Oh, Pineapples.

16: Wrinkles

•Cassandra•

The wheels of my burgundy Cadillac Escalade screeched to a louder than necessary halt before the doors of Liberty High School. Dozens of students were scattered all around the parking lot awaiting for what I assumed to be their departure to their respective homes.

Interrupting my thoughts was the reminder of why I was initially at the school Jasmine attended.

A heavy weight of guilt washed over me once again as my mind once again wrapped around the phone call that I had received prior.

"...she's in stable condition as we speak, but I suspect she may have suffered a panic attack..." A scratchy voice, belonging to the principal spoke from the other side of the line.

It hadn't been the first time she had experienced a panic attack; the most recent one took place a few months ago and I'd found a semi permanent solution, or so I thought...

In no time, I had made my way to the spacious four walled room minimally furnished; just multiple doored cabinets, providing a surface for a few common medical appliances and two single beds, one of them neatly made, the other, accommodated by Jasmine, who was currently being attended to who I assumed was the school nurse as she barely noticed me stepping into the room.

Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, hair in a vague resemblance of a bun and her shoulders slumped forward as she played with her hands which were tucked in her lap.

"Oh, God. Jasmine! I heard what happened...are you okay?" I embraced her as my motherly instinct got the best of me.

Of course Jasmine was not my real daughter, in fact we weren't even related the least bit, but from the day Mr Wilson had taken me in, I had found a sense of family in her, as she had in me.

I pulled back from the hug and before she had gotten a chance to answer me, I acknowledged the nurse in front of me, embarrassed that I hadn't realized I had interrupted their conversation.

"I'm sorry, hi–" I stuck my hand out for a handshake, "I'm Jasmine's guardian–Cassandra. Is it anything serious?" I asked as though I didn't know already.

"Cass, stop being dramatic. Oh, my gosh." Jasmine groaned from beside me.

The nurse chuckled briefly, "Of course she'll be alright, it's not uncommon for an anxiety attack during exams season. She just needs some rest, that's all." She took of the surgical gloves she had on.

"You worry too much, there's even wrinkles forming on your face," she grinned as she affectionately wrapped an arm around me, the nurse making her way out the door.

Jasmine faced me as she realized I hadn't laughed at her joke sensing that something was amiss. She'd known me way too long to brush it off.

"Cass? What's wrong?" She suddenly sounded serious.

Sooner or later, I would have had to tell her.

"Jas...I have to tell you something,"

"Okay you're scaring me now." Her eyebrows pinched into a small frown.

"You remember that panic attack you had back in February?" I eased into the difficult conversation we were about to have.

"Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"Well...your therapist, Riley, contacted me after your sessions–she suggested anxiety medication... antidepressant pills I mean."

"And I know how you feel about those pills, Jasmine, but I only wanted you to get better. Youu weren't even willing to admit that what happened years ago didn't traumatize you but sti–" she cut me off with a statement I hadn't expected her to say.

"What do you mean what happened years ago?" She challenged, the few traces of anger starting to show in her eyes.

"Look, that's not important right now okay, just let me finish explaining," she heaved a sigh, what I assumed was permission for me to continue talking. "And well since then...since then I've had to...I mean I decided to get the prescription anyway and crush the dose into your morning coffee and yes, you have every right to be mad at me—but I did what I thought was best for you at the time. When I realized...when I realized you hadn't taken your coffee for the past few days, I expected something like this to happen," I finished, my gaze on the floor terrified of her reaction.

"What you thought was best for me? Let me guess–you and dad talked about this behind my back?" She muttered more to herself than to me.

"Jasmine, look-" was all I said before she dismissed me as I was sure she already knew the answer. What I had done ran deeper than betrayal, this I knew. She hated whatever opinion her father came up with due to his absence and had confided in me so I wasn't a fool as to not understand where her anger came from.

"What you thought was best for me? Jesus Christ, Cassandra, you even told my dad? You know how I feel about my dad! But you know what hurts me the most? The fact that you knew, you know that these same pills that you thought were 'best' for me are the same pills..." her voice thick with disappointment, her bottom lip trembled.

"That killed your mom," I unintentionally completed her sentence, I looked down, tears were starting to form in my own eyes.

"I'm sorry Jasmine, I really am. I don't expect you to forgive me right away," I sniffled, finally looking up at her. She'd wasn't crying anymore, instead she'd had an unreadable expression on her face; as though she was attempting to figure something out until she finally spoke up.

"I'm gonna be at Bryson's for a while. Text me if you need anything," she said coldly.

She didn't want to argue anymore, and I understood that.

****
A/N

Cassandra's pov ladies and gentlemenn haha. so that was a whole lot to unpack huh *wipes sweat off forehead. so this chapter right here was just supposed to show you why Jasmine never really mentions her mother and how much Jasmine really has going on under the surface including the fact that the antidepressant pills she didn't know was taking may have been holding back a harsh past and maybe a harsher reality...?

don't be a silent reader, comment! And vote too please, I would really appreciate it.

pineapples and kisses 🦋
-nicole