What's Your Sign?

Nate took turns squinting and widening his eyes, forcing them to adjust to the road. He mumbled to himself, questioning the placement of the double dotted line painted on the black street.

A pair of headlights approached from the opposite direction. At first Nate was hypnotized by the dull glow. As they approached, his reaction time was delayed and he barely dodged a head-on collision.

The opposite car blared its horn as it swerved off to the left. Nate cursed to himself and slammed on his brakes. His tires rolled over the curb and came to a safe halt.

The volume of the horn escalated until it was abruptly cut off as the other vehicle made impact with the nearest treeline. Nate watched with owl eyes through his rearview mirror. He could only see the red tailights in the darkness.

The smattering of broken glass littered the road. Nate could hear his heart pumping in his ears over the roar of his engine.

The little house down the road made itself known with the flick of a porch light. Nate snapped himself out of it and stepped on the gas.

~oOo~

The next morning, Nate dragged himself out of bed with no less than a throbbing headache. He popped a few painkillers and forgot about it. His priority now was finding the right way to apologize to Ivy.

He wasn't going to beg, and he wasn't going to belittle himself. He would be honest and cut to the chase, and maybe charm her a little. She would challenge him -- that he didn't doubt. But this time he knew her weaknesses.

He only had a chance to knock once before the door pulled itself open. It wasn't the princess, but the peasant. Her angered eyes hadn't changed from the lunch table.

"What is it?" She demanded.

Nate felt as if a heavy curtain made of wool was draped over his shoulders. He hesitated at the unsettling feeling. "Is Ivy home?"

The peasant was honest. "Yes."

"Can I see her?"

The peasant crossed her arms and created a blockade in the doorway. "She's asleep. And no, you can't go in there and wake her up; she hasn't slept all night."

Nate didn't think she drank anything last night, especially not after the scene she created. He was sure to check that she'd gotten a ride home. "Does she feel alright?"

The peasant shook her head, disgraced. "I guess you could say she's still in one piece. Why do you care, anyway?"

Nate didn't appreciate her attitude. "Look, I'm just trying to be a nice guy."

"So is everyone else that stopped by this morning. Ivy doesn't want to see anyone, so get lost." The peasant closed the door over.

Nate caught it with his foot. "What is your name?"

"Laila. Thanks for asking."

"Laila," Nate was sure to capture her eyes. "Would you mind telling me what's wrong?"

The peasant -- Laila -- jerked her eyes away. She ran her finger over the doorknob. "You mean you don't know?"

Nate finally understood the weight of the wool curtain on his shoulders. He waited impatiently for an answer.

"Jackson is dead."

Nate froze. "How?"

Laila struggled to keep composure. "He crashed his car coming back from the city last night. He wasn't drunk, so they think it was a deer...or suicide -- it was only a one car crash -- Ivy's a wreck, so it's not a good time to play your games, okay?"

Nate bobbed his head as a series of black dots blurred his vision. "Oh, my god."

Laila wiped her dark eyes with the back of her hand. "I have to go. I guess I'll tell her you stopped by." She closed the door over again, but this time Nate didn't stop it.

~oOo~

Nate held his breath as the holographic screen loaded itself before him. He shut his eyes and prayed the horoscope was left unsolved. He'd rather suffer the consequences than be the reason Ivy's brother was dead.

What would he say to her? She didn't know he caused an accident, possibly her brother's. He even promised her he wouldn't drive himself home...

Nate flickered his eyes open once the screen was ready. He sighed, disgusted when the words presented themselves:

Status: Complete