The One that Got Away.

Downtown

A/N: Just a reminder that I do not own anything, the credits go to their rightful owners, but I do own the plot and dear ole Nash. I hope that you all enjoy, So here we go.....

Pulling into the street that led to my dad's, I was surprised to find what awaited my return. Nash was parked right in front of my house sitting on the tailgate of his truck. I could tell before I saw him that he had been into his moonshine stash, it was hidden in his toolbox. Driving around his truck I pulled into the drive. Before getting out to meet my fate I decided to check my face in the rearview mirror. I was stunned. My makeup had been smeared all down my face and my eyes were hidden behind puffy red rims. Taking a deep breath, I opened my car door and got out. When I saw that he had jumped of his truck and was staggering towards me, I closed my car door and waited. But he stopped short of me, propped himself against the front of his truck where his leg rested against the bull bar, and crossed his arms.

Slurring angry words, he asked. "Where you been?"

Before I could give him an answer, he said "No wait, let me guess" holding up his hand that was firmly wrapped around his Mt dew bottle, he pointed at me as he looked over my appearance, "from the looks of you there is only one answer." Pushing himself off the front of the truck and making his way towards me, he threw his bottle over the front of his truck, and a few seconds later it was heard landing in the bed of the truck.

I couldn't look at him anymore guilt was starting to consume me, so looking down I began to shuffle rocks with my sandals, tears slowly began flow once again. As he came within reach of me he placed one hand on the roof of the car and the other on my jaw bringing my face up to meet him. His green eyes were searching my face for answers, and after a few minutes he began to shake his head and turned to look down the street he said. "Oh so you have told him."

I couldn't speak. Hell, I could barely breathe. It never ceased to amaze me how this boy could tell what was wrong just by looking into my eyes; and as he stood in front me, drunk off his ass, it was no different. He read me like I was an open book. He read me the way I read Jake, and I didn't know how to feel about that. As gently as I could, I pulled away from him and looked to the house. The dim, yellow lights shimmering from the kitchen seemed almost hypnotic in a way...but the spell didn't last long, my drunk boyfriend was decidedly getting impatient.

"You goin' answer me, 'ella?" he asked.

Looking down at my feet and then back up at Nash once again "Yea I told him, I mean he needed to know."

Nash turned and slammed his fist into his truck, surprising me. "Why the hell'ya do tha' for 'ella? You stupid?" He said angrily, stumbling back. "Tha' a'int none a his business!"

Picking up one of the larger stones in the drive, I chunked it at him as hard as I could hitting his chest. "You damn idiot. You know better than anyone that he needed to know, in case you freaking forgot it was his baby. You know what you're a dumbass when you're drunk." I said walking so I could take a seat on the tail gate of his truck, my legs were about to give out. Making myself more comfortable I turned and asked "Did my dad get called in?"

He staggered back, and held onto the truck, trying to catch his footing. "The hell d'ya think woman? Does he lo' lik' he's 'ere?" The slurred words were starting to get on my nerves, and I was epically close to ignoring the Georgian from here on out. But after having Nash silent for a good few seconds, I started to get worried. Did he pass out already? I knew he had a tendency to fall asleep while standing (as he'd done before) so now definitely wouldn't be any different.