She was as crisp as the air in May and he was as stifling as an early August afternoon. The names Whitley Mae Gilbert and August Alsina seemed to be ordained to them by God. Complete polar oppositions defined by their nature, way on the farthest en...
A SAFE SUMMARY FOR THOSE WHO SKIPPED PART OF THE LAST CHAPTER:
August's mother Sheila called August to check on him at the beginning of the week. During this conversation, he found out his stepdad Rodney had been using drugs more heavily which resulted in serious arguments between him and August's mother. August felt he needed to be back in New Orleans to protect his mother and convince her to leave his stepdad, so that's exactly what he did. Things had been rough and escalating between Sheila and Rodney since August arrived, and so did the tension between August and Rodney.
One morning, August awoke to loud banging which prompted him to go outside only to see Rodney taking things from Sheila's home and putting them into his truck to sell for drugs. One of those items was August's laptop. August immediately got defensive especially after witnessing what Rodney did to his mother. The two began fighting, which later led to Rodney getting shot in the arm by August. Sadly, the commotion woke August's nieces, so they saw everything. However, they were eerily unfazed by it. _______________________________
"One unread, do you wanna get away from here... and when?" -Amber Olivier
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August stirred around in his sleep, unable to remain in the REM stage for longer than two hours at a time. He peered over at the clock which read 4:26 a.m. and shook his head. It would be seven in the morning before he'd be able to fall back asleep, and by that time he'd have to begin preparing to take his nieces to school. August let out a frustrated sigh and reached for his phone off of the nightstand, thinking that maybe a social media could bore him back into a slumber; however, a notification on his lock screen left a dent in his plans. There was a text from Whitley.
Whitley had been texting August periodically to check in on him, but every text went without a reply. August read all of them, though. He hated leaving Whitley high and dry, but he could never bring himself to pick up the phone just for her to ask the one question he'd been trying to avoid: "what's wrong?". This particular text, however, was not a wellness check. It was a text plainly stating Whitley's intent to "fall back".
August figured that amidst his hiatus, Whitley would jump to conclusions and distance herself from him, especially given the fact he never attempted to fix the situation by simply letting her know he was still alive at the very least. Instead, he waited until that Friday morning at 4:28 a.m. to reach out to Whitley through a FaceTime call. August didn't expect Whitley to answer at such an ungodly hour. Quite frankly, he still wasn't in the mood to talk. He figured the call would go unanswered, but at least the missed call notification would indicate to her that August was in fact still breathing and thinking of her.
However, contrary to how august thought the situation would pan out, the FaceTime call connected revealing a semi-asleep Whitley bundled under the covers. The moonlight illuminated her dark skin and created a small twinkle in her squinted eyes. Her curls lay wildly on her pillow, no longer in the messy bun she put it in before bed.
"So, your phone does work," Whitley said groggily.
"Yeah, I'm sorry Whit. Things just been kinda crazy lately, but that ain't no excuse. I still coulda' reached out ta' you, so I apologize," August replied, laying back down on his bed.
"Mmkay," Whitley said as she readjusted herself in bed and closed her eyes, "what are you doing up so late? Couldn't stop thinking about me?"
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