by Lari Smythe
Chapter 5 Izzy
I lay next to Jason, watching him sleep as the harsh, neon glare of the vacancy sign pulsed through the closed drapes. Outside—on the interstate—traffic was almost nonexistent except for the occasional rasp of a Jake Brake as one of the all-night truckers decelerated down the hill. Jason was on his back now; his sculpted, bare chest out from under the covers tested my resolve. Even so, I risked a shallow breath. I wasn't disappointed, his scent was every bit as spectacular as I expected. It was odd being back out on the road with him. So much had happened, so quickly, that it was hard to fathom.
A decelerating eighteen-wheeler rattled the window. "You shouldn't be here," I whispered.
"What?" Jason mumbled.
"Shhhh, go back to sleep," I soothed, stroking his chest. His heartbeat pounded against my fingertips and beyond that, the steady ebb and flow of air though his lungs. He was so human—so everything I wasn't.
I thought back to the image of Jason's Mom on the back porch when we pulled away less than twenty-four hours ago. She'd been my biggest fan when she thought I was good for Jason—even let him go traipsing across the country to find me, but it was clear from her expression that things had changed. Despite—no maybe because of the whole abandoned teenager thing, she no longer saw me as a positive. Jason stirred when I removed my hand from his chest, but I had no choice, the fire—his fire was consuming. The sign outside pulsed again illuminating the room momentarily in crimson light. Perhaps my skin should be red, like the devil I was. I still hated what I was. I'd learned my change was an act of compassion, not of hate, or unrelenting thirst, but I still didn't know who I was. Sure, Jason had taken me to all the places of my human hometown, shown me pictures and articles, but it was as if they were just a story, not real. Whoever Isabella Newton was, she really did die on that lonely highway with her parents. The family tombstone in Forks was a touching end to her life.
"I'm a Faulkner." Was I? Would Elizabeth have me back? Would Benjamin—Tink or Melanie? I'm not sure I would if our fortunes were reversed. I'd deceived them, but then again, they'd done the same. I still didn't see the purpose to their secrecy, even Bella's explanation—while valid from her perspective—didn't seem adequate to let Elizabeth allow me to waste five years of my existence plotting, planning—searching for the truth. Maybe it was like Jason said, five years was nothing to Elizabeth's one hundred and forty odd years. The thought shook me—I really did have eternity to do whatever I wanted. I glanced down at Jason. He would age, his hopes and dreams change as they should and then one day, he'd be gone and I'd be alone. Could I exist without him? It was impossible. Perhaps my eternity was tied to his human years. So I lay there, watching, as each breath passed like a countdown to the end of our forever.
