Perspicuous (J.HALE)

17

"Press that one," a quiet voice said, pointing to one of the buttons.

I looked up to see the blonde server standing next to me, a tray on his arm. I pressed the button.

"Then this one," he instructed. "That one, that one, and then that one."

I did as he said, attempting to make a mental note of the order, and the till made a triumphant noise, a slim ticket popping out of a slot on the top.

"Oh," I said. "Thank you."

"No problem."

I leaned through the window into the kitchen and stuck the ticket on the wall for the cooks, before turning back to the man at the counter. I was a little flustered as I poured his coffee, spilling a little over the side of the cup. He mumbled under his breath at me, but I mopped it up and moved on, taking the coffee pot to do a circle of the room.

Most of the other diners were nice to me. The early morning crowd was moody truckers and old ladies, and the novelty of my unknown face made the induction hectic, but easier. I wiped tables and collected old plates and glasses, taking them in a large bucket into the kitchen to the pot wash. None of the cooks paid me much attention, but they all let out whooping laughs when I dropped and smashed a plate. It seemed it was tradition for new employees to break something on their first shift—if they didn't, it was considered bad luck. The nervous blonde girl gave me a little smile when I came out of the kitchen, red-faced, and I started to relax.

"You're related to Meg Clarke, aren't you?"

I looked up from the table I was wiping down, the blonde server watching me as he piled empty plates on top of each other.

"Yeah," I said, wary. "She's my aunt."

"She comes in here a lot," he said in explanation. "Tips well."

I smiled a little.

"Hasn't been in in a while, though."

I swallowed.

Luckily, I was drawn away from him when a customer beckoned for more coffee. I jogged around the counter and grabbed the pot, filling up the woman's cup and offering her a smile. She was dressed smartly, and her hair was done, and she dismissed me with a waft of her hand.

"Do we know each other?"

I bristled slightly at how close to me he sounded, turning around slowly to see him standing by the coffee machine. "I don't think so."

"I recognise you from somewhere," he said. "I'm trying to figure it out."

"I just moved here," I said. "And I don't even know your name."

"Will," he said. "Will McIntyre."

I paused a moment.

McIntyre. I'd heard, or seen, that name somewhere before.

"Nope," I said, shrugging. "Sorry. Doesn't ring a bell."

He studied my eyes as if he could smell the mistruth. "Okay. My mistake."

~~~

"How was it?" Jasper asked.

I collapsed against the kitchen counter, resting my forehead against the cool marble and letting out a long groan. He chuckled and dried his hands, leaving the sink full of dishwater and clean bottles draining on the side, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"You can sleep now," he said, kissing my shoulder.

"Sleep!" I laughed. "Good joke. Nice one."

"You have round the clock babysitters in this house," he said. "Sleep is an option."

"My son will forget what I look like if I keep passing him off to other people," I said, straightening up. I leaned back into his chest and let out a sigh. "How's your morning been? Any more contact with Edward?"

He stiffened slightly. "They landed early this morning. They should be here soon."

I turned around so I could face him. "It's okay if you're scared, you know."

"I know," he said, a little too quickly.

I gave him a small, knowing smile.

"I just..." He sighed. "If she dies, Edward will..."

I frowned. "What?"

He pressed his lips together and his brow wrinkled in conflict. I waited.

"When we had to leave Forks," he said quietly, "after Bella's birthday, Alice had a vision. Of Bella jumping off a cliff."

My heart faltered.

"She was just cliff-jumping," he clarified, "but Alice didn't know that until she went back to Forks and saw her alive. The werewolves blur her sight, and Bella had been spending a lot of time with them in our absence."

I swallowed, mouth dry.

"Rosalie told Edward what Alice had seen," Jasper said quietly. "He thought Bella was dead, and so he went to Italy, to the Volturi."

I blinked at him. "The what?"

"The Volturi are some of the oldest surviving vampires," he said. "They're the, sort of, royal family of our species. They make and enforce the rules, and if one of us were to expose ourselves to humans..." He took a breath. "...it would be their duty to execute the offending party."

"Right..." I said slowly.

Jasper's eyes flashed. "Edward was going to make a scene at a human festival so that they'd have no choice but to kill him."

I blinked.

"If Bella dies, I have no doubt that Edward will too."

There was a moment of stillness.

I blew out my cheeks and scratched the bridge of my nose.

"I know, it's..." He searched for the words. "It's not the healthiest, but it's the way he is. He's always been like that."

"It's fucking Shakespearian, that's what it is," I mumbled.

As much as Edward and I had never really clicked, I didn't want him to die. The idea that he would end his own life if he lost Bella was alien to me, although I wasn't surprised. Their relationship had always been the be-all-and-end-all type, but it was beginning to border on lunacy.

"I care about my brother," Jasper said softly. "And I care about Bella, too. It's just all..."

I took his hand in mine and brought it to my lips, placing a light kiss on his knuckles.

There was a clatter from the living room.

"They're here!"