For Always (10 page)

I moved toward a wall, trying to blend in and not draw attention to myself. I looked around taking care not to bump into anyone or knock anything over, without really paying attention to the detail of what was around me.

“Avoiding me?”

I heard the voice and knew I imagined it. I knew those words were said to someone other than me. I didn’t even bother to turn and look.

“So now you’re just going to ignore me completely?” He accused.

This time I couldn’t help myself. I had to look. I had to see for myself that it wasn’t . . .

“Jordan!” I threw my arms around him. A gesture he didn’t hesitate to return. A nest of butterflies woke and fluttered with wild abandon in my belly. And I loved the feeling. I missed that erratic pulsating of my heart over the last few months.

I released him a moment later, trying to regain my composure. Jordan’s arm remained slung over my shoulder, just like the night he walked home with us from the movies.

“You look good,” he said leaning in.

“Thanks.” I smiled. I needn’t look in a mirror to know my eyes gleamed when I looked at him. I could feel the shine from the inside out.

“What the hell is this!” Chris shouted from off to the side.

He startled me. I allowed myself to get lost in the moment with Jordan; I forgot all about Chris. I looked at him with what definitely felt like guilt plastered on my face.

Chris moved quick to close the distance between us. He was only a few feet away to begin with, so I had no time to react. Fear struck through me. Each millisecond he got closer, the more terrified I became.

A mask of anger clouded his face. I knew the time had come. I couldn’t put if off any longer. Here and now, I’d end it. Having Jordan standing beside me gave me strength and courage, and most definitely motivation.

Chris leered at me. He reached for my hand and grabbed it in such a violent manner, I stumbled forward.

“Come on,” he ordered.

“Let go of me!” I pulled back, trying to break his hold on my wrist, my face heating up from embarrassment.

His fingers closed tight, like a vice against my skin. And then he twisted. Sharp pain shot through my wrist and up my arm. Tears sprang into my eyes. Frozen from fear, I didn’t make a move.

“Get the hell off her!” Jordan ordered.

“Or what?” Chris snapped back at him.

“Stop! Please!” I pleaded, feeling the weight of the stares around us, wishing I could melt into the rug beneath my feet.

“You want to pick on someone, tough guy? Pick on me!” Jordan stepped up to him, bringing them toe to toe.

Chris let go, ready to take up the fight with Jordan. I swallowed hard not knowing what to do. I didn’t want them to fight because of me. Chris’ eyes were glassy and red, and I thought flying fists were inevitable.

“Break it up guys,” Jasmine pushed her way between them. “If the cops come, we’re all in trouble.”

Neither Chris nor Jordan moved for a few incredibly long moments. I’d been holding my breath, and biting my bottom lip in anticipation. I didn’t expect Chris to come to his senses and back down. I just didn’t see him taking the high road. Jasmine put her hands on Chris’ chest and backed him up a few steps.

“Come on, Stephanie!” Chris called.

I shook my head searching for my voice. “No.” My voice was low and feeble.

“I said come on!” He hissed in a low growl.

I shook my head, digging my fingernails into my palms to stop from crying. Besides the fact that I didn’t want to go with him, I was afraid. After his initial reaction seeing Jordan and I together, I had a terrible feeling in my stomach that he’d take his anger out on me. I had to stand up for myself.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Ever. Again.”

He looked around, finally aware we had become the main attraction. Every pair of eyes in the house was focused on us.

“We’re so done!” He pushed past the spectators and disappeared somewhere toward the back of the house.

Thirteen

Jordan didn’t say a word. Not that I expected him to lecture me in front of everyone, but I thought he’d say something. He took me by the hand and led me out of the house with an air of authority I dare not challenge.

He opened his car door and waited for me to get in. A heavy silence hung between us. He plopped down in the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition, and started the engine. After releasing a long breath, he turned to me.

“He ever hurt you before tonight?” Jordan’s voice sounded deep and harsh, his eyes narrow slits.

I shook my head looking away from him, mortified, as he put the car in gear and pulled away. I slumped down in the seat humiliated. I wanted to disappear.

“Thank you.” I meant to say it loudly. Instead, it came out in a whisper and I wasn’t even sure at first, he heard me.

He nodded. I could tell by what he didn’t say, the situation upset him. I watched the clock on the dashboard certain it stopped moving forward. Each minute seemed to pass three times longer than usual.

“I warned you about him.” He sounded furious. “What if I wasn’t there? What would you have done?”

I didn’t like being reprimanded. My thoughts came in a defensive pattern. I almost blamed it on him. If he didn’t have his arm around me, none of this would’ve happened. And if I didn’t like Jordan so much, there wouldn’t have been an issue because I wouldn’t have looked so guilty.

I knew if I said any of those things he would go from suspecting how I feel about him to being certain. Already feeling weak and defenseless, I couldn’t compromise myself any further.

“I was going to break up with him that night,” I picked at my finger nails.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked in an accusatory manner.

I wanted to bolt out of the car.

Keeping my eyes focused on my nails, I continued. “I found out, just before I saw him, that my grandmother has pancreatic cancer.”

The frustration and anger I’d been feeling came to a boiling point.“It felt better to be with him, than being alone,” I explained.

He let out a long sigh before answering me. “I’m sorry, Stephanie,” He didn’t expect to hear more sickness and darkness around me. I heard an exasperated sadness in his voice. Like he wasn’t sure which emotion he should address because they co-existed as one. “But it’s a part of life.”

He placed his hand on top of mine, offering comfort and support. I turned my head to look out the window. Why was he so kind to me? I didn’t deserve it.

I cleared my throat and gave my head a slight nod. “I know it is. She’s not doing well.”

“Steph, you’re not alone.” He squeezed my hand. “You have friends to help you. You have Maria and me. You don’t need to lower yourself, and be with some pathetic loser, to get through this.”

His words struck me hard, like a rock thrown at my head. I didn’t know what to react to first. I had him? What a joke. Didn’t he realize what I wanted from him wasn’t pity? I know he meant for his words to help, but they stung. The dark void started to spread through me again. All I could do was lash out.

“Lower myself? Really? Who do you think you are, my father?”

“No,” he snapped, “but, speaking of him, I’m surprised he let you go out with Chris at all,” an undercurrent of anger I didn’t understand tinged his voice.

“Yeah, well it’s not like he has a choice, Jordan.” I shot back with all the gusto I could muster, “He’s dead.”

There’s something to be said about the shock factor. That stopped him. I could feel uncertainty oozing off him. He didn’t have a clue what to say or do next.

Jordan’s mouth hung open. Without another word, he pulled the car over and parked under a dark tree.

“Hey,” He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry.”

I stayed in his embrace because there was no place in the world I’d rather be and shrugged, “It’s not like you knew.”

“I didn’t. But still,” I felt his body tense, yet he made no move to release me. “I know what it’s like.” He hesitated. “To not have a father, I mean.”

I knew I couldn’t possibly have heard right. I’d seen him stringing up Christmas lights with his father. Or so I thought. I pulled back to get a good look at him. He let me create the distance, but didn’t let me break contact completely. He took my hand in his. The way my skin singed beneath his touch, warmed my whole body, so different from how I felt with Chris.

“My biological father I mean.” He went on to explain. “He’s not dead,” he hesitated, “but I wish he was.”

“What happened?”

“He left when I was five.” Jordan released my hand and started running his fingers over the bottom of the steering wheel. I watched him, wishing he’d look at me, so I could see the nuances of vulnerability I knew would be in his eyes.

“Apparently I wasn’t the son he thought he deserved.” I heard the resentment in his voice. “Things got bad between my parents. They fought all the time until he upped and left. He never called or visited after that. It’s like he dropped off the face of the earth.”

I wasn’t expecting him to have his own deep pain. Unlike me, he never showed it.

“Do you miss him?”

He sneered, “You don’t miss the whip that lashes you.” His voice was ripe with bitterness.

“Did you ever look for him?” I asked wanting to know every detail. “Maybe you could call or write, and tell him how you feel. Tell him to go to hell or something. I bet it would make you feel better.”

Jordan’s eyes grew dark and angry again. He shot a menacing look my way. “I don’t know where he is and I don’t care.”

I knew better.

I know he wanted me to believe he didn’t care, but his resentment only proved he did. I understood the pain and guilt he kept hidden. And no matter how he wanted to deny it, he did blame himself. I could feel it. But we hit a wall. He wouldn’t say another word about his father.

“At least you can make it better someday. If you want.” I looked down, knowing it was my turn to lay my battered, bleeding heart on the table. “I can’t ever make it better,” I wiped away the single tear that fell from my eye.

“What happened?” he asked.

I considered giving him a rundown of the facts, without the back story. The all-important explanation that no one, not even my mother or Maria knew.

Pain for pain. He shared his, I shared mine, my darkest, most painful secret.

“I was going to bed and my father read to me.” I began, my head still down. “He always did.” A sad smile crossed my lips losing myself for a brief moment in the warmth of the memory.

“Before leaving he pulled a brochure from behind the book. He looked at me, all happy and excited. He wanted me to go to sleep-away camp for the summer.”

I peeked over at Jordan to see if he was even listening. His eyes were glued to me.

“I couldn’t believe he’d even suggest it, you know. He thought it would be a great opportunity, tour the east coast and make new friends. Maria wasn’t going, which he considered ‘making the most of the opportunity.’”

“Sounds like he cared a lot,” Jordan said.

I shrugged, “I guess. But back then, I felt like he wanted to get rid of me, just ship me off somewhere so he wouldn’t have to deal with me.” I hesitated a moment and sniffled, stopping my words before they led to a trail of tears. “I thought he didn’t love me anymore.”

Jordan reached over and smoothed my hair, leaving his hand at the base of my neck. “He loved you Steph, fathers who can’t stand their kids just up and leave.”

“He said he wanted to discuss it when he came home from work the next day. I wouldn’t agree. I mean he already had his mind made up. There was no way I would change it. I didn’t even say goodnight to him. Or tell him I loved him.” I felt my body shivering. “I wanted him to leave and never come back so I didn’t have to go to some terrible camp.” The sniffles were coming steadily now. “When he left my room, I told him I hated him.” I paused, trying to steady my emotions. “The next day he died.”

Jordan looked at me in disbelief. His eyes held mine for a long time. It felt like he was trying to communicate with me telepathically, as if we no longer needed words between us. And then he turned.

“You had nothing to do with your father’s death. You know that, right?”

I shrugged. Sure I knew it in theory. I knew you couldn’t wish people dead, or the entire population would’ve been wiped out. But still, I felt responsible. I caused my father stress and aggravation. I retracted my love, what could sear his heart more?

I knew my father’s death was my fault, the same way Jordan knew he was to blame for being left and forgotten by his father. We both existed in a world in which we needed to keep ourselves emotionally guarded from everyone around us, never sharing the burden of our shame with anyone else.

Until now.

Until this night in which we found each other.

We sat in silence for a while. It wasn’t uncomfortable. This strange new quiet I shared with Jordan held a calm soothing quality. As his hand moved gently down my hair, across my back, a healing wand passed over my spirit. As if a dim glow awakened in the darkest part of my soul, while it fused with Jordan’s.