I sprinted up Rose Hill, knocked on the mansion's side door, and waited for Tyler to open it. When he did, I rushed inside, hoping I wasn't too late. "I need to talk to you, privately. It's important."

I examined his expression as he closed the door. He didn't look angry or upset, just happy to see me. "Okay. Let's go to the library. We'll have privacy there."

He led me down the hallway to the library. He closed the door behind us, and I placed my research on the desk, praying he wouldn't close the door to our relationship tonight.

We sat on the love seat facing each other.

"I have something important I want to tell you, too." He smiled and leaned in to kiss me.

I had waited for this moment all day. I kissed him back eagerly, glad he wasn't angry at me. Yet. Why did Dean have to ruin everything?

            My pulse raced faster than a descending roller coaster, and every nerve in my body tingled.  I didn't want the kiss to end, but eventually we had to stop and breathe.

Tyler's lips curved into a smile so charming and contagious that I smiled too, but mine was bittersweet. If it wasn't for Dean's threat, I might have considered terminating my mission for justice. But I had no choice now. If I didn't tell him the truth, then Dean would.

             "So what did you need to talk to me about?" Tyler asked.

            "You first," I insisted.

            "Alright." He ran his fingers through his thick black hair, which showed me he was nervous, too. "I know we haven't been dating long. Officially, not at all, but the Charity Ball was the best night of my life. I am falling for you, Jasmine, and I want to spend every moment with you that I can." He paused, letting me absorb his confession. "I'm hoping you feel the same way."

             "I do, but . . . I don't think your mother wants us to be together. She totally monopolized you during the ball, although she did apologize later. She told Dean to tell me that she was sorry."

            "Really?" His eyes widened, and he blinked. "My mother hardly ever apologizes."

             "Dean said she was a little tipsy."

            He shrugged. "That's nothing new. My mother is a wine aficionado."

            "Is she an alcoholic?" I asked bluntly.

            He scowled and leaned back as if repelled by my question. "Why would you ask me that? Do your parents think my mother drinks too much? Is that why they won't let you go out with me?"

            "My parents won't let me go out with anyone. They don't trust me. They think I'm emotionally unstable, because of what happened when I was eight."

             "The car accident, but that was a long time ago."

            "I watched my daddy die," I whispered.

            "I'm so sorry. I didn't know that." His eyes filled with genuine sympathy for me.

            "You don't remember anything about the accident?" I asked, suddenly very afraid of his answer.

           He shook his head. "No."

            "But, you were there, in the car with your mother, when she hit our car. Do you remember her drinking earlier that day?"

"No. When I woke up in the hospital, I didn't remember what had happened. The doctors said I had amnesia. I still don't remember anything about that day. My mother told me she swerved to avoid hitting an animal in the road and that's what caused the crash. And I believed her."

            "So, you don't remember anything about the accident?" I sounded like a scratched DVD, repeating the same question.

            "Not a thing."

I searched his face to determine if he was lying, but I only saw the truth in his eyes. He didn't remember. He couldn't help me expose his mother, and I only exposed myself by confronting him.

"How ironic!" I muttered bitterly, all hope for justice gone.  "You can't remember the accident, and I can't forget."

"If you thought my mother killed your father, why did you agree to go out with me the first time?" Amazingly, he didn't sound angry, just confused and curious.

"To thank you for rescuing me. And then you kissed me . . ." My face flushed from embarrassment. "You were so persistent about seeing me again. I couldn't say no. I had a crush on you before the accident, since the rehearsals for the third grade play. Actually, even before that, since you let me borrow your fuzzy blue pencil."

"Hey, you never gave my pencil back!"

"Nope. I still have it in my desk drawer at home. Mimi was so mad about the pencil. She tripped me at recess, and I got a bloody knee when I fell on the blacktop. You helped me to the bench, yelling for a teacher. You were my hero."

"I don't know why I stayed with Mimi. She was so spiteful."

"She still is."

Tyler gazed into my eyes. "I can't change the past, Jasmine. Can you . . . can we focus on our future together and put the past behind us?"

Wow! He still wanted to have a future with me. I stared straight into his beautiful eyes. "All I ever wanted was to forget the past. I swear to God and my daddy in heaven, that's the truth."

I would do anything to end my nightmares about the past. I always thought bringing Mrs. Price to justice would stop them, but maybe there was another way. "But I don't know how to put the past behind me and focus on the future. Believe me, I've tried. "

"I do believe you," Tyler insisted, "and I can help you. We'll do it together."

"Together. I would like that."

"Yeah. I meant what I said earlier. I want to spend more time with you. Even if our parents don't approve of us dating, we'll find a way to be together. There have to be more adult-supervised events we can go to, like the Charity Ball." He paused, scrunching his forehead as if deep in thought. "What was the message on the roses you gave to my mother?"

"I'll never forget what you did."

"You weren't referring to the invitation to the ball."

"No. The accident."

"I wondered why my mother looked like she'd seen a ghost. She had to know that you would eventually tell me about the accident. Why didn't she talk to me first?"

"There's only one reason that I can think of."

"Because she's guilty." He crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head.

"I think that's why she told Dean to tell me she was sorry. Are you going to confront her?" I asked.

"I don't know," he answered, staring at the floor and then at me. "Are you?"

"I don't know. Probably. I would like her to apologize to me. To my face. I want her to admit what she did."

Tyler sighed. "If she's sober, my mother will never admit she's done something wrong."

I heard footsteps out in the hall. Professor Spencer must be home. "Are you going ask your father about the accident?"

"Not yet. I want to talk to my mother first." 

Would she tell him the truth? I had my doubts.

Dr. Spencer opened the door and entered the room. "Sorry. I'm late. Are you two ready to get started?"

"Yes. Let me grab my notes." I took mine off the desk, and Tyler picked up his pile.

"Did you have any trouble finding the information you needed in the books I gave you?" Dr. Spencer asked.

"No. Everything was explained quite clearly," Tyler answered while looking straight at me. "I just need some information from other sources."

He was referring to more than his term paper. I could only hope his "other sources" told him the truth this time.

A/N: Video above is It's Not Over Yet by For King and Country.

"They are inside your head.

You got a voice that says,

You won't get past this one.

You won't win your freedom.

It's like a constant war,

And you want to settle that score.

But you're bruised and beaten,

And you feel defeated.

This goes out to the heaviest heart.

Oh, to everyone who's hit their limit.

It's not over yet. It's not over yet-et.

And even when you think your finished.

It's not over yet. It's not over yet-et.

Keep on fighting.

Out of the dark and into the light. It's not over.

Hope is rising.

Never give in. Never give up. It's not over.

Yet-et-woah."

Keep fighting for your dreams. Never give up. Do you have a dream you're fighting for? Let me know in the comments.

I want to be a published author someday.

Forever Remember to Live, Laugh, and Love! - 3L