𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬.

Chapter One| Jamie

My adrenaline rushes in a tingling sensation throughout my body as I press my right foot on the gas. In the dark abandoned parking lot, I turn in circles. Midnight approaches in a few minutes and the cool breeze hits me from the open car windows. For once, I can't hear the aggravating voice racing around my brain. The only sound comes from the tires screeching across the pavement. Every thought about my parents trying to make me into this perfect daughter like my older sister, Renee, vanishes. In their eyes, I'm a disgrace to the Hart family name, and I will never be good enough for my parents. Not once have I gained approval from my own family. All my thoughts and feelings disappear for these few minutes, and I embrace who I am, and it isn't who they want me to be.

Two weeks ago, my father bought a new Lexus for himself. His first rule, I can't drive it, but why should I listen to him when he never does for me. I take it for a joyride around the city and end up in this empty parking lot that belongs to a movie theater no longer in business. Afterward, I'm going to sneak it back in the garage and parents are never going to find out, well that was the plan at least. With my luck, a black cat walks in the middle of the street, and I serve to avoid it, but I lose control and crash into the neighbor's tree. I think quick and try to run inside, but their stupid ass pitbull chases me and barks as loud as possible. Before I can even get to my yard safely, my neighbor's, the Matthews, come out yelling and not waiting for a second to tell my parents. Just fucking great.

I sit on the couch, eavesdropping in the living room, pretending to watch TV while my parents discuss what to do with me in the kitchen. "Jonathan, she is out of control. We've done everything known to man with Jamie." She's not kidding. I've gone to counseling with the school counselor. When that didn't work, they sent me to an expensive therapist, but I just went in circles with her so my parents would stop the sessions since they were going nowhere. My parents believe something is wrong with me because I act out more than most teenagers do, but in all honesty, it's in hopes they will finally talk to me and treat me as an adult. Renee was always respected and practically an adult at fifteen in their eyes, yet they don't treat me the same. I still make A's and attend school—most of the time anyway—and I'm still a science experiment they are trying to crack the code. Yes, I'm more rebellious than my sister, but I'm not hurting anyone.

"I know Lucille, and maybe we should ask someone who knows more about teenagers than we do. Ugh, I just wish she could act like Renee?" The day they don't compare me to my sister is the day they finally accept me. If they only knew Renee was no saint, either they wouldn't treat me this way. I know she's had a couple of pregnancy scares and came home late drunk from parties, yet they never found out. When I get caught, my parents always give me these long lectures and discipline me, but never sit down and ask about how my day was like they used to with Renee. Since I was ten, my own family made me an outcast.

"Well, do you know anyone we can call?" My father thinks for a moment.

"Yes, I could give my sister a call she would know what to do," he suggests. Aunt Kiera? She doesn't even have children, how the hell will she know what to do?

My mother leaves the kitchen and makes her way towards me. I turn to look at the television as I hear her slippers glide across the wooden floor. Disappointment fills my mother's eyes as she enters the living room. She seems exhausted in her velvet lavender robe wrapped tightly around her. My mother is a criminal defense lawyer, and her recent client has her stressed because it's the most serious case she encountered. She doesn't want to deal with me now. I wrecked my father's car after telling me not to drive it, but I didn't mean too, and even if I try to explain myself, they won't listen to a word of it. She glances at the TV for a minute then turns it off, facing me.

"Sweetheart, I just want to know why you always have to disobey us." My mom tries to remain calm and takes a seat across from me.

"Mom, it's because being a good child is boring," I say, trying to make her irritated, and it seemed to work as frown lines crease on her forehead and her lips purse.