we wanted.
Their season usually ran from November to May, so we had the place to ourselves. The restaurant and gift shop were closed, but they still had one of the couples who worked for them come in a few times a week to prepare meals and clean. We were staying in one of their air conditioned suites. My mom and dad had the large bedroom and I was sleeping on the pullout in the living room. My Godfather Daniel and his partner Alan were planning to join us for a week later in the summer. My mom was excited to finally meet their daughter Anna, who they had successfully adopted earlier in the year. They wished they could stay longer, but they had used up most of their leave after bringing Anna home.
The days seem to blend into each other in a haze of sun and sand. In the morning we'd get up and have coffee and pastries on the wide covered porch of the main building. We'd head down to the beach for a few hours, then come back for lunch and a siesta in the air conditioned suite. I usually went back to the beach in late afternoon. The others sometimes joined me, but more often I was alone. I liked to walk along the edge of the water, letting the waves pull the sand from underneath my feet. In the early evening we'd have cold drinks, and when the sun started going down, we'd eat dinner together, then sit around the table for hours afterwards, talking and laughing and drinking cocktails. My twentieth birthday had come and gone and we spent the day the same as all the others, with the exception of some cake and champagne after dinner. As I blew out the candles, I thought of Jasper and David and wished that they both might find happiness. My mom had reached over to give me a big hug, ruffling my hair and wondering aloud how her little baby had gotten so big.
I had plenty of time to think about both Jasper and David during the hours I spent on the beach, letting the sun soak into my skin. After some time away, I knew I had done the right thing breaking up with David. I would always care for him, but I would never love him the way that I had loved Jasper. I still couldn't think about Jasper without that painful ache, but I understood him better now. I didn't agree with the decisions he had made, and I still held onto considerable anger at him making the unilateral choice to leave as he did, but I really did think I finally understood.
I wondered what next year would be like. David had emailed and said that he was looking into transferring to school in California. I had though more about what I wanted to do with my future and law school was looking more and more promising. It had been a tough year and a half, but I was hopeful about the future.
"Where's Dad?" I asked the next morning as we all sat around having coffee.
"He doesn't feel well," my Mom said. "I think he's coming down with something."
"Oh no," Ava said. "Do you think he'll be up to coming with us tomorrow?"
They were planning a road trip to do some buying for the gift shop. Ava and her husband John stocked it with authentic Mexican handcrafted items—pottery and jewelry, textiles and clothing, and decorative household items. They usually spent part of the summer going to different cities and villages, shopping for items to stock the shop with. My mom and dad had talked about going with them for a few days and doing some sightseeing.
"I'm not sure. We'll see how he feels tomorrow. He's usually a big baby when he's sick, so I'm guessing we'll be staying here." She smiled fondly.
The next morning Dad was still feeling under the weather and Mom said she felt like she was coming down with it too. She called me in to their bedroom and asked me to let Ava and John know that they weren't feeling well and for them to go on without them.
"Can you bring us back something to drink, too, honey?"
"Sure Mom."
I let Ava know they were both staying in bed. She took some time to make sure I knew how to work everything in the kitchen, which frozen meals were easy to prepare, where the closest doctor was and where she kept the keys to the Jeep if we needed someone to take a look at them.
"I hate to leave while they're sick," she said, looking indecisive.
"I'll be here," I told her. "I can take care of them."
"You're such a good boy," she said, ruffling my hair with a grin and squeezing my face. I laughed.
"Okay, well Marta will be over Thursday if you need anything. We'll check in when we can, although I don't know how easy it will be. We're usually on the road quite a bit on these trips."
"We'll be fine. You guys be safe."
"Okay, honey. We'll see you in a week or two."
I took Mom and Dad some bottled water and a few cans of ginger ale I found in the kitchen then went down to the beach for a few hours. When I got back they were looking worse and had fevers running. I rummaged through the main building for their first aid and found some Tylenol to help get their temperatures down. Mom said she didn't think they could eat anything right now.
The next morning I woke up with a scratchy throat and by mid afternoon, I thought my head would explode. I brought some more drinks down to the suite and made sure they both took some more Tylenol. I was thinking if their fevers weren't down by night, I was going to have to find them a doctor. They looked really sick.
I was feeling worse by the minute myself. I decided I was going to lie down for a hour and check on them after I took a nap. I really felt like shit and my head was killing me. I knew I'd feel better if I could just rest for a little bit. I ripped my sweaty t-shirt off and collapsed on the pull-out before succumbing to exhaustion.
Chapter 19 | Masterpost | Poetry
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