Surviving the Andersen Brothers

Always On Her Own

Vincent’s point of view

I threw open the door from the garage to the house with such force—I worried for a moment that I might have ruined the wall—but I didn’t really care right now, it wasn't important. Lucas rushed in behind me, pretending to be just as worried as I was.

            “Jasmine?” I called out, making my way to the stairs

            “You just missed her,” Caleb said, appearing at the top of the stairs. “She ran off outside somewhere.”

            I turned to go to the back door when Lucas put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. “She couldn’t have gone far. Give her some time to think, Vince,” Lucas said before I had the chance to say anything.

            “I guess you’re right,” I sighed, sitting down on the stairs.

            Lucas sat down next to me. “I mean… it’s her mom. She should be happy to hear from her, right?” he said.

            I shrugged. “She doesn’t talk to me about her mom unless it involves something she’s telling me about her dad,” I explained.

            “She didn’t look excited when I told her who was on the phone,” Caleb said as he made his way down the stairs to sit a few steps above us. “She looked terrified.”

            I almost laugh to myself thinking of the trivial things Jasmine worries about—Caleb’s presence bringing to mind one of these things. She worried so much over what I thought about her kissing him. Something I knew about the second it happened—I saw it as it happened.

            I smiled at the thought of that night. That was the first time I kissed Jasmine, too, before she kissed Caleb—though ours was purely by accident.

            And she thought I would be jealous.

            I almost laughed again. I’m not the jealous type.

            “I mean, really,” Caleb continued. His words pulled me back to the reality at hand. “The blood drained from her face.”

            The priorities of her worries were clearly not in order. I wondered if this possibility ever crossed her mind.

            Did she ever think her mother would call? I did. I worried about it more the closer Jasmine and I became. The people in psychiatric care facilities worked to rehabilitate their patients—if it was possible. They wanted their patients to become functional members of society. I knew it was only a matter of time before her mother called to check on things.

            I wondered what the call could have been about. It could have been anything really. Anything at all.

            Maybe it was just a progress report. Just calling to let Jasmine know how everything was coming along.

            But that thought didn’t comfort me. There was a voice in the back of my head that kept telling me that I was only lying to myself.

            That voice was also making me question the real reason her mother called.

            After a moment, that question just repeated itself in my mind.

            Did her mother call to ask her to move back home?

            Just then, I could hear the garage door open with the sound of high heels on the tile that told me it was my mom.