This is the story of Jack and Rose, and no, they have no relations to the Titanic I'll have you know. A cold snowy night in October is met with tragedy when a drunk driver plows into Rose's car, a nineteen year old on her way home to see her family...
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~Jack
I left Oregon State University The evening of the 21st, the Wednesday before thanksgiving. Classes let out early for break but we had football practice that afternoon. I knew my drive would be long. about ten hours, but I had to find some way to distract myself. Every second I had to let my brain wonder, it always landed on the thought of her. Rosalie. She was haunting my brain every moment of every day since the morning she died.
My roommate pestered me the previous days about the depressed mood I was in, but I couldn't find it in me to tell him. That would just mean I'd have to come to terms with it. That it wasn't just a bad dream or even a lie...that it actually happened...that she was actually gone.
Rose and I had a mixed relationship over the years. When we were young, like elementary school age, we had a very non-existent relationship. We went to the same school, well, everyone in Whitefish went to the same school, but we weren't in the same grade. I was two grades above her, even though we really didn't have that far between us age wise.
At that point in her life, all was right with the world. Things were good at home, her parents were on good terms with each other at least. Money was never easy for them, but that seemed to be about it when it came to their family drama. When she hit middle school, 6th grade, everything just started going downhill. Not only did her family live just a few houses down, but our parents ran in the same social circles. We had known the Greymores my entire life. This meant that Rose had a safe place to call home when things got bad.
Her father filed for a divorce which took over two years to get anywhere. Over this two year gap, her and I grew closer. When someone's practically living with you for years, you tend to build a relationship. We stayed close until I left for college...and then...well...life happened. We didn't stay connected, and then she went on with her own life. We just drifted apart over time.
This disconnection time didn't make any difference with how I felt about her though. I used to only ever see her as a sister...that was until I actually started seeing girls as more than just cootie carrying annoyances that were gross. When my hormone switch finally flipped, so did my feelings for her...
I knew that there would never be anything between us. I watched as she grew into a woman. She was gorgeous, freakishly smart, talented, and the kindest human being I had ever met. Naturally, guys were all over her. She had serious relationships for most of high school. All of them with guys that had a real future. They all had plans to go into med school, or law school, whatever space school is called. The only thing I wanted in life was to be out of school. I went to college to play football, which was stupid because I didn't, and still don't want to go pro. That was my father's choice, not mine. But I liked the party side of things.
She on the other hand got a full-ride to Stanford with dreams of becoming the world's greatest social worker. I guess all the custody mess she had to go through at home had something good come out of it. But I knew that her future didn't include me. That's why I never pursued her...and I always knew that she could never see me as anything more than a dead-beat brother.
