Revved Up Soul

Chapter Two - Jasmine

Day Three

Gloom and doom, that was the sky today – rain pouring down hard against the rooftop of St.Augustine. Jasmine half sat, half laid, against the concrete slab that enclosed the door leading back into the hospital – the musty air making her nose wrinkle. Some rogue drops of water managed to hit her face every once in a while, thanks to the gusts of wind. They felt cool against her skin.

She looked down at her phone and swiped through some messages, most just automatically generated crap from her provider. Her eyes hung on the two texts that were not junk, one from her boss Augustus Lark, and the other from Alejandra. She happened to have just a little crush on Augustus, even if he always did give her a hard time. Jasmine wondered if maybe some part of him shared a mutual feeling – he was always going on about how she was his 'hazelnut' – not that she ever understood what in the hell that meant.

Trying to mentally block the discomfort, she had a hard time pretending that her feet were not killing her – too many patients today.

Blinking, Jasmine turned her head back towards the dreary scene and tried to ignore the pangs of hunger in her stomach. You don't eat enough, a voice resounded in the back of her mind – but she wanted nothing to do with it. She'd suffered enough when she was a kid, the thought of going back to that phase of her life scared her like hell.

How can you be so cruel? You should have said you were sorry. Jasmine sighed, running a hand through her hair, twirling a couple of thick curls, pulling on them until they snapped back into place. She had seen Luke today, but said nothing – almost certain that he saw her. He didn't say anything either.

Mind wandering now, she thought back to those days so long ago. She could still remember her brother's face like it was just yesterday. Jasmine smiled, that Sunday afternoon the two of them had booked it during second period, going to Gino's splitting an extra-large pizza with all the meat toppings. Marcus dubbed it 'The Meatzilla'. Her mouth began to water, she could practically smell the golden crust with the flakes of garlic – the taste of black peppercorn and salt, of hearty Canadian bacon and fennel laced salzitsa They had made it a tradition since then, much to the chagrin of mother and father; but to them it was sacred, one of their many rituals.

Marcus had a way with words, she mused, something that I'll never have.

But that was the difference between the two. Where Jasmine buried her nose in the library, Marcus would bury something else . . . it was always strange how Miss Garcia gave him such high grades.

Inch by inch, the hole in Jasmine's soul dilated, letting the wind pass freely through her. She thought of his smile again. Those days I can't ever have back . . . the pager in her white coat suddenly buzzed and she sighed harder this time. She tapped the back of her head against the damp concrete slab several times.

Today she wished she had listened to her father all those long days ago.

Day Four

Driving into Hart's Customs and Repairs shop, Jasmine listened to the soothing strums of her romantic guitar playlist. Her last lover had been into this kind of music, and even though she enjoyed it, it reminded her of what was absent in her life – she had sworn that after what had happened, her focus would be on work.

Instead all she could focus on was that asshole Luke.

Ten days of work in a row and now her sort-of-boss Augustus was wheedling to try and get her to come in for a four hour night shift, it just never seemed to end. As she eased her way into the open garage where a couple of mechanics were working on a Honda Accord, she noticed two motorcycles and their respective riders.