It was the first time he really got drunk.

And since he was drunk, all he could do was stare at Jasper. Jasper, who never seemed to say much but was always surrounded by admirers. Jasper, who looked golden in the shadow and drizzle of the camp fire flames. Jasper, whose eyes cast spells upon him with every glance. Jasper, about whom Edward thought as he touched himself in silent of the night.

Edward hatedit. He wanted to make it stop.

He realized later that things could have been very different that night. If Jasper had sat near him, who knows what Edward would have done? But it wasn’t Jasper that touched him.