Equinox

"And so, like, I definitely don't think that the photographer did me justice-"

"Uh huh," With each notch in the ramble post, I continued to to tilt the small, black communications device away from my unfortunate little right ear.

"Seriously, have you seen how icky the lighting makes my hair look?"

"Uh huh," I glanced at the Fed-Ex box that had scarcely been touched, let alone opened.

"So you do admit that my hair looks gross in that picture?"

"Uh huh," I sighed. I then made the conscious decision to spare my right ear the torture for a little while and lodged my iPhone between my left ear and the corresponding shoulder.

"...EMERSON!" Ouch, I should have just switched to speaker-phone.

"What?" I whined as I tossed my hands up in exasperation. It didn't even matter that my conversation companion couldn't judge the seriousness of my irritation based upon the melodramatics of my gestures. I still gained self-satisfaction from them.

"I don't even know whether to be, like, angrier at the fact that you just insulted me and my luxurious locks--" I snorted at this. Who refers to their own hair as luxurious? "--or at the fact that the reason you insulted me is actually because you haven't been paying attention to me at-freakin'-all! Did you even look at my yearbook picture? I payed fifty bucks so you could critique it, you know!" Jessica Pain-In-The-Ass Stanley, that's who.

"There's a yearbook in there?" I blurted out in surprise. I honestly thought that it was just a bunch of school pictures that narcissistic little Jessica decided to mail me. After all, I'm frequently the victim of Jessica's dire need to reassure herself about her appearance.

"Are you fucking serious right now, Emerson Matilda?"

Ignoring the urge to wince at the use of my horrid middle name, I smirked.

"Whoa~ho~oh, Jessica! Resorting to profanity now, are we?" I taunted.

"T-That's besides the point!" Jessica stuttered, and it didn't take a genius to know how flustered the accusation must have made her.

"Oh, really? Then what is the point, Little Bitch?" I inquired bluntly. Even though I was paying more attention to my little cousin now then I was previously, I still found my thoughts shifting from Jessica's apparent rage to whatever my eyes happened to land on.

First and foremost, I was fixated on what was currently my favorite television show.

"Stop acting like you're the skitch on Awkward." Jessica ordered curtly.

"Sure thing," I shrugged, my gaze drifting back to what was probably the most important thing in my life right now.

On my ancient, and I sincerely mean ancient, (honestly, my laptop is so old and jank that it's hinged together with the adhesive assistance of duct-tape) computer Microsoft Powerpoint was pulled up with what could essentially be considered a blank presentation, if not for the fact that there was a bolded, Times New Roman, size 18 title that read: "An in-depth look on the Confederate Majors of the Civil War" typed across a pure white introductory slide.

Yes, I'm a bit of a History geek, but that's alright. Like Jessica says, geeks are in this year.

Excuse me whilst I resist the urge to vomit.

"Now, promise me that you'll take a look at my picture?" Jessica ordered even if the influx at the end of her demand made it seem as if it were some sort of question.

"Well," I murmured whilst mentally comparing the pros and cons of the situation.

"Well, what? Promise me, Emerson Stanley!" Jessica insisted with a tone of increasing outrage.

"Ugh, fine. Now that I know it's a whole book that doesn't just consist of you[, I find the idea of glancing through it a lot more interesting." I explained in a bored monotone.

"That's cruel, Emmy, really!" Jessica huffed.

"No, it's honesty. That's why you come to me for constructive criticism, right?" I ventured. I reclined back in my computer chair, waiting patiently on her reply.

"Well, yes, but, sometimes I think you're too harsh!" Jessica complained.

"Do you now?" I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah! There's absolutely, like, no way that Mike and Edward's opinions of me could be as bad as yours." Jessica retorted.

There she goes, mentioning those two again. My cousin is one of the only girls in the world foolish enough to be ensnared by the dapper looks of two highschool boys at the same time.

That's probably why she has such shitty luck with keeping up her self-confidence.

"Right, that's why they dig Betty instead of you, right?"

Or maybe it's because they both like the same new girl rather than darling little Jessica.
Betty Swan.

"Her name is Bella, you jerk."

Betty, Bella, same difference.

The mention of her still graced me with the sound my ears most wanted to hear:

The dialtone.

"Thank Jesus," I exhaled slowly, sinking down into the black cushions of my seat.

I nudged the ground with my big toe just enough to send me sluggishly swirling about in my chair until it came to a long-awaited stop and my eyes landed on something stupid and time consuming.

"Fuck, I guess I could give it a look," I muttered.

It was not often that I decided to be a pansy and give in to Jessica's demands, but, you know, what can I say? I'm a pushover.

Before reaching for the box, I made a quick grab for my spectrum of sharpies.

Mwah-fucking-hah.



Jessica's yearbook photo really wasn't that bad

Although I must admit, she looks much better with green hair.

Kinda like the girl next to her looks better with a inky black grin.

I certainly hope that Isabella Swan isn't only capable of making a -_- face, because if you consider the fact that that's what she looks like in the yearbook...well, it's pretty likely.

Vandalizing her face will hopefully make up for the additions I made to Jessica's face, if she ever stumbles upon it. I don't plan on that happening, though.

I was highly prepared to draw a unibrow on some dweeb named Eric Yorkie before I realized something.

This nefarious little activity of mine probably makes me seem super immature.

I promise I'm not really like that, though. Seriously, I'm twenty-three.

And I'm an aspiring historian, if you couldn't tell by the procrastinated powerpoint.

Speaking of which, I've been working on it in between my marker endeavors.

I'm currently fascinated by this major that fought and survived in a battle extremely close to home.

The Battle of Perryville, conveniently located nearby my quaint hometown of Whatthefuck, Kentucky. Hah! Like I'd actually tell you the name of such a shitty place.

Anyway, the Major's name was Jasper.
He's one of the main highlights of my little presentation strictly because he's such a looker, even if he was also a man of many notable achievements. Jasper Whitlock. Mmm~.

It's really unfortunate that the current southern gentlemen that live around here don't look a thing like him, furthermore they probably aren't as educated what with their dip obsessions and their "blow-soot!" aspirations. Don't.even.ask.

"Major Whitlock was a brave, intelligent man noted for numerous successful endeavors in the American Civil War. Hailing from Texas, Jasper Whitlock..." - was fucking beautiful.

I sighed, desperately needing to tear my attention away from the picturesque Texas babe so that I wouldn't start doing something as pathetic as fantasizing about him.

I opted for returning my attention back to Jessica's yearbook. Maybe I could find some equally delicious males in attendance at Forks High School. But seeing as how I'm not a cougar, well, it's not particularly likely.

Eric finally got that unibrow that I always knew he was destined to have, and just for kicks, I made it orange. Totally didn't blend well with his onix colored asian locks, but, go figure.

After accomplishing this, I realized that I had quickly tormented my way through the smiling images of students with surnames Z-S. Now I found my gaze trailing up each row.

The first name I actually recognized was Mike Newton.

"Tch, tool," I snarled, coloring in all of his pristine little teeth.

Jessica may have annoyed the piss out of me, but this guy was generally the reason behind it.

Honestly, Isabella Swan looks like a sulky little bitch, so I don't understand why on Earth he would favor her over my cousin.

"Maybe if Jess was rendered incapable of speech..." I mused with a wry smirk.

Then maybe Mike and Edward would learn to fancy her.

Edward...hm, I can derange his face as well. Some retribution for Jessica's poor unrequited infatuation, you know?

My orbs rapidly ran up each row of students - not that there were a lot of them, Forks has a tiny populace, after all - but stopped before I could reach this Edward dude.

"That's odd..." I squinted, unsure of what I was seeing.

Jasper Hale.

My gaze flickered back to my laptop screen.

Jasper Whitlock.

To the yearbook.

Jasper Hale.

To the laptop.

Major Jasper Whitlock.

. . .

Is this a coincidence?

The same chiseled features that looked as if they belonged to a nonexistent Abercrombie & Finch God....

The same light, shiny hair. . .

Eyes that seem to stare into your very soul...

I think not.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words.

Well, for this one I could only think of three:

"What.the.fuck?"