When Jasper finds an old basswood guitar at a rummage sale, will he rediscover an old passion in himself?
2. Chapter 2
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Edward loved the guitar. I had handed it over reluctantly, and I feared that that reluctance showed, but apparently it hadn’t. I had watched him put the sling over his shoulder and I had felt a pang of jealousy, then quickly shoved it away. I didn’t stay to listen to him run his fingers over the strings, but ducked out the door and headed away from the house.
What was going on? I ran hard, trying to leave things behind that didn’t want to be left behind. That guitar brought back memories of my life before I was became a vampire, before I joined the war, when I was just another teenage boy. Every night was spent on the front porch, winding down the day. The guitar had been my grandfather’s, then mine. I had a talent for it that had skipped over my father, leaving it in my hands.
And oh, yes, I remembered. Faces, names, things that mean more than music, I’ve forgotten them all. But the notes, the sounds, those stay. I spent a long time hearing those old chords, and even longer silencing them. It’s been a long time since they’ve bothered me, but seeing that guitar, picking it up, brought them all back.
I’ve held the belief that what I am now isn’t really me. This desire, this thirst that is the base of our personalities, that is not who I am. The music I had made in my old life is the strongest link I have to my true self. I’ve tried to avoid accepting that. It will be harder now.
I finally slowed, then stopped, inhaling deeply. Turning around, I lowered myself into a runners crouch, dropped the count in my head, and took off. I made it a race, seeing how fast I could get back to the house. It was only to keep my head occupied, but when I blasted by Alice, I hit the brakes, driving a furrow into the dirt.
“Jasper,” she called. A second later she stepped back through the foliage.
I offered a smile and spread my arms. She came into the circle of my embrace warily. Wrapping her arms around my waist, she laid her head on my chest.
“What’s going on Jazz? Tell me, please?”
“It’s nothing Alice,” I lied. “I promise. Just some memories I don’t really want to sift through.”
She hummed contentedly then. I made sure she believed me, so she wasn’t worried anymore. She probably knew what I was doing, but she let it slide. She was my life now, I couldn’t get back what I had, and I didn’t want to.
Together we walked back to the house. Strains of music came through open windows, and my muscles tightened. Alice didn’t seem to notice. I had faced down armies of walking death, felt the sting of a thousand assassination attempts; I wouldn’t allow something so simple as sound to make me quail. Opening the door for Alice, I stepped inside to give Edward an un-needed word of praise.