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Authors: Michelle Levy

BOOK: Not After Everything
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TWENTY-TWO

Jordyn is absent from work the next day. I find myself wishing she were here. Henry's in an unusually bad mood, so I don't dare ask why she isn't. But I'm feeling kind of off.

On my way to the bathroom between retouches, I catch Henry arguing into his cell. I make out something about Jordyn doing something he's less than thrilled with. As horrible as it is, I'm kind of happy about that—not that he's mad at Jordyn, but that they don't have an absolutely perfect relationship.

With Henry's mood, I don't want him to catch me doing something not work related, so I figure I can't take too long to calm myself down. I'm not even sure why I'm so worked up. Maybe I have, like, a Pavlovian response to anger. I splash some cold water on my face and run my wet fingers through my hair, reminding myself that I need this job and that Henry's not my dad and that he would never act like him in a million years.

I open the door to find a very unhappy Henry. “Did you encourage her to rekindle things with that ex of hers?”

“What?” I'm getting a bit of a
Deliverance
vibe off him. I back into the bathroom.

He follows me in. “I saw you two talking at the wedding and then next thing she's dancing with that Mike kid.”

How is this my fault? I try to recall our conversation last night, but the walls are closing in and the piss smell of the toilet is making me want to vomit and Henry looks like he's about to rip my head off.
Henry is not like Dad. Henry is not like Dad.

His phone rings. I think about using the distraction to get the fuck out of here, but once he realizes it's Jordyn on the other end, he stands in the doorway deliberately trapping me.

“Where the hell were you? Your mother was a wreck all night thinking something happened to you.”

Henry glares at me as he listens to her response. I feel like I'm on trial for something I have no idea I've done.

“Aslan called us. Said you didn't come home.”

His glare intensifies as he listens.

“He is. And he didn't bother saying anything to me about that. He has some serious explaining to do, if you ask me.”

I swallow the golf ball in my throat.

“This ain't over,” Henry says into the phone before thrusting it at my chest, about knocking the wind out of me. He storms out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

I stare at the phone until I hear Jordyn on the other end telling me to pick it up.

“Um?”

“I'm so sorry, Tyler! I'm so, so, so sorry!”

“What's going on?”

“I told Henry I was with you last night. Will you please, please, please go with it? I'll owe you.”

“Are you fucking crazy? He already went on a rant about your ex. I'm not telling him you were with me last night.”

“Not like that. I told my mom that I had a little champagne at the reception and that you were taking me home and I begged you not to take me to my dad's house because I didn't want him to see me drunk, so I stayed at your house to sleep it off.”

“And this will make them hate me less, how?”

“Please, Tyler?”

“I need this job, Jordyn.”

“I swear my mom will calm Henry down. It'll be fine. I'll even tell them Mike tried to make me go home with him, but you intervened, and you can be the hero. Please?”

Of course I'm going to help her, but I'll make her sweat a little first.

“Please?” Her voice has taken on a tone of desperation I didn't think she was capable of.

“Fine.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank—”

“One condition.”

“Anything.”

“Tell me where you really were,” I tease.

“Shut up.” I can practically hear her turn red.

“You little slut.”

“Really? You're going to call me a slut?” She's back to normal.

“I hope you at least—”

“I'm not an idiot. Of course we used condoms.”

“Good for you. But what I was going to say is, I hope you at least enjoyed yourself.” My face is starting to hurt from smiling.

“I, um, well, it's really none of your business, but yes I did enjoy myself.” I can all but feel the heat from her blush through the phone and it's killing me. I am loving this. Oh, how the tables have turned. “At least, I enjoyed myself until this morning when I remembered how things used to be.”

“Well, you want to know something really messed up?”

“Of course.”

“I . . . I really miss you here.”

She goes silent.

“Henry's really fucking scary when he's angry!”

“Oh, god. Tyler, I really, really owe you. I'm taking you to dinner. Someplace nice. Your choice.”

“It's a date.”

She's silent again.

“Don't be so literal,” I say. “I'll see you at school tomorrow. And I'll start making a list of places I've always wanted to try but didn't have the money.”

“Thanks again.” She hangs up.

“Anytime,” I say to myself.

TWENTY-THREE

I wait for Jordyn at lunch in the usual spot on Monday—we're cooling it on the carpooling since I have a tendency to take off without warning these days. When she rounds the corner and her face isn't caked in all her usual makeup, my stomach drops. She didn't do that because of me, did she?

“Hey,” is all I'm able to manage. She's still wearing heavy eye makeup and dark lipstick, but at least her natural skin is on display and not covered in that powdery white chalk stuff.

“You look disappointed. You didn't think I'd listen to you, and now you're annoyed that I did?” She tucks her shiny black hair behind one ear.

“No. It's that I—I'm just surprised you
did
listen. I mean, who am I to tell you to change what you're doing?” I set my pizza slice down on the bench. My appetite is gone.

“Don't flatter yourself. I did this for me. You helped, maybe, a little. The other night— Well, not all people suck as much as Jenna McCoy, okay?” She sits across from me and lifts her slice to her mouth.

“You look good,” I say.

She rolls her eyes and takes a bite of her pizza.

• • •

After school Friday, I take Captain for a long run through the greenbelts. I thought about heading for the Red Rocks path, but it gets dark so early now. The paths here are nearer civilization, so the chances of encountering a mountain lion are less likely.

It's not until I hear someone calling my name that I realize I'm not far from Jordyn's house.

I slow my pace and head up the path toward the street.

“You stalking me?” she asks.

“You wish.”

“Who's this?”

Captain jumps up on her, tail wagging like crazy, and of course he's smiling. I expect her to freak that he's showing his teeth, but she gets down and allows him to lick her all over her face. It's only then that I realize she's not wearing any makeup. Like, at all. No eyeliner. No lipstick. And she's never looked better. She's wearing jeans and a hoodie under her coat. She's beautiful. How can she cover all that up? What the hell am I thinking? This is
Jordyn
. She's my friend. My
only
friend. I can't screw that up.

“He's smiling,” she says, snapping me out of my stupidity.

“That's what I always say. Most people think he's threatening, though. His teeth.”

“Nah, he's a good boy. Aren't you?” Captain licks her face again. “What's his name?”

“Captain Jack Sparrow, but we call him Captain.”

“Jack Sparrow didn't have an eye patch. Did he, Captain?” Her adorable puppy-talk voice is killing me, it's so cute.

“Mom liked Johnny Depp, so that's the pirate we went with.”

“It suits him,” she says, sitting on the ground so Captain can worm his way onto her lap. He sits facing me but he looks back and kisses at her every two seconds. She laughs each time. And when she laughs, she's even more beautiful. What is wrong with me?

“Where are you off to?” If she says a date, it might kill me. In fact the idea of that asshat ex of hers getting to have sex with her last week is killing me.

She's waiting for me to say something.

“Sorry, what? I was distracted.”

“I'm going to the animal clinic—the shelter where I volunteer. They just took in a hoarder's loot. There were like fifty cats or something ridiculous like that. They've had to put a bunch down because of feline leukemia, but they need me to help out with the ones that are healthy. I get to de-flea and de-worm. What can I say? I lead a glamorous life.”

Shit. Why is she so freaking perfect?

This is not going to end well.

I have to stop this line of thinking.

I'm staring. She notices I'm staring. And we hold eye contact for an uncomfortable length of time. Shit. I just know she can tell I'm into her. Now she'll be all awkward, and I've ruined my, like, one friendship. And I didn't even get to have sex with her.

“I gotta run. I'll see you tomorrow,” she says, pulling her keys from her pocket. She leans down and gives Captain a good scratch and a kiss on the head. “And just so your human doesn't get jealous,” she says to Captain as she reaches up and kisses me on the cheek. And it's the best cheek kiss in the history of cheek kisses. Closer to my lips than a normal cheek kiss and also a bit more lingering. Talk about mixed messages. I am so totally screwed.

I run for another hour, trying to stop picturing Jordyn beneath me, sweaty and naked. When that doesn't work, I head for the shower. I'm pretty sure it's just that I haven't gotten laid in a while. It's just that she's a girl, a not unattractive girl, who's showing interest. Nothing more. I just need to get laid. I'll call Ali Heart-over-the-
i
after my shower. But I don't want Ali, I want Jordyn.

I settle for myself.

• • •

I don't notice that Dad's home until he comes down from his room grumbling about “where the fuck have you been hiding.”

I'm in the kitchen, and I didn't close my bedroom door because I assumed he was off getting plastered for the night. I can't let him see that I'm worried, or he'll head right for it. But he doesn't go downstairs. He comes into the kitchen and stands right behind me. I'm making some stir-fry-in-a-bag thing.

“Smells good. What are
you
gonna eat?” He laughs. He thinks he's hilarious. Especially when he's buzzed. Of course, when he's buzzed he likes to play the “Fuck With Tyler” game.

I don't engage. I just finish the stir-fry and pull out two plates. He takes one and chucks it into the wall like a Frisbee. It shatters.

“I only need one plate.” He says this like he's kindly declining a refill at a restaurant.

I pour the entire contents of my dinner onto his plate and set the pan in the sink. I turn on the water and let it run over the hot pan, steaming up the window facing the backyard.

I can feel him watching me. I turn to get him a fork, figuring he's trying to show me how I'm his bitch and all that. “You're welcome,” I say, setting the fork next to the delicious-smelling food that I paid for.

I've barely turned back to shut off the water when I feel my head being slammed toward the counter. But it's not the counter, it's the stove. I can feel the heat still rising off the burner. If I hadn't instinctively stopped my head from making contact, I'd be scraping my face off the still-hot burner. He pushes harder, and from my awkward angle, I can feel myself losing the battle.

He wants me to beg. I know it. He knows I know it. And he knows I won't do it. He's laughing and kicking at the back of my knee, trying to get me to lose balance.

I push back just as he hits my knee at the right angle to drop me. My ear meets the burner and it hurts like hell. He tries to hold my head so the burning sensation can really take its toll, but my adrenaline flares and I elbow him in the windpipe. He lets go. If he weren't coughing so damn hard, he'd be kicking the shit out of me. He holds his throat and glares.

I leave the water running and grab Captain and run to my room, locking it behind me just as I hear him plow into the door.

“You fucking asshole! I'll fucking kill you! You hear me? I'll fucking kill you! I'll kill you!” His screams become sobs and I can tell he's now lying on the floor right outside my door. “Why'd you do it, Sarah? I miss you so much. Why'd she do it? I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Tyler. I shouldn't be allowed to be a parent. Not without Sarah. I miss her, Tyler. It hurts so much. Sarah.” He repeats her name over and over until I'm forced to blast the stereo just so I'm not tempted to try to help him. I can't. Not after what he just did. Not even when he's like this.

I punch and kick my bed until I feel my little toe snap.

• • •

I limp into Dr. Dave's office the next morning.

“What's with the gimp routine?” he asks as I take my usual seat. I just hope he doesn't notice the beginnings of a scab on my ear. Good thing I still haven't gotten the haircut I so desperately need.

“I think I broke my toe.”

“How'd you manage that?”

“Kicking the shit out of my bed.”

“For any particular reason, or you just didn't sleep well?” He grins.

“I was looking at the pictures of my mom again,” I lie.

“We need to find you a healthier outlet.”

“I think I'm projecting feelings for Jordyn because she's the only person who's nice to me. Besides you, of course.” I hope he takes the bait. I have to change the subject.

“Well, wait a minute. Would it be so bad if your feelings for Jordyn were real?”

“No, it wouldn't. You see? That's the problem.”

“I don't see a problem. It's only a problem if you act on it in typical Tyler fashion.” He lowers his glasses to give me a mock-judgmental glare.

“But if my feelings for her are real, what if I screw it up? She's the only friend I have. I . . . need her.”

“And that scares you?”

“Of course it scares me. What if— I mean, I don't want to need anyone, you know? They'll just end up leaving like Mom di—” The realization hits me like I stepped into a steaming hot shower to find it freezing cold. It takes my breath away.

“She's not going to leave you, Tyler,” he says gently, nudging a box of tissues toward me on the coffee table even though I'm not crying.

“You don't know that.”

“You're right. I don't. And you don't. But is it worth not living just in case she does? You plan on living your whole life like that? Never trusting anyone? Never loving anyone because they might leave you, or they might die? What about your dog? Are you going to toss him aside because you'll likely outlive him?”

“It's not the same.”

“Isn't it?” He watches me for what feels like forever. “Do you think Jordyn has feelings for you?” he finally asks.

“I don't know. I mean, she recently hooked up with her douchebag ex at a wedding shoot and he was kind of like the old me. And she sends me mixed messages, but I can't read her. This is new territory for me. I'm used to chicks being pretty straightforward. Remember the last one?”

“There aren't even words for that last one.” He sighs. “Tyler, Jordyn isn't the same. She isn't just a cheap lay. You're having feelings. Surely you've had feelings for a girl before hooking up with her?”

“Not really.”

“That's . . . sad.”

“Doc, I was hoping you'd talk some sense into me and here you're telling me I should act on my urges toward Jordyn.”

“I didn't tell you to act on your urges, I told you to act on your feelings. I hope for your sake you know the difference.”

• • •

When I see Jordyn at work, she's still not wearing any makeup. And it's seriously messing with my head. I'm not entirely convinced she's not doing it for me. But then again, I've seen her actually talking to people at school for a change. I'm probably being an arrogant douchebag.

When she asks why I'm so weird today, I tell her I'm thinking about Mom not leaving a note. It works. She doesn't bring it up again. But I'll have to figure out how to put a lid on this shit, because that excuse will only work for so long. I notice her eyeing my ear, but she doesn't ask. Unlike the rest of the world, she knows I'll talk about it when I'm ready.

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