I Never Meant to Start a War

Jasper Hale was a force that many were intimidated to reckon with. As the quietest of the adopted family, he faded into the background of the picture of perfection, but was still outlined by a ray of gold. He was of the two single of the group, him and Alice Cullen, and word is that they once dated, but broke up soon before coming here for mysterious reasons. I hardly ever believed the gossip, but lately I have come to observe rather than judge.

They interacted as though they held no malice, but when they smiled to one another it held a secret that words could never explain. They moved in tune to the other, but held back, because of that same unspoken secret, and he regarded her with respect, unlike the pure ignoring attitude he seemed to give the perfect blonde that was his twin. They could share a look and smile like they had just uttered an inside joke.

I found myself comparing my looks to that of Alice Cullen.

Jasper and I had interacted throughout the day, and not only did we have English Literature together, but Psych as well, a class thought to have been one of the hardest the school offered. When he sat down beside me, he had shot me a smirk like he was proving he was right in his assumption of my intelligence. We shared the same lunch as well, which was when I made all of my observations on him and his adopted sister, and we both spoke near fluent Spanish, which we learned when he filed in after me for the highest level of Spanish our small school offered.

My first day of junior year had to have been the most exhausting day of my entire high school experience.

Once I set my backpack on the edge of my bed, I turned to the mirror perched on the wall to my left, looking long and hard. Did Alice Cullen and I hold similarities? Some. We both had ink black hair, though she had hers cut in a spiky style and mine hung down in natural curls. Although I wasn’t nearly as short as her, I wasn’t taller than many, standing at an uncertain five foot one or two, so I had the same small structure. I had found Jasper Hale’s type, and my blood boiled when I realized that I was it.

~*~

The second day of school went much like the first, and the third, and the fourth, until the end of August, almost one month since the first day, when the bond I created with Jasper Hale was too strong to ignore. I felt tied to this boy—the one I knew next to none about despite several months of friendship. Despite our sudden closeness, I didn’t feel the need to change myself for him; I still didn’t wear makeup and I still wore black or navy blue skinny jeans with various long sleeved shirts, didn’t change my hair style, didn’t change the way I held myself, just let myself be normal. And I prided myself for it.

I still don’t quite know how I ended up here, in a car with Jasper Hale pulled over on the outskirts of town, where the grand view was an endless green of the forest. We sat in a comfortable silence, my eyes closed and my face inclined in his direction, my breathing slow and steady. He sat in silence beside me, but I had a feeling that he was watching me carefully, almost as if he was expecting me to change my mind and ask him to take me home.

A feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that would be the absolute last thing that I would ask for.

The atmosphere had changed for us lately, and I have yet to distinguish if it was for the better. The sparks flew a little more easily than they once had, but I understood that, because time progressed feelings like that. But I still didn’t quite understand the feelings coursing through my being as I sat with Jasper as he looked to me, feeling something entire new in this atmosphere that I would have once called casual. There was a tension ringing in the background that I had never noticed.

And it didn’t help when I spoke.

“Why do I always feel as though you’re keeping something from me?” I asked him in a whisper, opening my eyes, and watching as his ears picked up the sound and his expression changed to a slight frown. I registered it with a small amount of dismay. He had told me everything that I had wanted to know in that one small facial movement.

His hand moved as if he was going to touch me, but then stopped in midair as if he had hit an invisible barrier. He moved it back to his body as he whispered, “Because we all have our secrets, Marie.”

I had never felt fond of my name until I heard his velvet voice utter it. Then, it didn’t feel as terrible as I once thought it was.

I fully turned to face him. “Who are you, Jasper Hale?”

“You know me.”

“Only skin deep,” I countered, leaning a little closer. He shifted unknowingly closer, almost as though we had a magnetic pull. My heartbeat quickened. He acted as though he heard it, but wasn’t sure why. I rested assured that he didn’t know that I was slowly falling for him.

But despite the questioning thoughts that must be circulating his mind, he smiled at me, and in that smile held a charm that I couldn’t help but to feel vulnerable toward. So when he asked me, “Do you want to know more?”, I didn’t hesitate before I said, “Yes.”

~*~

It felt like we were in a deathly tango for a short while, and I suppose I never really knew why. I never knew what he was or what he was capable of doing, and what he had done, and what he can still do so easily. There was something looming behind the careful construction of his façade but I had yet to place my finger on its exact origin—I just knew that it was the secret that could either tear us down or make us strong enough to conquer any obstacle. And I wanted to know.

I usually had nightmares when I slept, so I wasn’t surprised to find myself trapped in one that night. The expectation didn’t lighten the effect, though.

I was sitting on my couch in the living room, my face buried in my hands as I tried to breathe, almost as though I was hyperventilating over something. I heard the constant beat of soft footsteps brushing past behind me, a soft sigh, and an overpowering feeling that I would be able to pick up anywhere. I lifted my head to find Jasper Hale standing over me, much taller, with a strange look on his face.

“I can’t lose you,” he told me with a desperateness in his voice that almost broke my heart. But I couldn’t say yes to him, not now. Not when everything was beginning to make sense. But could I push this angel away?

“Jasper.”

“Marie, please.” He moved so that he was kneeling in front of me, his unnerving golden eyes staring into mine and creating a new insecurity over me. I felt my cheeks turn red by just the proximity. “You have to listen to me! I swear I will never hurt you!”

“But you might!”

“I will never!” he cried, sounding so hurt. I didn’t reach out to him because I knew what he was. In that dream, I knew that secret, and that was what was causing me to hurt him like this, because of whatever it was he was terrified to tell me. I guess he was right in his assumptions. My conscience was even telling me to run.

His hand were so cold like his skin always was as he took my hands in his, gripping tightly with the strength of a man who was losing hope in everything.

“Marie!” he called out to me, and I realized I was going away, fading into nothing, going to someplace I didn’t know where. He watched me go with those tear-filled eyes, too numb to realize my hands were slipping from his. “Marie!” He was screaming my name, but I couldn’t hear him. Everything was silence. And he was disappearing.

I woke up as cold as ice.