All characters in this story are over eighteen years of age.
*****
Its two in the morning and I'm alone in my car. Imagine Dragons is playing on the radio, but it does nothing to stop the tears from stinging my eyes. My heart is pounding in my chest and I can't breathe. My hands curl around the steering hard enough that my knuckles go white.
Deep breathes. Inhale and exhale. I count back from five in my head and try to calm my anxiety. But it doesn't do anything for the spike in the back of my head from the shots I drank with Brett. I thought everything was going perfect. Hell, I thought our night was going to turn into something beautiful. Then she dumped me. Just like that, my fiancé and girlfriend of four years dumped me.
My stomach twists in knots just thinking about it and I blink hard. A lone tear streams down my cheek. I check my phone, but there's no texts. When Brett says she's done with something, she's done. Including me. I've been outside this bar for the past hour trying to collect myself and every time I just about have my put together again after Brett tore me apart, I crumble and the tears come again.
I can't come home to Ainsley like this. She's my twin sister. One look and she'll see the pain in my eyes. Its like some sort of twin telepathy. No matter how hard I'll try to mask it, she'll see my pain and she'll ask questions, questions that I don't want to answer.
I fall back in the driver's seat and sigh. My throat is hoarse and my head is throbbing. Maybe I'll just sleep here tonight and tell Ainsley I slept over at Parker's after what happened with Brett. Hell, I would go Parker's right now if I could, but that bastard is out of town with his girlfriend, and without my best friend, I'm officially alone. There's no one else, but Ainsley.
I thumb through my contacts until I find her number and stop just above it. I chew my lip and go for the one under it, my older sister, Ashley. The phone rings and I pray she'll answer. She's probably at a party right now getting smashed like I should be. But after the fifth ring it goes to voicemail and I give up. I throw my phone into the passenger seat and turn the keys in the ignition. There's no point in trying to hide. Either way, Ainsley will see me eventually and one look, she'll know everything. She's probably in her room right now, watching Endless Love or the Notebook, waiting for me to call in case I need her like I did last month.
I sigh and pull out of the parking lot. Fuck, she's too good for me. Hell, Ainsley is too good for our family. She's too damn innocent to all the bullshit that goes on. I just hope it can stay like that for a little longer before we graduate high school and college starts. One more summer. One more summer like we had when we were younger. That's all I'm asking for before its too late.
I count the streetlights as they pass through the windshield. Thunder booms above in the sky and lighting flashes, sparking the cumulus clouds above in a flicker of bright white before going dark again. Sleet starts to fall and pounds my car. The weatherman said things were going to rough tonight, but he never said anything like this. Not even close.
I switch on my wipers and slow to five miles below the speed limit. I turn into the suburb of Palm Springs in Paradise, Louisiana. Long shadows stretch from the stucco houses lining the curb and give ghastly appeal to the thunderstorm raging above in the heavens.
I think of Ainsley and shudder. She shouldn't be home alone in something like this. There should be someone with her. At that moment, my phone rings and the cabin of my truck is lit up as Ainsley's number flashes on the screen. I lean to the passenger seat and answer.
"Jason?" Ainsley's voice is weak.
"Ans, are you okay?"
She draws a shaky breath. "No. The power went out here. I'm lighting a few candles, but I'm worried. There was a tornado warning being played before everything went dark."
"Are you okay?" My worries over Brett fade to the back of my conscious. Ainsley is all that matters.
"No. I mean kind of. I-" A clap of thunder echoes in the distance. Ainsley screams and I jam on the breaks. "Just, can you come home...please?"
"I'm coming home now. Do you want me to keep talking to you until I get here? I'm almost home."
"Yes," she echoes.
"Well, what are you doing now?"
"Lighting candles."
I laugh. "Don't light too many of them. You'll burn the house down."
I swear I can hear her mocking me on the other side. "Ha-ha. Very funny, mister."
A few moments later, my headlights pierce the downpour and shine on the driveway to the side of our house. Its two stories, tan brown, just like the rest. The lone willow tree outside is wiping under the influence of the wind. The rain is coming down harder now, pounding against the roof of my car. I park next to Ainsley's Jetta in front of the garage and kill the engine.
"I just saw a pair of headlights from the window," Ainsley says. "Is that you?"
"Yeah that's me, Ans. I'll be inside in a second, alright?"
