What about Alice? Contest
Disclaimer: All recognizeable characters are property of Stephenie Meyer. No infringement intended.
Summary: Relying only on her visions of the future, Alice wonders if today will be the day she finally meets her soulmate. Canon, Alice/Jasper.
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Is today the day?
I've seen the dress I'll wear on that day, looked down at my lap and traced the little flowers on the fabric. But I can't wear the same dress every day without attracting attention – and I attract plenty of attention as it is, a pretty young girl alone in the diner day after day, nursing a milkshake for exactly one hour every afternoon.
Seeing the future has a way of changing the present. Am I wearing the dress in the vision because I chose to wear the dress that day? Or did I – will I – choose to wear the dress that day because of the vision?
If today I decide to wear a different dress, does the vision change? If it doesn't, does that mean today isn't the day?
Please, please be today. I've been alone so long.
I decide to wear the dress today. It's been three days since I last wore it, and it already carries with it the good associations of a thing worn during a monumentous event. This is the dress I wore when I met my soul mate. Will wear when I meet him. Someday.
If it's sunny out, should I not go? It's raining when he opens the door to the diner – and why would he be out in the sunshine? Should I risk the sunlight, just in case he does?
It's a silly question, because after months of this routine, I know I will go rain or shine. I have hats and long sleeves and little white gloves to protect me until I get to the diner. I can't not go. The idea that this could be the day is just too seductive.
But I concentrate and summon up the vision anyway, to see if he is similarly covered to keep away the sunlight. It's an excuse, really. I just want to see his face again.
How can you miss a person you've never met? How can you ache from absence, when presence doesn't precede it?
There are rain drops caught in his blond curls, and his eyes are dark and wide. Feather texture of teeth-shaped scars overlaid on pale skin. How did he get the scars? I can't see before, only ahead. I wish I could see before, wish I could know what he'd been through, why he stares at me in apprehension as I walk towards him.
I concentrate. He isn't wearing a hat, and his neck is bare. He must have been fairly certain that it wouldn't be sunny. Will be fairly certain.
I can't make today's future focus, with his face swimming before my eyes, so I look out the window like a normal person – normal vampire – and smile at the heavy cloud cover. I can leave the hat and gloves home today. But I slip a cardigan over my shoulders and grab an umbrella, to blend in with the humans. Keys, handbag, my cutest heels, and I'm out the door.
I stare at faces as I walk, I sniff the breeze. If today is the day, would I be able to smell him? How far away could I smell another vampire? I wonder if I could smell into the future, and I am dizzy.
My visions don't have scents. What does he smell like, this man I will build my life around? His face was the first thing I saw when I woke up, alone in the darkness. The visions of the life we will have have led me every step of the way. It seems wrong that I know every scar by heart, but I don't yet know his scent.
The bell over the door rings as I enter the diner. I walk straight to my normal seat – the high stool at the counter closest to the door.
"Hello Miss Alice," Jimmy says, smiling at me. "Back again, eh? The usual?"
"Yes, please," I say, smiling back without showing my teeth. The usual is a vanilla milkshake without a cherry. The milkshake is easier to throw up later without the cherry, and I can't very well sit in a diner every day and not eat anything. People would talk!
Jimmy brings my milkshake. I sip slowly, rolling the texture like mud over my tongue. Jimmy thinks I drink it slowly so I won't get a cold-headache. He doesn't know that the milkshake doesn't feel cold to me. He would be horrified to learn that he smells much more appetizing than the milkshake ever could.
I look at the clock on the wall, and compare it to the one in my vision. Four minutes to go. The shadows are right today, and the realization sends electricity down my spine.
I sip my milkshake. I trace the flowers printed on the fabric of my dress. I wait. I hope, I hope.
The bell over the door rings. I turn. Smile. Slide off the chair.
Today is the day.