Matching Leather Jackets

Back.

Blake drives into the driveway of my home after pulling onto my street. The sound of air flooding into the car from the open windows stops completely when he parks.

I sit up as far as I can in the passenger's side seat so I can take a look around. I mean, after all, it has been weeks.

"You ready?" He asks, throwing me a look of pure agitation. Ever since we left the hospital he's been in a very sour mood. I don't know what I did to annoy him, but he's acting extremely prissy. It's making me angry.

"Give me a second," I say sassily, returning a look of annoyance. I can't help but roll my eyes in addition to my words. My eyes attempt to survey my surrounding outside of the car again.

My motorcycle, shiny and untouched, stands exactly where I left it. The kick-stand looks a little more angled, but maybe my eyes are just deceiving me.

The rest of the yard looks the same as well, even those of the neighbors. I notice that all of the nearby driveways have more cars than usual, but maybe that's because of a holiday or something.

I'm snatched from my thinking when Blake clears his throat, looking at me. He looks grim with the way the light isn't hitting your face. "Are you read-"

"Jesus, Blake. Can you hop off of my back for like two seconds? I just got home, let me familiarize myself with my surroundings. Jeeze," I snap, throwing my left hand over my face.

Judging by the way he stays silent, Blake seems to get the hint that he's being a bother. I feel bad to be yelling at him after taking care if me, but just because he did so doesn't give him the power to act like a freaking princess.

Suddenly, the door on his side of the car slams shut after clicking open for his exit. I can hear the batter of his sneakers slamming against the sidewalk to my front porch.

Is he seriously stomping his feet?

I crack a brief smile and remove my hand from my face. Up ahead, Blake closes the door behind him as I watch. The smile drops from my face.

How am I supposed to climb onto the porch with this cast?

Heaving a sigh, I push the door of the car open and keep hold on it for support when dragging myself out. The top of his mom's car is burning from the constant glare of the sun, causing me to pull my hand away from it when attempting to close the car door behind me.

Bad idea.

The door closes, but I loose my support of the car and end up throwing myself completely off balance.

A shriek escapes from between my teeth as I fall onto the grass beside the driveway pavement.

I hit the grass with an, "Oomph." Surprisingly unscathed, I sit up and dust the dirt from my arms. I peer up at the house from the ground and see Blake's face from behind the thin cloth of the curtains. He's laughing his ass off while I sit here loosing my dignity.

From facing my utter embarrassment, little, hot pricks of tears surface at the edges of my vision. I glare at my cast in frustration. Stupid thing. Thankfully, the tears don't fall. They vanish back into my tear ducts and settle where they belong.

I crawl to the tree in the yard near the picket fense of our neighbors' house and use it to pull myself to my feet.

Take that, dumb ass.

After regaining my balance, I take one choppy step at a time toward my home. It's tiring just trying to make an effort itself. The energy it takes to get all the way to the veranda makes me feel even more exhausted. This exhaustion with the addition of the drowsiness from the meds isn't something that seems to be benefiting me whatsoever.