For Always (8 page)

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Authors: Danielle Sibarium

BOOK: For Always
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“You think so?” I asked.

“Why don’t you date this other boy. If not him, someone else. Let Jordan see you’re not waiting around. That might put him into gear.”

“Or else?”

“Or else you might just have to let it be and give him time. You never know what might come in a few years.”

“A few years?” I asked incredulously. “He’s a senior. I might never see him after June.”

Grandma patted my leg, “If your feelings are that strong, and you’ve had him on your mind for the last seven months, I think you’ll make it your business to keep in touch with him.”

Since I didn’t have anything better in mind, I thought I’d give her suggestion a shot. I certainly had nothing to lose.

I hated seeing my grandparents leave. We shared such an amazing weekend. A cloud of sadness formed in my heart. I didn’t want to lose touch with them again. I didn’t know if it was the move to Florida, or the passing of time since my father’s death, but my grandmother seemed much warmer, softer. I enjoyed the bonding time we had. Grandpa was always wonderful. I was happy nothing about him changed.

I moped around all day Sunday, missing them. Without them here to distract me, my mind drifted to Jordan. I’d see him Monday. Of that, I was sure.

Ten

Monday morning at the bus stop I had the pleasure of introducing Maria to the little group trying to woo me into their ranks. Maria wasn’t used to me breaking out from behind the barriers I’d placed around myself years ago. I was usually more predictable than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Chris stood next to me, making corny jokes for my benefit and practically ignored Maria. I couldn’t be sure, but she seemed almost relieved they didn’t look to embrace her with open arms. I felt uneasy and jittery myself.

I watched them on the bus every morning. This group knew how to make the most of a boring bus ride. They were rambunctious and mocking. Usually they focused their outlandish jabs at each other, which didn’t bother me, but other times, no one and nothing were off limits. This didn’t sit well with me.

An uneasy feeling came over me every time I watched the boys fire spit balls into a Channel Thirteen tote of a large, homely looking woman, with a thick mustache. She didn’t seem to notice, but still, I felt guilty for never standing up for her.

One day George “accidentally” bumped into a man wearing a toupee, which ended up half off the unsuspecting man’s head by the end of the exchange. I didn’t have a warm fuzzy feeling about being associated with them.

When we got to school, Chris offered to walk me to my locker and first period class. I accepted, willing to bet that Maria would go straight to Jordan and tell him about the awful people I befriended while she’d been out.

We had a few minutes to hang out before the first bell rang. Chris leaned against the locker next to mine.

“How do I get you to say yes?”

“To?” I asked, wanting clarification.

“Going out with me, being my girlfriend, looking like you’re not terrified I’m a serial killer.”

I smiled breaking the tension.

“It’s just,” I looked away, nervous he’d laugh in my face, “It makes me uncomfortable when you guys make fun of people.”

“But George is such an idiot. It’s hard not to make fun of him.” He teased.

Okay, he had a sense of humor. Beautiful blue eyes and he could make me laugh. I could go on one date with him.

“I don’t mean George, or your other friends.” I cleared my throat feeling like such a geek. “I mean other people. People you don’t know.” I went on to give him examples.

He nodded. “I get it. I’ll talk to them.”

“You will?” I asked in disbelief. Great, that left me open to even more ridicule.

He smiled. “As long as we can make fun of each other, and you are included in that, I think we can live.”

“Me?” I felt panic rising.

“You have to compromise. It can’t be all one-sided.”

I closed my eyes and held my breath as I contemplated. “Okay, one date.”

“Whatever you say. I’ll meet you out front at dismissal.”

The date went well. Chris came to my house to meet my mother. Then we took a cab to the bowling alley. I couldn’t help notice how often a heavy silence fell over us. I found myself looking around, searching for a visual cue, something I could comment on to lead into conversation. Everything felt forced and unnatural. I was relieved after two games, Chris said he’d had enough.

Once in the cab to take us home, so I thought, the tension came flooding back. Chris had no intention of ending the date so soon. Instead we went to George’s house. He and Lydia were in his basement, along with some other people I didn’t know. They were all just hanging out playing video games. Chris promised we wouldn’t stay too long, especially since I had to be home at eleven.

I tried to stay close to the stairs. It wasn’t like I thought they’d hold me against my will, but I wanted a clear path if I felt the need for a quick getaway. Chris walked away and left me alone for a couple of minutes. He claimed he needed to go talk to someone.

Thinking of him as my only ally in hostile territory, I kept an eye on Chris through a haze of smoke. He took a seat in a dark corner of the room, next to a guy I didn’t recognize, with a slutty looking girl glued to his lap. I felt really out of place. I glanced around trying to find someplace, less awkward, to put myself. I noticed an abundance of beer cans on the floor. At that moment I heard George call to me.

“Hey, Stephanie, want a beer?” He held up a can of Coors Light.

I shook my head, “No thank you.”

George burst into laughter. “A real goody two shoes this one.”

Lydia began to sing, “Don’t drink, don’t smoke, what do you do?”

Chris returned to my side, and put his arm around me protectively, “Back off.”

Just like that, they did.

We walked up my front steps at five to eleven. Chris and I hung out on my stoop for a little while, talking some more. I wouldn’t have minded if he left, but I could tell he wanted to stay. I felt knots forming in my stomach, as he inched closer to me. He took my hand in his.

I didn’t want this to happen. It was all wrong. He was going to kiss me, and all I could do was wish he were Jordan. I figured since I was going to hell anyway, this would barely bleep on the radar compared to my other much larger transgression.

Almost another full week went by before I spoke to Jordan. I’d seen him in the halls on the way to class and waved, but I was too cowardly to talk to him. He didn’t look happy when he saw me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because I wasn’t stopping at his locker in the morning, or because I made it a point to wave in the hall.

My breath caught in my throat as I got to my last class and found Jordan standing by the door, waiting for me.

“Hi,” I felt a strange combination of excitement and apprehension.

“Want a ride home?”

“I’d love to but . . .” I swallowed hard trying to find my voice, “I have other plans.”

“Oh.” He looked away, “Some other time.” It only took him an instant to disappear into the crowd. And then it was too late to change my mind.

Ugh! I wanted to kick myself. Why the hell would I not just ditch Chris, and his halfway house gang, and go with Jordan? Simple. I knew I wouldn’t see Chris before dismissal and he’d be pissed if I just blew him off. I didn’t want to end up on the transportation hit list.

The bus ride dragged. I must have been more quiet than usual because each of my new acquaintances (I still had a hard time calling them friends) asked if I was alright. How could I explain to them one very poor lapse of judgment may have just foreshadowed the course of my entire high school existence?

Especially, since they were the cause of my consternation. Them, and Chris’ hand high up on my thigh. He wasn’t moving it or doing anything obnoxious, but it made me nervous. I didn’t like the implication. I belonged to him.

I told Chris my mother and I had plans for the weekend. I needed some time away from him and his crew. I needed to figure out what I was doing and why it felt so wrong.

“Are you seeing anyone else?” he asked, his face hard and stone-like.

“No.”

“You better not be.”

My stomach twisted and knotted. A chill ran up my spine. This was so not good. I wanted out. Now. Before things got worse. I just needed to figure out exactly what to say to him so we could part in an amiable way.

Eleven

On Saturday morning I decided to lie around in pajamas and watch television. Not like there was anything particularly good on, but it was a good time to catch up with what was on the DVR.

Mom went grocery shopping. She didn’t need much, so my staying home wasn’t a problem. I knew once she got home I’d be relegated to unpack the car.

I heard the keys jingle in the lock and paused the show I’d been watching.

“Stephanie!” Mom called annoyed. “What are you still doing in your pajamas?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll just throw my coat on over them.”

“Rethink,” Mom retorted before I could get out the door. “Someone is waiting for you outside. He’s talking to Maria.”

I let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I told Chris I couldn’t see him.”

She shook her head. “Not Chris. Some strange boy with long hair. I swear I thought it was a girl from behind.”

“Huh?” My mind was muddled. “I don’t know anyone who looks like that.”

“He says his name is Jordan.”

The wild excitement bursting through my veins had me jumping for joy. I didn’t need to tell my mother anything more about my feelings for Jordan than that.

“Jordan! He’s here? Outside?”

Mom nodded.

“Omigod! I need to get dressed.” I ran toward the stairs and paused. “Maybe I should stick my head outside and tell him to wait a few minutes.”

“Get dressed. He says he’s been waiting for half an hour.”

I took the steps two at a time, threw on a pair of jeans and a warm sweater. I ran a brush through my hair, splashed some water over my face, all the while feeling my insides bounce around like I was on a bungee jumping ride. I took a few breaths before opening the front door, hoping to return my heartbeat to normal.

All I saw when I stepped outside was a head of long, thick, black hair. Mom must have been wrong. Or else my eyes deceived me. The person in front of me couldn’t possibly be Jordan.

I turned to Maria. She smiled, and her eyes went from me to the person standing in front of her. Slowly the form turned.

“Hi,” Jordan smiled playfully. “Took you long enough.”

I stared in his eyes, a feeling of warmth spreading from my chest throughout my body. He came. I was so happy I didn’t care that he looked bizarre and outlandish.

“What is that?” I asked bursting into laughter.

He ran his fingers down the length of it. “I thought of growing my hair out. Not a good look for me?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Could we talk for a few minutes?” He suddenly sounded serious.

I nodded.

Maria said goodbye and went inside.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he began, looking calm and self-assured.

“I saw you yesterday,” I corrected.

“You know what I mean.” He looked directly into my eyes.

I couldn’t tolerate how they pierced through me. I broke the gaze and looked down at the ground. My teeth chattered from my wound way too tight nerves. He thought I was cold and offered to go inside.

Jordan helped me carry in the grocery bags and joked around while I put everything away. When I finished, we sat at the kitchen table sipping hot chocolate. Mom went into the living room where she could watch television while keeping an eye on us.

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