Letters to Nowhere (17 page)

Nope. Not me. I get panic attacks and ruin very important balance beam routines.

“It’s not like that with Jordan,” I said immediately. “Nothing like that.”

“Okay. Good.”

Both of us glanced at the clock, knowing time had to be up by now. Sure enough, we were already five minutes over. Jackie followed me out into the waiting room, and because my life seemed to have a way of getting more and more humiliating, Jordan was sitting in the waiting area reading a copy of
Women’s World
.

“Oh God,” I mumbled. Jackie heard me and glanced up at the cute boy occupying the only seat.

Jordan looked slightly concerned as he tossed his magazine onto the table. “You don’t look too excited to see me.”

“Why aren’t you in school?” I asked.

“Early dismissal.”

I could still feel Jackie’s eyes on us, though she was now conversing with the receptionist. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Um…you’re welcome.” Jordan followed me toward the door. “You were just talking about me, weren’t you?” he whispered from behind me. “I know that look.”

“I’m always talking about you, Jordan.” I turned around to give him my judges smile. “It’s like I can’t think of one single thing to discuss that’s more important than Jordan Bentley. I’ve doodled your name on every notebook I own.”

He laughed as he held the door open for me, and when we reached his car he said, “That’s called flirting, Karen, and you’re very good at it.”

I mulled that over for a minute and smiled as I sank into the battered passenger seat. “What would my score be?”

“Nine point one,” he said right away.

When we pulled up to the house, the fun teasing expression dissolved from his face. “I shouldn’t have asked what you were talking about. It’s none of my business. I’m sorry.”

Since part–truths had become my favorite pastime, I decided to use that method yet again. “We
were
talking about you. Mostly, the difference between you and me, socially. Jackie’s really into goal setting and she wants me to set a few non–gymnastics goals, and I completely blanked on her and couldn’t come up with any. She suggested something normal for you or other people like you, but maybe not for me.”

He turned the music all the way down and cranked up the heat, like he was totally comfortable sitting in the car with me while parked in front of his home. “Like going to a high school dance? Or a football game?”

“She’s really big on it being something that other people can’t control. I don’t have a prom to go to and it’s not football season, is it?”

Jordan shook his head.

I took a deep breath, ready to attack a goal I’d literally just created in my head. “Can I ask you something really personal? Please don’t answer it if you don’t want to. It’s none of my business, but I just want to know because—”

“Karen.” He stared at me. “Just ask.”

“Have you…you know…”
More fingernail chewing
. “Had sex?”

He watched me biting my index fingernail. “Yeah.”

I leaned my head against the seat, relieved he didn’t sound angry. “What was it like?”

He laughed a little and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. “Quick.”

“That’s it?”

“Awkward, unromantic, inept, gauche—”

“Okay, I get it. Enough with the SAT vocab lesson,” I laughed. “But did you feel like you knew so much more about it after? Like you’d jumped this giant hurdle and sex wasn’t a big unknown anymore?”

“I guess so, but that didn’t make me any more confident.”

“Confidence comes with practice,” I recited, and then quickly realized the insinuations of using that line with this particular subject matter. “I didn’t mean that. I
don’t
mean that.” My face flamed.

Jordan flashed me a dimple–filled smile. “It’s only true if you’re practicing with the same person all the time. Just because you’ve done it with someone, doesn’t mean you’re not nervous with someone else. It’s like starting over.”

“There’s been more than one person?”

He laughed again. “Two persons.”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t have to answer that.”

“You can ask me anything you want, Karen.” He straightened up and finally took the keys out of the ignition. “But it’s different for me. I’m a guy. You might not want
just
my perspective. Maybe find a second person to ask. A lot of girls our age are not having sex. Even some of the girls I know from school that have boyfriends and have been with them for months. And trust me, I’m getting the details from the guys, not the girls, which means whatever they say they’re doing is already blown up by fifty percent.”

“That’s good to know,” I said, keeping my face totally dead serious. “And I was just going to ask if you wanted to do that friends–with–benefits–thing, but you’re right, I should probably wait.”

I jumped out of the car and headed for the front door.

“I think you still have that fever.” Jordan jogged up beside me, laughing. “My friend Tony’s coming over in a few minutes. We’re going sledding again, if you want to come?” Jordan asked as we stomped snow off our boots inside the foyer.

“I would love to, but I’m starving and have three pounds to gain back after the flu–from–hell.” I was already on my way to the kitchen the second my coat was hung up, and Jordan followed right behind me. “And then I’ve got homework and Stevie’s picking me up in a little while. Ally wants both of us to come in an hour before practice for some physical therapy.”

I removed a single–portion sized container of leftover chicken soup from the fridge and popped it in the microwave. Jordan opened a drawer and handed me a spoon. “How was practice this morning?”

“Awesome. I did five beam routines with a tucked back full. Stacey said I might be able to compete the new routine in Chicago.”

Jordan grinned and lifted his hand for a high five—
’cause we’re just friends
. “When do I get to see your new release move on uneven bars?”

“If everything goes as planned, you could see it during Friday evening’s practice, if you want.”

“I’ll be there.”

The doorbell rang, and before Jordan could even answer it, Tony was trampling through the house and into the kitchen.

I stood there holding my container of soup, not sure what to say, but both guys laughed when they realized I looked a little disgruntled.

“It’s all right,” Jordan said. “Tony knows you live here. And that you’re not a freshman at our school.”

For a big giant ogre guy, Tony had a very friendly smile. I leaned against the counter, taking a few bites of soup.

“So, you two really share a bathroom?” Tony asked.

“Yep. Do you live at school?” I asked, remembering that Jordan’s school was a boarding school.

“Not anymore,” Tony said. “My mom’s the police chief. She said it looked like we were more of a family if I lived at home. Helped her campaign or whatever.”

Police chief
…Several things went through my head in that moment, and I barely heard Jordan say he was going to the garage to get his snow gear.

“Police chief doesn’t get you a big house like that.” Nosy wasn’t something I’d been before, but desperate times called for bold actions. “What does your dad do?”

“He’s a plastic surgeon.” Tony fiddled with the zipper on his black ski jacket and leaned next to me. “I’m sorry about your parents. I saw the article in the paper. My mom was talking about it at home. Then when Jordy told me you were staying here, I put it together.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, not knowing what else to say. At least he was decent enough to bring it up and not say anything stupid like, “They’re in a better place.” I hated that.

“Sure you don’t want to go with us?” Jordan asked when he returned with an armful of snow pants and gloves.

“No, but thanks for the invite.”

“See you later, Karen,” Tony said on his way out.

I sat down at the table with my laptop, notebook, and soup, ready to finish homework and tackle a revised list of long–term goals for Jackie.

Blair asked me last week how I got over my issue with vault several years ago, and the answer was drills and technical analysis. If I could just apply that to my parents’ accident, maybe I could get past the nightmares and visions of accidents that never happened. Maybe I could get past the panic attacks.

“W
e’re not going inside?” Jordan asked.

I shook my head and fought off the emotions threatening to drown me.
Be strong…look the beast in the eye,
I said over and over again inside my head.

Jordan and I stood in my garage, staring at a very neglected, nearly new silver Audi. It was hard enough to go into the garage. I couldn’t handle stepping inside the house. But Blair was right; I had to force this on myself in order to really gain control of my emotions.

Or at least that was the theory I’d adopted. I fumbled for the keys in my backpack and unlocked the door. I sat in the driver’s seat and started the ignition. Already the familiar smell had my head spinning, but this had to be easier than going in the house again. I sat still, letting the car warm up for a few minutes.

Jordan held the driver door open, leaning in closer to me. “Let me ride with you first. Just a couple laps around the block. It’s icy, and we didn’t even tell my dad…”

I let out a frustrated breath. “Jordan, I’m a licensed driver. My grandmother told me to come get my car whenever I’m ready. Stop worrying.”

His face reflected very conflicting emotions. “How long did you have your license?”

“Three months,” I answered staring at the steering wheel. “What are you going to do to rescue me while you’re sitting in the passenger seat that you can’t do by following me in your car?”

“Fine,” he said, clearly pissed off at me.

He was just worried about Bentley blaming him, since he was the one who had driven me over here. I would have taken the bus if he’d said no, anyway.

“Can you even reach the pedals?” Jordan said in a last–second plea.

I glared at him and pulled the door shut. I’d nearly put the car in reverse when he knocked on the window. I hit the button to roll it down. “What?”

He leaned on the frame, looking so, so cute and stressed out. “Nothing…I’m sorry. You’re right. You have to do this. Just don’t, you know…drive angry.”

I burst out laughing. “Thanks for the PSA.”

I watched in the rearview mirror as he jogged down the driveway and got into his car. And yes, I was totally and completely nervous, but in all fairness, I wasn’t a bad driver. In fact, I had gotten a perfect score on my driving test, but due to last year’s shoulder surgery, I had to wait several months to complete my driver’s ed course. I put the car in reverse and backed out, hitting the button to shut the garage door. I waited until it sealed completely, freezing my home exactly as it had been left, then I was headed down the block, Jordon and his puke green car behind me.

When I pulled into the Bentleys’ complex, parking a few spaces from their town house door, I could feel myself ready to grin. I hadn’t flipped out or felt that weird chest tightening dizziness or nausea. Jordan’s friend Tony was waiting with Jordan at the front door.

Tony stuck his hand out for me to high–five him. “Nice wheels, Campbell!”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “He’s got the exact same car but blue.”

I looked where Jordan had just pointed and saw an identical Audi in a deep blue. “Cool.”

Jordan stared at me like he wanted to say something, but maybe not in front of Tony. “Okay, you two,” Tony said. “Big party at my house tonight. You’re coming, right?”

The front door was finally opened by Jordan. Tony and I followed him in. I’d had several days to figure out a plan for getting the information I needed about my parents’ accident, and Tony’s presence today made the last piece fall into place.

“I’m totally up for it,” I said. “If we can figure out something to tell Jordan’s dad.”

Jordan looked at me in surprise, but then yanked his phone from his pocket as it vibrated. I wasn’t trying to look. I really wasn’t. But the front of it was flashed in my line of sight for half a second.

Stevie Davis.

This overwhelming sense of dread and something I couldn’t put my finger on filled my stomach. Especially as I watched Jordan’s eyebrows lift and then he headed for the stairs saying, “Be right back.”

How did Stevie get his number, and why was she calling him? I shoved the thought from my head and turned to face Tony. “Hey, I have a question. More like I need a favor, actually.”

He looked both suspicious and curious. “All right…?”

I sat on the arm of the couch, keeping my eyes on Tony. “I was just wondering if you could get some information for me from your mom? But not tell her who it’s for.”

“This sounds illegal, which I’m not totally opposed to.”

I sucked in a breath, closing my eyes for a second. “I just want to know the location of my parents’ accident. I know the general area, but the police wouldn’t tell me the exact mile marker on the interstate, and I really need to know.”