AN: So, I posted this as a one-shot and then realized that there was more, so I'm writing it. Also, there's a pretty substantial revision to Jasper's piece in this section, so even if you've already read this chapter, you might want to skim through that one to see what you've missed. Sorry! I don't usually revise once I've posted but, gah, I had to. He made me!
Get Me To You
Senior Year, Fall
It didn't matter that it wasn't going to work with me and Edward. It didn't matter that I loved him with my whole heart, and it didn't matter that for one perfect afternoon and one perfect night he had loved me that way too. What mattered was the here and now. What mattered was that in the morning he was back to himself. Classic Edward.
He tossed my clothes to me on his way to the shower. I rolled down the staircase and fuck her if Esme saw me and I walked home and went to bed. I held the furious tears at bay.
It was just…gone.
The afternoon before though, he had given me that look, that perfect Edward look, my favorite Edward look and when he'd peeled my clothes off of me and kissed me and touched me I felt perfect and I felt like his favorite and goddammit I know that it wasn't my imagination. For one afternoon and one night Edward Cullen loved me. But in the morning? It was hustle and flow and get your shit together and what, did you think I was going to drive you to school? Make some big statement with you in the passenger seat, my arm around you like we're in love or some shit like that? Get going, Swan.
And I was gone.
10 AM, two missed classes and six ignored phone calls later, who comes scraping through my bedroom window but Jasper. The one single fucking person I could count on in this shitty fucking little town. And yeah, he watched my tits like Edward watched my ass and Emmett watched my legs, but that was just boy shit. It was more than that with us. With Jasper it was chill and quiet and bluegrass on the stereo without being embarrassed and strawberry Pop Tarts right out of the box and fuck the crumbs getting all over. With Jasper it was holding hands and nestling into his chest because it was safe to be with him. His heart was with Alice and I knew that, and he knew I knew and there was no space for anyone else there. And my heart was with Edward he knew that too, and he knew that I was safe for him, because I couldn't love them both.
So when he shows up at my window pushing Alison Krauss with Phish and strawberry Pop Tarts and calling me his little Bellatrix, what was I going to say? Get out? Fuck no. I needed him right then. I needed someone, just one fucking someone, to care a little bit about me, to be on my side, just for that day. So he gets under my covers and he puts one honeyed limb around me and I nestle into his chest and cry like love's bitch. And when I cried it all out and there was nothing left he kissed the top of my head and says in that accent, straight out of New Orleans, "Trix, cher, you listening to this?" Because Alison was talking about how if she could, she would. But Trey didn't know how.
And I have to laugh and he grins that Jasper grin and his eyes are honeyed gold, just like his hair, just like his skin and I'm not even thinking anything when I kiss his cheek but he turns at the last second and I hit his mouth and he doesn't pull away and I open my eyes and he's kissing me and looking at me and it's not like kissing a brother or a cousin and it's not like kissing myself but it's warm and sweet and it felt good. Good enough that I didn't stop but neither did he and when I shifted and touched his face he closed his eyes and I closed mine and then his hands were in my hair pulling me closer to him and it was good.
When we finally came up for air I said Alice and he said Edward and we both shook our heads because we both knew that shit wasn't happening for either one of us. And we both knew that if it did happen for one of us that it wouldn't matter because fuck, if he had a shot at Alice, at her loving him? I would want that for him. He was my friend. I couldn't be jealous there. He knew the score and so did I and it was okay because if it wasn't in love it was still love. It was soft and sweet and kindness, not dark and hard and full of tears.
So when he pushed his hand up under my shirt and palmed my breast and I pressed it into his hand it felt good. When his mouth began singing songs against my neck and I wove my fingers into his shaggy blond hair it was good. When I pulled off his shirt and he pulled off mine and I could press myself against him it was hot skin on hot skin that was good. Just like it was good when he rolled onto me and looked down into my eyes and he whispered "my little Bellatrix" which only he called me and I realized in that moment that yes, I was his. I could be this for him. I could give myself up, I could even make some space in the corner of my heart for him. I could love him. Because if I was his Bellatrix then he was my Jas.
I wanted him that day and he wanted me too, but we both knew it was wrong, that I was coming down too hard from Edward and neither one of us wanted this to be colored with that. So he kissed me. He kissed me and kissed me and I kissed him and with every touch of his tongue to mine, with every pass of his lips I was able to tuck Edward away a little further and he was able to put Alice wherever he put her and with the feel of his skin on mine I was able to shove the other stuff aside and then I did make a space in the corner of my heart for him and that was good too.
He stayed with me that day and we did what we always do. We listened to music and we watched movies and we laughed and we solved the problems of the world. He told me why Machiavelli was wrong and I told him to shove his bleeding heart shit up his ass, because the fact of the matter is, sometimes you've got to be ruthless. In between being just us, Trix and Jas, we kissed and we touched and there was a sweetness there that I needed, and he had it to give so I took it.
That night, after he left, I wondered at what we'd started. Would we go back to friends tomorrow? Would we be lovers one day and friends the next and never call it anything? But that wasn't right, and I knew it. That's what Edward would do. And what Edward was; Jasper was not. Jasper was light and sun and warm where Edward was darkness and cold and Every. Fucking. Thing. was a struggle with him. Everything was hard. With Jasper it was easy. It was easy to kiss and then talk and then kiss some more.
The next day I got up and got to school and Jasper was in the parking lot talking to Edward and yeah, that was a hard fucking walk to take, right up to the two of them, because I miss school the day after Edward fucks me and there's not even a text message to check on me, and thank god for that because what? I'm going to interrupt a kiss from Jasper to take a text from Edward? I can't even be that fucked up.
So I walk over and just as the panic is about neck high Jasper becomes Jas and he grabs my wrist and gives me a twirl and says "why Trixie, cher, aren't you lovely today?" and then he pulls a daisy out from behind his ear and tickles my nose with it before he tucks it into my hair. Like that I knew. We were on.
We weren't hiding it, but we weren't flaunting it either. Still Emmett knew fast. But then, he had a sixth sense for when pussy went off the market. I think he mourned it for a minute and I know he wanted to ask Jasper about it and he probably did, but a minute after I saw the recognition in his eyes he was lifting me up by my waist and calling me dollface like he always did and that's how I knew it was all going to be cool. I know he told Rosalie because he couldn't keep shit from her and he gossiped like a girl. But she didn't give a fuck about me or Jasper so I don't know if it even registered. Alice was still busy mooning over the one gay boy in Forks High School, swearing he had style and I like that I was the only one who knew that when Jasper called her cher, he meant it in the Clueless way.
Some people noticed and some people didn't and some people gossiped but mostly they gossiped about us all anyway, so who the fuck cares what they were saying about me and Jasper. If Edward knew, well, he didn't let on and every time I looked his way he had some new girl rocking his jock and that made it all easier. At least he gave me that.
When Edward came to my window three nights later and wanted under my covers I let him in. We talked in the dark and he was my favorite Edward again, he was soft and the gates were open and I got his low laugh in the dark. I got him whispering Isabella, like it was a secret word, a password. Like it would get him into Cibola. But he didn't try to kiss me and I wouldn't have let him because how many times can you break your own heart and get clean of it in the morning?
When I woke up in the morning I was alone like always, and the space in my heart for Jasper got bigger. Edward would always be there, all quiet secrets in the dark, but Jasper was the light and when I crawled into his bed I woke up with him in the morning. Honey kisses from a honeyed man and it was always warm and safe with him instead of cold and hard with Edward.
For now, that was enough.
# # #
I was holding my little Bella-trix in my arms and it was another Sunday morning and we had no place to be. I might be Alice's moon, but shoot, I could be this little girl's sun and she could be mine, both of us getting ourselves into the light. And she fits me, you know? Tucked into the corner of my arm she fits against me all sweet and smelling like strawberry shampoo and flowers on her skin and even when she uses my shower she still smells like flowers to me.
I like her using my shower too. I like the way she fits against me. I like the way she can move from tongues to T.S.O.L. to Thoreau to tickles. I like the little surprised sounds she makes when she comes, like she's shocked by it, every time.
That day in her bedroom, she's holding on to me, all deep sobs and fisted hands and I think I hated him a little bit then. At least Alice isn't pretending that she maybe loves me and maybe doesn't. So I just held her tight, my little Trix, and she cried it out and that was a long cry coming and then I played her the sweetest song I know and whispered things that would make her smile and it worked. I was holding on to her and thinking how this was good and this was soft and this was right. When she leaned up to kiss my cheek – that girl was always throwing kisses around, like they weren't worth anything, you know? – I caught her mouth with mine because she needed to see that some kisses shouldn't be given away. I didn't know if she'd take my kiss, but she did, all wide-eyed and confused and then she felt it and relaxed into it and brought her hand to my face and then I let go and just was. With her.
It took us three weeks of kisses and touches and various and sundry sighs before we could get any more along. We danced around it that first week and then she had her period the week after that and I'll tell you straight I was nervous. I didn't think she was a virgin, and I don't know if Cullen was the one who changed that, but I did know that I didn't want that little girl crying while I still had my dick inside her and I didn't want her fisting her hands around someone else's shirt, tucking in to someone else's side, because I was the one who disappointed her.
So that third week I waited. I teased her slow. I blew hot breath against the back of her neck at her locker. I kissed her long and slow and deep until she was pushing herself against me ten ways from Sunday and then I eased back because if she was going to come to me she had to be coming to me. I looked into her eyes and kissed the inside of her wrist. I held her tight all night long, never taking my arms away from her waist and when she tossed and turned I said shush now and she did and settled back into my arms. I picked flowers for her hair and I left notes in her locker and I sent her to gym with a playlist on my iPod and come Saturday night when everyone else was drunk and fucking she tugged the hem of my shirt and I brought her home to my bed and I laid her down.
We kissed and that kiss that started out soft and smooth became harder with teeth and panting and her hot breath and soft moans in my mouth. She's saying I want you, I want to and oh, little girl, I want to too. But I have to ask, I have to know. You have to know this sort of thing before you get in there and so I say to her are you and she looks up at me confused and her tongue is almost still and she says don't you have a condom and I smile because cher, that is not what I was asking about. I have my hand on the bare skin of her waist and I want to slide it down to her ass because she's grinding against my knee and I want to help her get to where she's going but there's a better way to do that so I ask again. Bella, Trix, I say. Have you? Before? And her face flushes and she looks away from my face and then I understood the tears that started this whole thing and I hated him a little more. But then I didn't because if Cullen wasn't such a fuck up I would not be here now. With her.
I kissed her again and she forgot to be embarrassed. I pulled her in tight to me, pulled off her jeans and her panties, pulled off her t-shirt and her white cotton bra and pushed her back onto the bed and pushed myself inside of her. And That. Fit. Too. I didn't think it could be so sweet, so good, but I should have known because it was wrapped up in love and how I got so lucky I do not know.
Shit, my cock gets hard just thinking about getting that girl off, all candymouth and perfect tits and how she looks all flushed when she's fucking my hand or my mouth or my dick. It doesn't matter, she gets off and that shit is so sexy that I get off just watching her go. But then sometimes she does this thing where she sinks to her knees and that little candymouth wraps around my cock and she's got her big brown eyes on mine and her mouth on me and she's making these little noises in the back of her throat and it vibrates down my cock and she's scraping her nails against my balls and that vibrates up my cock and it took her a day to learn what sends me over the edge and sometimes she gives it to me but sometimes she teases it out and fuck if that shit isn't sexy too.
I leaned over and tickled her stomach with my hair before I slipped my tongue under the band of her little white cotton boy shorts. I clicked the remote and filled the room with Ella which was classic and cliché all at the same time and that was okay because Sunday mornings were languid, like it was 90 degrees with a cool breeze and the ocean beating time outside our door. It was time for cliché.
Sunday mornings with my little Bella-trix. Both of us sleeping late, hiding from daylight, hiding from our friends because while the rest of them might get fucked up and fuck, this was more than that and I don't mind saying that I need this time with this girl to set me straight and get me through the week. Sunday mornings were for playing music and making love, slow and sweet until she flushed and made that little sound of surprise. Until she opened her eyes and smiled at me, that candymouth smile that a lesser man would try to own but that I was happy just to hide in. Sunday mornings buried deep inside of her, completely surrounded by the brown tangle of hair and the big brown eyes and the little pink mouth and pink nipples and the dark pink sweet wet oh fuck yes and coming with a shudder and her name on my tongue. On Sunday mornings we could wash away the bourbon and mint and the shit of another week surrounded by people too wrapped up in their own pain to notice anyone else's in a cool shower that starts with shampoo and ends with surprised little 'oh''s spilling out of that girl's mouth.
And yeah, she is in love with my best friend and he is in love with her and that makes me a prick. But he ain't smart enough to know that he loves her yet, and even when he figures it out he's gonna fuck it up because he's Edward Cullen and he doesn't know what a heart is for. But still, when he figures it out and he comes for her she'll go and that'll be okay. Because even if he doesn't fuck it all up and he gets the rest of his life with her, well, I got Sunday mornings first. I got Sunday mornings with Ella and Etta and strawberry Pop Tarts and crumbs in the bed and white cotton panties that give under my tongue, that trap my fingers right inside of her where I am the musician and she is the instrument. Sunday mornings watching Bullitt or Bond or reading Dick or Faulkner. She likes it when I read her Faulkner. She likes my drawl and I like her smile so we both win with that one.
Sunday mornings, when I don't have to think about where Alice is or who or what she's doing because someone else is always tending to sweet Alice on Sunday mornings. And with another girl, I would feel bad, but this is us, this is me and my Bella-trix and I don't have to feel bad because she knows how my world turns. Because she is better than probably any one of us, more pure and more kind and if I can help keep them from eating her alive, then maybe I'm not such a prick after all. Because when sweet Alice comes for me, my little Bella-trix will open up her arms and let me go, and she will do it with a smile because she is good and pure and kind and the rest of us are shit and until she realizes that, I have Sunday mornings.
I have the rest of the week, too. I have any night I want. I whisper and she comes and once or twice she's said no and I know it's because he wants her time and yeah, I'm jealous those nights but I know that she won't even open her mouth to him. Her heart, but not her mouth. It's a tricky boundary we've set. Sacred bodies, open hearts. And mostly when we make love, it's sweet and good and it feels right, the way I fit into her and she twists into me.
But sometimes we fuck and it's hard and fast and we both know that we're not thinking of each other, that we're using each other to rub out the others and when she comes she's not surprised, she's screaming it out.
At school she slides up to me all open arms and candymouth smiles and big brown eyes and sometimes I swear I think they all must be blind because this girl is amazing and beautiful. This girl is love, walking and talking. This girl is mine and I am not hiding that shit. I'm not advertising either because I know that there will be some shit when Edward figures it out but he's so wrapped up in himself and his head games that he can't even imagine that she's not pining for him. He thinks because she's on Emmett's lap that she's safe and waiting because we all know that if Emmett gets with her that Rosalie will cut him off and he's so sprung on that girl that he wouldn't dream of risking it.
And when Emmett asked about us? Like he was asking what it's like to be inside of Fort Knox. And I wouldn't even answer and that told him what he needed to know. Not just a lay, Emmett. Shut the fuck up. That's my girl you're talking about. Because Cullen may have his head up his ass but the rest of us can see her shining like she do. And that shit is mine. Mine on Friday night when she's shaking her ass on the dance floor, taunting some junior who thinks he's gonna work up his nerve and take a shot. Mine on Wednesday night when I pick her up and carry her to my bed and there's laughter and smiles and groans and shudders. Mine with the big brown eyes and sweet skin at the crook of her neck that says bite me and I'll make that noise that you like. Mine to wrap in old t-shirts because I want everyone to know the next day at school that yeah, she is mine. Mine on Sunday mornings and close the windows to the world and turn off the phone and sleep off the booze and smoke a cigarette so she can like the way it tastes on my tongue. Mine.
So I take her kisses in the hallway and when she gets that look like she's the deer and they're the Hummer I take her hand and I pull her out of it because that's what you do when you love somebody. And I love that girl. Be clear on that. It might not be the crushing, killing love that I have for Alice, but it's love and it's real and if Cullen comes calling I might just have to fight him. For Sunday mornings. Candymouth. Etta and Ella and cotton panties.
# # #
The fuck of it was that I didn't know how long it'd been going on for. I mean, fuck. How long have they been fucking? Nothing changed, you know? She still flirted shamelessly. He still let any stupid bitch sit on his lap, so unless you were paying attention, how fuck could you tell there was something happening?
She still let me come to her window. She still let me sleep in her fucking bed some nights. She still talked to me, quiet, in the dark when it was just us and I could be my best self for her because nobody was looking so no one could see who I really am. It was only for her.
And the nights when she wasn't there, she'd just say sleepover and I figured Alice and that was that and good and fine except that one night I really needed to talk to her. So I went to Alice's house and she wasn't there, and I called Jasper and he didn't answer his phone and when I called Emmett and found him dick deep in Rosalie, I knew there was a motherfucking problem. Who the fuck was she sleeping over with?
The next day I got to school early. She'd show up in her wreck of truck, or she'd show up with whoever she slept over with. I pulled into my spot then moved to the back of the car, leaning against it. After a few minutes I parked my ass on the trunk. She would show up.
And then she did. In her wreck of a truck. Which meant she went home at some point, because that fuckheap was parked in her driveway last night. And she parked and slipped out of the cab wearing fucking cut off shorts and an old fucking Sublime t-shirt and that's when I fucking knew it. Because, that shirt used to be mine. And Jasper borrowed it in 10th grade and never gave it back. So what the fuck was Bella doing with it? Besides bouncing her tits in it?
I didn't wait to say shit, to either of them. I walked into the school but then I thought, fuck. Two classes with him and one with her and one with the both of them? Plus fucking lunch? Fuck that shit. I turned around and I was gone.
Spent two days driving and pretending my phone was broken and then it was Friday night and the Hales were in Tahiti and Rosalie was having people over, which meant 48 hours of 100 people drunk and stoned and sex and wet and hot and soft and I had to be there. I had to see them. I mean, it didn't have to be true, did it? They were tight, we all knew it. Maybe it was a sleep over like our sleep overs. All quiet talking in the dark until someone fell asleep. It could be like that, right?
She walked in first, wearing fucking nothing, as usual. Tiny fucking skirt with Chucks and stripey socks coming halfway up her calves. Another old concert tee but this wasn't one of mine so I didn't have to fight the urge to tear it off her, growling that it's mine. She made a spot on Emmett's lap, and he put an arm around her, his hand on her bare fucking thigh and she let him draw circles there while she sipped who knows what out of a red plastic cup, her mouth curving around it.
An hour later it was a bottle of beer, slushy like she liked it because I'm the fucktard who put it in the freezer for her, then fetched it out to her like a fucking freshman lap dog. Emmett just gave me the what the fuck eyebrows and Bella took it without hardly seeing my face, which made me give her the what the fuck eyebrows but then Jasper walked in the fucking door with an arm over Alice, his fingertips dangling over the top of her tits and yeah, he was still sprung for her, so this could be okay.
And I could forgive Bella, you know? I mean, fuck. She was just some girl. But Jasper? He was my fucking blood man. From the seventh grade when Newton called him a fag and I had to corral Emmett to kick Newton's ass while Jasper just stood there and took it all in. That boy was my fucking blood. And he knew. He knew that I wanted her. He knew that morning when he came to pick her up and got there too soon, and I was climbing down the fucking tree, trying to avoid the Chief.
He just fucking looked at me. And I couldn't fucking hide it – the high coming off of a night with Bella. The way just waking up to see her face in the morning, no defenses, soft and sleepy, left me feeling better than the best fucking bud from Mendo. Just…smooth. Mellow.
And he just looked at me, and he fucking knew. He gave me that grin, that fucking, I'm Jasper Whitlock and I know everything which is why I am so above it all, which is why I don't wallow grin.
And now he's sharing my old shirts with Bella.
"Trix," Jasper called out and she gave a little squeal as she popped off of Emmett's lap and Emmett gave her ass a squeeze. She bounded over to Jasper and gave him a hug and handed over her plastic cup of whatever. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Then Bella pulled Alice aside and the two of them ran off somewhere to talk about lip gloss or whatever the fuck it is girls go away to talk about. Didn't matter. I pulled another beer out of the fridge and sat back on a barstool to watch. If Bella was fucking Whitlock I was going to find out tonight.
Two hours later found Alice on Emmett's lap and Rosalie tormenting some underclassman by crossing and uncrossing her legs. How fucking Basic Instinct. I don't even know why she goes in for that shit. She knows Emmett's going to be banging the fuck out her later anyway. Bella was dancing and that shit was fucking obscene, and Jasper was in the corner dealing cards and holding court and taking cash off all the kiddies.
And then it happened. She stilled her hips and looked over at him and he looked up at her and she tongued the opening of her bottle of beer, and there was no fucking doubt in my mind that she was fucking him. Fuck, she wasn't even hiding it, not really. Anyone could have looked over, anyone could have seen that shit. That sexy lover shit that she was putting out for him. I looked over at him and he was just fucking grinning and a minute later he was heading up the stairs and thirty seconds later she went after and five minutes and three shots later, like the fucking sucker I am, I went too.
He wouldn't take her to a bedroom, I knew. Not his Trix. He wouldn't want to be interrupted by fucking Mike Newton trying to tap Stanley's ass again, or some other loser duo trying to make it in the Hale house. At least I knew that if he was fucking her he wasn't treating her like some fucking pimped out piece of freshman ass. If he was fucking her was treating her like.
Aw, motherfuck. He's treating her like a friend, like he actually cares about her or some shit.
I tracked them down on the roof, exactly where I knew they would be, exactly where he would only take someone he fucking cared about. I heard her little high pitched, breathy gasp and I knew what that was about because I heard that shit every night in my dreams and every morning when I was jacking off in the shower and then I saw them. She was up on her tip toes in her Chucks and he had his hand at the small of her back, and she was leaning up, whispering in his ear and he chuckled and then drew away and looked at her and fuckitall.
Jasper Whitlock loved her.
And she loved him too. She was looking in his eyes and giving him that secret Bella smile that she'd given me, that I'd been fucking panting for ever since I blew it. So what the fuck was I supposed to do now? Go interrupt this fucking lover's tryst that they've got going on? Watch him snake one hand up her skirt and see her throw back her head as he puts his mouth on her neck and she wraps one leg and both arms around him?
Fuck that shit. I got the fuck out of there.
# # #
You know, I don't know why Edward's so busted up over this. I mean, yeah, he's in love with her and well, duh, that's been since day one it seems. But he's acting like this is the end of the world and you know it just isn't. You know that this is the intermezzo; that eventually Jasper is going to just move on because really, what's he getting out of this anyway? He could do so much better.
Not that Bella's not great, don't get me wrong. Bella's my friend and I like her and all, but her and Jasper? Not a good fit. In fact, I can't think of one single girl that I've ever met who might be good enough for him.
Him with the slow drawl and blonde hair and eyes that are brown and gold and amber. Him playing fucking Sweet Home Alabama on his stereo as he pulls onto campus. Lynyrd fucking Skynyrd. Like he's gotta remind us all that he's from the south. And that hippy hair. Which is actually pretty adorable on him, you know. And at least it's always clean. Soft and shiny.
So when Edward came charging down that staircase like someone shot his puppy and he saw me and grabbed my wrist well I just went with it. I mean, who ever sees Edward Cullen looking like anything other than cool? And we get into his car and he starts driving and away we go and we're halfway to Seattle before he finally pulls over and turns off the stereo which is good because that stuff was just making my head ache and he looks over at me and says did you know?
Did I know what I ask and that's when he tells me, but he says it like I've got some kind of vested interest in this. Like it's supposed to matter to me like it does to him, but I go along and I listen to him and I realize that this boy still doesn't know he's in love with Bella. Can you imagine being so un-self-aware? So I tell him that it's okay and that everything will be okay and he doesn't believe me, I can see it, but he turns the car around anyway and then you know what? He moped for a solid week. I mean, ditched school left and right, didn't attend a single party and when Lauren all out offered to blow him he didn't take her up on it. Now that is not the Edward that I know and love.
And I don't know what he said to Jasper, if he ever did. It was weird between them for a while but then it wasn't anymore and now Bella mostly sits on Jasper's lap and she's wearing his clothes all over the place and he's letting her. He's letting her wear his favorites and the fragile ones and she tilts her head up at him and he brushes her face with his smile and it's harder to look at than I thought it would be.
So when Edward came to me last night and says "we have to talk," well I'm all ears because this whole thing has gone on too long, you know? If we don't interrupt this intermezzo, it's going to become the whole damned show. And while I might not be ready for it all yet, the least I can do is help Edward get there. Because that boy is a mess. But at least he sees it now. At least he realizes that he loves her. He's still going to try like hell to fuck it all up, because he's Edward and god forbid he should be less that shallow and brooding when anyone can see it, but at least he wants to try. So I've got to help him and I will.
I hope that Jasper and Bella are ready. Because ready or not, here we come.