I don't own My So-Called Life.
Jordan must have started the car because Brian's reflection in the side mirror was getting smaller. I couldn't get my dad's words out of my mind; like what he said about how difficult it was … to be a man.
Jordan was dividing his attention between the road and Angela. She was leaning against the window with one hand against the glass and the other resting in her lap. He became kind of transfixed by the way she was running her thumb across her fingertips as if caressing an invisible strip of silk.
"So, are you hungry?"
I heard him but it was like he was on the other side of this glass divide, and I couldn't answer because he wouldn't hear me or something. I was in an alternate universe where Brian Krakow actually had feelings and Jordan Catalano didn't just want to be friends anymore. Then the car hurtling toward us at the cross roads started to seem right somehow. I wasn't afraid because I wasn't even there.
"Angela!"
Angela felt strong hands on her shoulders pull her down until her face almost came into contact with her knees. She felt Jordan's weight hard against her and heard his sharp intake of breath, which drew her back to reality. It was only a split second before she felt it; the shock from the initial impact resonated through her entire body. There was a screeching noise as the back of the car swung around with such velocity that its journey was only brought to an end by an obliging lamppost. She heard a cry – and then there was silence.
--
Patty picked up the glass and the plate and took them to the sink. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window and wiped a smudge of mascara from beneath her eye. She wasn't sure why she'd cried, but she was almost certain it wasn't because Tony Poul failed to show; he would probably have a beer gut by now anyway. Shaking her head in disbelief at her own absurdity, Patty's thoughts were disrupted by the sound of sirens passing by the house. A dizziness came over her and a fear that she couldn't shake as she tidied away the makings of Jordan's sandwich. Suddenly, without reason, but stirred by an intuition she couldn't explain, she ran out of the house, jumped into her car and made set to follow in the direction of the sirens. She was prevented from starting the ignition by a tapping at the window and the opening of the passenger door.
"Can I come along?"
Brian took Patty's slightly befuddled nod as agreement, so he climbed into the car alongside her. In that moment Patty and Brian each recognised the same inexplicable panic in the other. Patty quickly started the engine.
Not far down the street they came across the scene. At the crossroads where two normally quiet residential streets met the lights of a fire engine, a police car and two ambulances threw an eerie light across the streets and surrounding houses. A small crowd had gathered, mainly of the nearby residents, many of them still in their slippers. Patty and Brian edged forward through the people until Patty caught a glimpse of the red convertible wrapped around the lamppost and spun back in horror, bumping into Brian who was transfixed by the sight. The other car was lying on its roof and firemen were in the process of cutting out the driver. Turning to the red convertible, Brian saw that paramedics were huddled together on the driver's side of the car. Brian jostled for position in the crowd, but his view was still obstructed. Then his attention was drawn by a figure emerging from the back of one of the ambulances. He immediately recognised Angela as she broke away from the paramedic attempting to hold her back and raced to join the group gathered next to the car.
"Angela!"
Patty pushed passed Brian and the two policemen who tried to get in her way. Angela looked up as she approached and stood, allowing herself to be embraced by her mother.
Brian observed Angela's face was cut in several places and her arm had been put in a sling. His view was blocked by one of the policemen who placed a hand on his shoulder, "do you want through son? Is she a friend of yours?"
The policeman stepped aside and offered to let Brian past him. The paramedics beside the car had finally begun to dissipate. Two were left carrying a stretcher; Angela broke away from Patty to follow beside them as they lifted the stretcher into an ambulance, she climbed in after them.
"No. I'm okay,"
The policeman nodded and Brian allowed himself to be pushed back through the crowd, the sight of Angela disappearing down a funnel of people.
--
The emergency room was really busy; it must have been a fight at a wedding reception or something, because the waiting area was full of men in suits with cut faces, and there was a bride with blood on her dress.
Angela waited in silence on a bed surrounded by a curtain. She hadn't tried to go with Jordan into the resuscitation room; she had seen enough hospital dramas to know they never let you in there anyway. She could hear her parents bickering in hushed whispers outside; something about how terrible it was that somebody couldn't even drive down their own street anymore without being in danger. Angela closed her eyes and tried to block out the words - but then heard another voice.
"Angela?"
She opened her eyes and recognised the nurse that had met her when she arrived with Jordan in the ambulance. The nurse had appeared through the side of Angela's curtained bay and Angela was thankful for it because it meant her parents were still bickering - oblivious. The nurse seemed to grasp the situation as she glanced in the direction of Patty and Graham's murmurings before speaking to Angela in conspiratorial tones.
"They've managed to stabilise him,"
The nurse paused as Angela let out a relieved sigh.
"Do you want to see him?"
"Is he awake?"
The nurse shook her head.
--
The resus room was lit with long strip lights across the ceiling, so bright that as Angela entered she was forced to momentarily close her eyes. She imagined that on opening them she might have stepped into another world, or perhaps even back in time. Maybe when she opened her eyes she'd be leaning against her locker watching Jordan laughing with his friends, not even knowing her name. Would she have done things differently? Maybe never even admitted how she felt every time she saw him?
It was incredibly quiet; or at least it was compared to the waiting area and triage. Eventually though, Angela could discern at least one noise - a steady, recurring beep.
She opened her eyes. Monitors surrounded Jordan's bed, his leg was in plaster and a dressing covered part of his chest. A stool had been placed next to the bed. At first Angela just sat there watching him breathing, watching the bedcovers move ever so slightly with each inhalation. A strand of hair lay across his left eye and the urge to move it eventually caused Angela to stand and pull the stool nearer to the bed. It made a screeching noise on the polished floor and she glanced around quickly as if moving a stool had suddenly become a crime. Slowly she reached up and lifted the strand of hair away from his eye gently before retreating back to her seat.
I felt like an impostor, like I had no right to even be there. Worse still I kept finding myself staring at his body. I tried to focus on something else, on the notice board outside with its posters about breast awareness and diabetes. But in spite of everything that had happened – I just wanted to hold him.
Jordan's breathing suddenly because much deeper and his breaths more audible, Angela instinctively pushed the stool back a little and glanced anxiously over at the nurses station outside.
"Angela," quiet and muffled but nevertheless with a distinct urgency, "Angela?"
She stood and placed her hand on his chest, cursing herself and the hormones responsible for her still taking any opportunity to touch him. A nurse rushed in and checked the monitors.
"Mr Catalano, nice to have you back,"
"My chest hurts,"
"It will do honey," the nurse winked at Angela as she moved away to update Jordan's notes.
Angela followed her to the side of the room and spoke quietly, "is he okay?"
"He's doing fine. He's gonna be okay," the nurse wrote something down, then looked up again to see Angela staring across at the bed, "so the two of you are together?" She smiled that smile that grown ups use when they think teenage relationships are cute.
"Sort of. It's complicated,"
The nurse nodded and smiled that smile that grown ups use when they think it's cute how all teenagers see their relationships as 'complicated'.
When the nurse had gone Angela crossed the room back to Jordan's bed and sat down again on the stool. His eyes were closed and Angela half hoped he had fallen back to sleep. He was always so self assured, so confident and strong; to see him lying helpless embarrassed her – though she didn't know why it should.
"Are you okay?"
He didn't open his eyes; he seemed to be concentring on his breathing.
Angela had almost forgotten her own injuries. She felt the cut across above her eye from which the nurse had removed a small piece of glass, and she attempted to move her right arm in its sling but winced at the pain. Then she looked down at the dressing on Jordan's chest. He had been thrown almost through the windscreen and suffered broken ribs, one of which had punctured his lung – they had taken him into surgery straight away.
"I'm okay,"
"Is your arm broken?"
Angela shook her head "I don't think so,"
He smiled knowingly "you'd know if it was. I broke my arm when I was kid, it hurt like hell,"
Jordan found it strangely difficult to keep his eyes open. He had never been the sort of person that needed all that much sleep, but now it was all he could think about doing. It became hard to distinguish whether he was actually awake or already sleeping, the two seemed to blend together into one hazy limbo. He desperately wanted to stay awake; there was so much he wanted to say.
"Angela –'
Angela quickly predicted in her mind the conversation that would follow. Jordan would admit to not writing the letter, she would probably forgive him – she shook her head slightly at the thought – then he would ask if they could be a couple again and she would probably agree. But then there was Brian.
"Let's not talk about this now,"
Jordan frowned slightly, "Talk about what?"
Angela realised she hadn't actually allowed him to say anything. "I don't know,"
"Could you get me a glass of water ?"
With a baffling mixture of emotions rushing through her body Angela forced a smile "sure,"
As she left the room Angela's legs felt weak. It could be shock she supposed, but more than likely it was the confusion and the tension she felt deep down.
"Angela!"
Patty rushed toward her closely followed by Graham.
"There you are, we've been waiting around thinking you were still with the nurse,"
"I was in there," she indicated to the resus room.
Patty's face suddenly turned very serious "how's Jordan?"
"He's awake, I'm just getting him some water,"
The high-pitched strings of a cell phone rang out.
"Dad you shouldn't have that on in here,"
"Graham,"
Graham glanced down at the phone, "it's Hallie. I said I'd let her know how you were. I'll quickly take it outside,"
It worried Patty that he didn't look up at her as he spoke, just turned and disappeared around the corner.
"So I should get this water. You and dad can go home you know, I'll call you when I need picking up,"
"If you're sure,"
Angela nodded. Patty hugged her tight.
Angela watched her mom hurry away after her father; it bothered her how she couldn't let him out of her sight – but at the same time something was telling her that Patty should go after him, something about the way her father took the phone call had set off alarm bells in Angela's mind.
As she approached the resus room the nurse who had been with Jordan was just leaving carrying his notes. She saw Angela, "Good timing, we've moved Jordan down here,"
They arrived at a small side room, the nurse opened the door for Angela and she went inside.
Jordan was awake and sitting up slightly with the help of a stack of pillows. Angela noticed a jug of water and a glass on the drawers next to the bed. She smiled and placed the plastic cup on the drawers anyway before moving around the bed and sitting down in the armchair near the window. She glanced outside and wondered about her parents and Hallie Lowenthal.
"You're really far away over there"
Though it was a small room Angela's chair was still a fair distance away from the bed, "I don't think I should move it,"
"Sit here," he placed his hand on the bed.
Angela hesitated but finally she stood and moved to the bed, sitting down on the edge. She sat facing the window, facing away from him, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. But when she felt his hand on hers she turned to look at him. His face was pale and eyes were slightly red.
"I thought," he began, but had to pause to catch his breath, "I thought maybe we could try again, you know, being not just friends,"
Angela took a deep breath; she really didn't want to have this conversation now. She had wanted to scream at him, ask him why he couldn't be honest with her, why he'd felt the need to ask Brian of all people to write the letter.
I'd known Brian Krakow for as long as I could remember. When we were six I kissed him. It didn't mean anything but now I began wondering whether maybe I had accidentally disturbed the proper flow Brian's life – like a time traveller. I had torn a hole in the fabric of time and now I was being sucked into it.
She couldn't shout at him while he was like this, but nevertheless things needed to be said.
"How can we?"
"Why not?"
"Because it's not real, because it's based on a lie. And if I go along with it and pretend I don't know that it was Brian who that letter, then that's two lies and I won't do that,"
She felt his hold on her hand loosen – then he let go completely and laid his hand back down on the covers. Angela stood and walked back over to the armchair, sitting cross-legged and looking out of the window. She could feel the emotion rising until it settled in a lump in her throat, and she knew she would have to say everything "I mean it's not as if it was ever that good between us was it?"
From the window Angela could see the car park; she watched a couple – the woman heavily pregnant - make their way toward the hospital entrance.
Jordan watched her - studied her - sitting in the chair. Her hair was messier than normal and there was a tear along the hem of her jacket. Her hands lay clasped in her lap and, with her legs crossed, a small amount of pale skin was visible between the bottom of her trouser leg and the start of her sock. He thought back; the night he tried to kiss her outside Brian's house, the time he propositioned her when the rumours were flying, the boiler room, the empty house on Cloverdale, the break up, the letter.
"We're just not compatible," she continued, "we might as well accept it,"
Jordan didn't want to accept it, but he had to admit there was plenty reason for Angela to think it. He had treated her badly – the thought hit him with more force than any car crash.
"I never meant to hurt you,"
As Angela turned she found Jordan looking directly at her; there was sincerity in his face.
"I know. That's the point," she moved back toward the bed and rested her hands on the edge, running her thumb beneath the edge of the sheet; an unconscious action betraying the sensations she still felt at the sight of him. She felt a flutter in her stomach at the thought of how little material there was between her hands and his skin.
"So what do you want to do?" Jordan was watching her hands, acutely aware of how close she was.
"I don't know, stay as we are I guess. Friends,"
The sound of the door opening startled them both. The nurse entered.
"Angela. It's getting kind of late, Jordan needs to sleep,"
Angela moved away from the bed, suddenly conscious of their proximity.
"I'll call my parents,"
"There's a place you can sleep if you want to stay,"
"Thanks, but I should get home,"
The nurse smiled, "we'll look after him,"
The worst thing is when a conversation ends before it's over.
Please review, I love to know what you think xx