Guardian × Edward Cullen

twelve | plans

CLARA FOUND HERSELF UNBELIEVABLY RESTLESS as the dreaded day grew closer and closer. She was desperate to find something to do to keep herself occupied, trying not to think about the potentially-deadly battle approaching. Sophia had apparently had the same idea, for she was off to the rez with Paul. Asher was home, but she found that the longer she sat at the house the wilder her thoughts ran.

And so the blonde currently sat out on the bleachers of the rarely-used football field at Forks High, spending her free time in silence because she had nothing else to do. Clara had dug through her bag in search of a book to read, but upon discovering she only had Asher's copy of War & Peace, abandoned that idea. She didn't exactly enjoy the idea of reading about battles and death, considering what was to come.

Instead, she simply laid back on the bleacher bench and stared up at the sky. For once, it wasn't raining, but the gray clouds enveloping the atmospheres above Forks seemed to be a permanent thing for the small town. Clara had been there for a few months now, and could only recall two sunny days throughout the entire time.

She supposed it didn't really matter, in the end. After all, they weren't there for the weather.

"Hey." Clara turned her head to the side at the sudden voice. She had been so preoccupied with her thoughts that she hadn't heard Jasper approaching. "What are you doing out here?" He asked, gracefully climbing up the bleachers to sit next to her as she sat up.

"Had to get out of the house," she explained. "Did Alice tell you I was here?"

Jasper nodded. "Yes. Edward wanted to come check on you, but she saw that it would have ended in an argument. So I decided to come instead."

Clara ignored his mention of the bronze-haired vampire; she had made a habit of trying not to think about him, even though he always crept into her mind somehow. "Can I ask you something?" She said, glancing at him. Jasper hummed in acknowledgment. "How do you know so much about fighting newborns? I know you obviously have army experience, but there's a difference when it comes to fighting newborns as opposed to humans."

Her childhood best friend was quiet for a very long moment. "I fear that if I tell you," he admitted finally, "you may think poorly of me."

She mustered up a small, genuine smile for him. "Hey. No matter what, you're always going to be that troublesome little boy I met in the fields between our houses, who made me fall in the mud and ruined my favorite dress."

Clara and Jasper both laughed fondly at the memory. They had only been about seven years old at the time,and Clara had run off a bit as her father was gardening. She'd ventured a bit too far along the large field that seemed to span out for miles, and obviously hadn't been expecting to see a boy chasing after a rooster. Apparently Jasper had been trying to clean out the chicken coop, but one had escaped. Clara found herself helping him,but it soon became a game as to who could catch the it first. When the girl had came close to winning, young Jasper pushed her aside to catch the chicken instead. Clara had lost her balance and fell into a large pile of thick mud. When she trudged back home, her father had a good laugh and her mother gave her a good scolding.

But even though the boy had made her stain up her favorite dress—the only one Althea could get her to wear without nagging at her—Clara realized at the end of the day that she had made a friend. And from then on, the two blondes were practically as close as siblings.

"I can't believe you're still holding a grudge over that," Jasper said once their laughter died down.

Clara shrugged, and joked, "Old habits die hard." She paused, the mirth fading from her eyes as she looked at him. "You can tell me, Jaz."