[chapter one]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please. ;-)
A/N: This is my first time writing
in first person, present tense. It's experimental. :-) Let me know if I totally
suck and should go back to my tried and true ways. ;-) Either way, it's good
for me! :-)
A/NII: As always, thanks to Sweetie, Pumpkin and Denise for being betas, saying nice stuff about my stories, and encouraging me to try writing differently. I love you guys. *hugs*
**
~Jasmine's POV~
"Move, jackasses!" I yell through my helmet as my motorcycle roars into the driveway.
I have no compunction about running over all three of my roommates if they don't get out of my way, basketball game or no.
"Scrub off." Alex says good naturedly as he shoots another basket over Scout's head before turning to stick his tongue out at me.
I flip off my brother jokingly in return as I kill the engine on my VFR and park the heavy bike before pulling my helmet off and running a quick hand through my hair.
"Don't any of you people work for a living?" I ask teasingly as I climb off the bike and unzip my leather jacket.
"Yeah. We left work when we were supposed to." Jon says with a grin, dribbling the basketball away from Scout and going for a three pointer.
"Must be nice." I shoot back, putting my helmet down on the ground and removing my gloves, while watching the three of them yell and shout at each other with a shake of my head.
After a few moments and a few rolls of my head to loosen up, I wander down the driveway to check for the mail and to avoid being pulled into the game. I'd stayed at work over an hour and a half later than I intended - tired, hungry, and aggravated - but found that a quick ride around town on my bike cured most of my irritated thoughts and restored my spirits.
I yank open the mailbox and pull out an overflowing pile of catalogs, bills, advertisements and letters and begin sorting them as I slowly turn back up the driveway. I hear my name being called and look up, confused.
"Jasmine!"
I smile as I see my neighbor jog across his own driveway towards me while waving at the roommates.
"Hey Jimmie." I say with a grin. "What's shakin'?"
"Nada. Just got home, thought I'd say hey." Jimmie says, coming to a stop in front of me.
Jimmie had moved into the house next door about six months ago, and had immediately hit it off with the guys and me. He's a total sweetheart and a great neighbor - and doesn't mind our parties and odd behavior, and we don't mind his strange hours and penchant for cars, all of which are stored in the huge garage he built on the side of his property.
"Hey." I throw back. "Good job this weekend." I say conversationally.
"Thanks." Jimmie blushes slightly. "I thought I was a goner when that tire blew, but we did okay."
He says that every weekend. He could win and he'd still say they did okay.
Goober.
"I stuck all your mail and newspapers on your table as usual, and UPS delivered a box to our place when you weren't home. Let me run and get it and bring it over." I say and Jimmie grins and nods.
"Thanks, as always."
"I'll be right back." I say, turning to our front door as Jimmie jogs back to his own house. I grab the box from our front hallway and head back over to Jimmie's house.
Without bothering to knock on the front door, I push it open and step inside, kicking it shut behind me.
"Where do you want this, J?" I call out, fumbling with the box.
"Right there's fine!" Jimmie's voice calls back from the family room and I unceremoniously drop the box on the tiles and brush my hands on my pants. "Thanks!"
"Not a prob…" I trail off as I walk into the family room. "Hi." I say to Jimmie's visitor.
Jeff Gordon.
I wondered if I was ever gonna meet this guy.
Amazing I can even recognize him without that obnoxious Dupont uniform on.
I raise an eyebrow slightly as I watch him stand up from the couch and walks over to me with a shy smile.
"Uh, hi. I'm Jeff Gordon." He says, his voice quiet, timid.
"Never heard of ya." I shoot back, shaking his outstretched hand, winking at Jimmie as he rounds the corner and sees us.
He's sorta cute, in a stuffy, boring, saintly type way.
Too bad he's looking at me like I just grew a second head.
"Shuddup, Jasmine." Jimmie teases and I stick my tongue out at him.
"Jeff, this is Jasmine Jones, my obnoxious next door neighbor." Jimmie shoots back and I throw him a wounded look.
"I'm obnoxious?! Let's talk about the fact you put your Styx Greatest Hits CD on high volume, and on repeat, and then left the house for 6 hours last Wednesday." I fire back and Jimmie snickers.
I'm still pissed about that. Styx. Of all the 70s hair bands…
"You're the one that sporked my front yard!" Jimmie argues.
"I did not!" I say, indignant. "That was Scout."
Jimmie looks at me sternly.
"I put up the 'for sale' sign." I concede with an evil grin and Jimmie laughs.
Jeff looks back and forth between us, completely silent. I think we've scared him.
Or he only knows how to introduce himself, thank sponsors or talk to his spotter, I don't know.
"I got 12 calls that day!" Jimmie shouts and I laugh.
"Ooh. My heart bleeds."
"Okay. You can get out now." Jimmie says with a laugh and I roll my eyes.
"Gladly. Obnoxious, my ass." I mutter as I turn towards the front door. "Next time, it'll be toilet paper."
"The classy alternative to sporks." Jimmie murmurs.
"I'll be sure to buy Charmin, if it will make you feel better."
"We still on for - " Jimmie begins before I interrupt him, anticipating his question.
"Yeah." I answer, knowing what he's asking. "Eight."
"Okay."
"Nice meeting you, Jeff." I say, throwing a look over my shoulder. "Next time, maybe you'll actually talk."
I can hear Jimmie burst into laughter as I close the front door behind me with a grin.