Jess

Wow, I never thought that I would be back here again. I breathed in that clean, Indiana air. Yup you just can't get air like that in New York. Well, to be fair you probably could if you went upstate. Just not in the city where I lived. Hell's Kitchen to be precise. Pretty expensive but Ruth, my best friend, and I split the costs right down the middle. For those of you who don't know, my name is Jessica Mastriani. Most people call me Jess. You might have heard of me. It's fine with me if you haven't though. It fact, I kind of prefer it that way. You might have heard about me from reading the newspapers. I'm the girl who was hit by lightning and developed the psychic power to find missing people in my sleep.

It was a really big deal at the time. My powers, I mean. People wanted me to find their missing husbands, or kids or wives. Like the dead beat dads or the people who'd killed family members. Stuff like that. The FBI wanted me too. They wanted me to use my powers to find criminals, terrorists. It was a cool idea but I couldn't do it. Well, I guess I COULD but I wouldn't. I mean, I tried to, at first, but there was so much pressure. I mean I was 16! And I had Feds breathing down my neck all the time like, so, so, so, where is insert name of bad guy here? And don't even get me started on the reporters. They practically camped outside my house! It really screwed up my brother. Douglas. He's schizophrenic.

So, I really had no choice. I told everyone I lost my powers and that was it. Well, a bunch of other stuff happened before that like, finding a kid who wanted to stay missing, getting locked up in the infirmary of Crane Military Base and calling my boyfriend at the time-well not really boyfriend, It was complicated- to bust me and the kid out which involved blowing up a helicopter. Whatever, I don't have time to go into everything.

Anyway, a lot of stuff happened and eventually I decided to help the Feds in Iraq. Douglas convinced me too. Besides it was the right thing to do.

I couldn't handle Iraq. I mean at first it was ok. Sort of boring. Igot to know the guys inmy unit and they really looked out for me. But it got more intense. When you're only 16 and you go from hanging out in detention after school to finding terrorists, to watching people blow up and listening to kids scream at you not to take their father. Well, it would screw anyone up.

Then the nightmares came. And I couldn't sleep anymore.

I couldn't find them anymore. Because I couldn't dream.

PTSS. Post- traumatic stress syndrome. They tried everything to get rid of it. A vacation, drugs. Nothing worked. So they sent me home. But, I was different. It didn't help that when I got home, I saw the guy I was madly in love, Rob Wilkins, macking down on this blonde who had boobs bigger then my HEAD! We broke up. I moved to New York. But, I graduated college. And, now I need a job. So I'm back in Indiana and I can handle this. I can. Because I'm Jess Mastriani. I can do this…I hope.

That's how I ended up here. Driving to Wilkins Garage. My dad was making me go. He thinks that since I haven't ridden on it in a while that it's not safe to drive. I don't know. But, he was going to take it away if I didn't have it checked out so here I am on my way to Wilkins Garage. Where my ex-boyfriend works. However it is the best garage around. Regardless of who works there. Well, Rob's a get great mechanic but you know whatI mean. I was NOT going to stalk him! Maybe I'd get lucky and he wouldn't even be there. See, NOT STALKING!

My thoughts were interrupted by a shrill, annoying voice. "Jess! Jess! It's so good to see you again! Why didn't you tell me that you were coming back! I would have planned a brunch or a lunch or something! We can still hang out tomorrow right! I'll call you! I assume you are staying at your parents place right. You mom brought her biscotti to church last Sunday! It was soo good." Ugh, Karen Sue Hanky. She is such a drip. "Hi Karen Sue," I said in this really tired tone. Give me a break alright, the last time I saw her I had just broken her nose. I really don't like her. "I didn't know I was coming back." Come on, why couldn't the light turn green already. "Oh, that's interesting, how in New York-" The light turned green, alleluia, and I sped off.

Needless to say I was already in a pretty bad mood when I turned into the familiar cut-off for Wilkins Garage and sped in. All right so I do a lot of speeding into places. I like speed, sue me. Anyway, you'll never guess who I saw. If you said Hank Wendell then you were right. Hank was a guy who seat in the W's section of detention with me back in high school. I should have been sitting with the other M's but Ms. Clemmings thought I might be able to help control the rowdy Ws. It didn't work. Wendell's one of the guys helped bust me out of Crane. He was staring at my bike- it was one choice bike- and even after I took my helmet off it took him a minute to see who it was. "Hey Wendell" He stared at me for a moment and then it clicked, "Mastriani, hey. I didn't recognize you without the short hair." Oh yeah that's right. I grew my hair out a little, it was only slightly longer but Ruth said it made me look really different...and really hot! Wendell started talking again, "Okay, so I'll check out you bike, I'll just get the paperwork and you can sit in one of those chairs over there." "Sure, whatever" I replied and walked over to a set of really uncomfortable looking chairs.

Rob

I was working on the paychecks when Wendell walked. I hate the guy so I have no idea why I haven't fired him yet. Fine, I guess I don't hate him but he can get really annoying. There are only so many jibes about my sex life- or lack thereof – that I can take. Just because I haven't had a girlfriend since….. you know what forget it. Anyway Wendell comes in and says that he needs the paperwork for a regular bike check. I hand him the file and he gets this look in his eyes. The best way I can describe it is devilish and almost pitying. "Guess who's bike this is for?" he says. I groan. I do NOT want to play this game. "Who?" I'm expecting some kind of dirty joke to come next because, c'mon its Wendell but he says the the last words that I expect "Jess Mastriani"