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Asher's POV

It was two months into the new year. 1960. The beginning of a new decade. The start of a new year and I was alone. Or at least I felt like I was alone. I had no one. My parents had died in the summer of 1959, in a car accident.

My older brother sent me away to live with my aunt and uncle for the summer while he had gotten himself situated in our small town of Oakridge, Oregon. He had gotten himself a job as a mechanic at our local body shop.

I was finally back home after spending 5 full months with my aunt and uncle. I was more than happy when I was able to walk into my childhood home and lay in my own bed instead of on the floor of our aunt's sewing room.

Gary didn't seem all that excited at my return but if he had any problems, he didn't say anything. That was the difference between my brother and I. If I had an issue I was normally the one to bring it up and either fight it out or talk it out. My brother was more of the suffer in silence type.

Don't get me wrong. I loved my brother. But he and I had never been close. He was the spitting image of our father. He hated anything that wasn't planned an organized. He hated rebellion. Everything to him had to be by the book.

I was never one to follow rules and my brother hated that. When I was able to finally get my license the first thing I did was buy a used motorcycle, against my parents orders of course, and the first thing he did was tell my mother and father.

My parents had objections and I had made them several promises before they had returned the used bike and bought me a brand new one of my own. A 1958 Harley Davidson FLH. We hadn't been able to afford it. I knew that. That was why I had tried for just a used one but my parents had told me they would feel better if I at least drove a new one, a better bike.

It was my favorite possession. I felt so free whilst riding. It was like nothing and no one could hurt me when I was driving down the road.

I hadn't touched my bike since my parents died. Every time I had tried to go near it, my heart broke even more at the thought of losing them. It stayed in the garage, covered with a black tarp.

My brother hated me. I knew he did. I was the cause of our parents deaths. He won't admit it but it was what he thought. They had been on their way to the county jail to pick me up for racing when they crashed.

It was my fault. He knew it and I knew it. He won't admit it, but he knew I knew. Which was why I was just waiting to turn 18 so that when the time came, I would be able to just leave and never look back. I would be away from Gary and I could just begin again.

"Asher," Gary's voice rang through the car, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned my head to look at him, raising a single eyebrow.

"We're here," he said simply, glancing out the window and away from me. I looked out the window and up at the building in front of us. Oakridge High School. The only public school in Oakridge. North siders and South siders attended this school.

Being a south sider wasn't all that great. There weren't many of us who attended school and those of us who did were usually ridiculed. We were treated as a minority because we didn't have the flashy cars, or the fancy clothes. We had what we had and we dealt with that.

I sighed as I welcomed another year of my own personal hell. I opened the door to my brother's car and climbed out of it, grabbing my leather jacket.

"Remember, I'm not picking you up after. I have to work so you'll have to walk home," Gary said.

"Okay," I said, looking at my brother, nodding my head once.

Fire and Ice {Rosalie Hale} Where stories live. Discover now