Revved Up Soul

Chapter 19

Jasmine

"How're you feeling?" She asked, driving down Miles avenue, a couple of fat, wet drops hitting the glass screen of her Rav4.

"You can stop asking now," Augustus barked over the phone, she'd been checking up on him along with Jessica throughout the day – this was the third time that Jasmine had broken her promise to leave him be.

"Last time I swear," she convinced herself that she meant the words leaving her lips. "It just really scared me," she confided.

Silence spoke loudly as to how her frentor (friend and mentor) was feeling. "Puh-lease don't make me say sorry again Hazelnut, because, it, it, it's just becoming so old hat I could actually just wear it at this point. I seriously could."

Jasmine laughed before easing into an S turn, approaching Alejandra's residence. "Come on," she said, trying to contain her laughter. "This is serious, I'm not going to stop bugging you – now tell me again you're not gonna use tonight or I'll come over there myself." She had insisted that she stay at his place tonight, but his stubbornness was legendary – so she settled for having him call every hour, on the hour.

"I, Augustus Jameson Lark, promise yadda yadda yadda," he drifted off and a series of fake snores came through the line. "I promise I'm not going to," he affirmed seriously now, "I'm not going to use tonight or in the morning. That's it, that'ss it that'ss it that'ss it."

She smoothly went up to Alejandra's driveway and parked just outside the garage, a sigh smooth as smoke escaping her. Jasmine felt a finger dig against her heart, "I'd feel a lot more comfortable if you would tell m—"

"No. Don't make me say it again," Augustus' voice was hard now, cold as arctic night..

"Alright," she surrendered, "just . . . call me, if you need me, okay?"

A couple of seconds passed as the man seemed to chew on the thought, finally responding, "Okay."

The two said their goodbyes and Jasmine produced the white binder of CD's she had previously burned. It was dark out, but Alejandra's foster parents had a nice place – just as nice and samey as all the other ticky tacky houses, but nice none the less. With a chain of delicate raps against the pristine white front door, she waited patiently for Alejandra's parents to answer.

***

Peeking her head inside of Alejandra's door, Jasmine saw the sun burnished girl drawing on her bed – a pair of earbuds attached to her. Jasmine stepped inside, closing the door behind her and smiling when the young girl finally noticed her.

Practically ripping off her headphones, Alejandra called out her name and let the sketch book fall onto her milk white duvet. "You weren't here last week!" She exclaimed in a pout, throwing her arms around Jasmine's thin neck.

"I know, I know," she replied, "I know that I say I'm never too busy," Jasmine wheedled. "But damn if life doesn't try it's hardest," she bent down ever so slightly, coiling her arms around the lithe young girl; she held onto the end of the white binder. Alejandra was only sixteen but she was a true wildcat, even more than Jasmine was at the girl's age. Her silky black hair was done into a pony tail.

"You can't be busy," she said, "just tell me who the man is in your life already, I'll clear the misunderstanding," she cracked her knuckles, making them pop loudly. "You got more music?" She asked. Looking into Alejandra's dark and stormy eyes reminded Jasmine of her own youth; they were a brown as bark with flecks of blue, like lavish lapis lazuli's lost in glinting soil.

"There is no man," Jasmine insisted, rolled her eyes and padded over to the girl's bed; she threw the binder down and planted her butt on the soft duvet. There wasn't much left, Jasmine mused, scanning the posters on Alejandra's wall; The Who, Lacuna Coil, Nightwish and NiN. Perhaps the one and only clue that remained within the confines of the young girl's 'prison' was the beautiful, untouched acoustic tucked away in the corner.