A Mess of Things
Chapter 2: Forgiving, Forgetting, Foregoing
(edited 8/13/09)
Two years earlier, after the 19th episode, February, 1995.
She stared out the window as I drove away from her house. I'm pretty sure she didn't want to look at me. I mean, she had been talking pretty intensely to Krakow and she's smart; she had to know I didn't write that letter by now. I mean, she knows what I'm able to do; how could she really think I'd written that?
The thing was, I meant it, even if I didn't completely understand what the letter said. Well, at first I mean; once Brain explained, I understood. And the letter fit just like I'd hoped. What I wanted to say was that I need her. I didn't really understand until I'd lost her as even a friend how much she meant to me; how important just talking to her had become. She didn't, like, look down on me when we talked like some other smart girls did; she treated me like, as her equal. And it felt really good. Part of me is pretty sure she'll never trust me again. And I think that same part wants it to stay that way so that I can't hurt her again. But another part just wants her to come back, to care about me again and… I miss her. She's sitting right next to me and I miss her.
I drove aimlessly for a few minutes, the silence only kinda uncomfortable. She's like that, though. Sometimes we could sit for like, hours and not say a word, not even kiss or anything, and it just felt right. But sometimes, I needed to say things to her and I think she, like, knew or something; so the quiet felt like the humming of my amp.
This was one of those times.
So I drove us to this park. It's quiet and no one much comes here so we'd have some time with just to two of us. Used to be, when I was with a girl, all I'd be thinking about was how to get her out of her clothes. And I still think about what sex with Angela might be like, like all the fucking time. But, somehow I'm not like, totally driven by it. Yeah, I want her, like a hell of a lot. But I also want her to trust me; I want her to stay with me, you know? I want to like, know her.
Thing is, a guy like me, I'm not sure I've really got the right to have something like that. But I want it.
I parked and stared out the windshield, feeling her eyes on me now. I closed my own eyes and sighed, not really looking forward to this conversation. I knew I'd hurt her and I knew that there wasn't any kind of excuse for what I'd done. The best I could hope for was that she let me apologize. At worst, she'd tell me to fuck off and never speak to me again. That first option looked real good. I opened my eyes and turned to her; I could see all kinds of emotions in her eyes but I didn't quite understand them.
She was upset and I needed to ease into this, start out simple. "I met your mom today," I said. It was the first thing to come to my mind.
"You said something about that earlier," she said curiously.
"Yeah, I came over to talk to you but you weren't there. She let me in and talked to me. We sat in your kitchen for like, a really long time. She asked me a lot of questions." I was fidgeting a bit, I knew it, but I was still like, really nervous and her staring at me wasn't helping much. "She's really nice."
Angela smiled a bit. "Yeah, everyone's always saying that. But like, I'm the one who argues with her all the time." She was fidgeting too, playing with the hem of her shirt. I watched as she chewed on her bottom lip and pushed her hair behind her ears; she always did that when she was thinking hard about something or was nervous. "So like, what did you two talk about? What questions did she ask you?"
"Well, we mostly talked about you. I mean, I told her like, some about myself, you know? Like where I live and that kinda thing." I shrugged. There didn't seem to be any point in hiding what we'd talked about; I'd never lie to Angela anyway. "She asked about when we were dating and why you were like, upset lately. And I told her about the letter."
"What did you tell her about the letter?" Her voice shook a little and I knew that someone had either told her outright or she'd guessed before I could tell her the truth myself.
"That I didn't write it. That I asked Brain to help me because I couldn't say what I needed to on my own. I told her about what happened between me and Graff and everything." I looked at her closely. "Do you remember what I told you, Angela? I don't lie. I told her all about it and about the reason I need to talk to you." She nodded and looked down at her hands, but I knew she was still listening. "I even told her why I couldn't write it, why I had to ask Brain to write it for me."
"Okay."
"I didn't write that letter and I feel really bad about letting you think I did. I'm not like, good with words, you know? I mean, I can like, write a song, but not a paragraph. So while like, I meant everything that letter said, I wasn't the one who wrote it. I wanted to try to explain how I feel and I couldn't come up with the right words on my own." She opened her mouth to say something but I put my finger against her lips. God, they were so fucking soft! I just wanted to kiss them again, lick them, bite them until she moaned and… I shook my head and tried to concentrate.
"I know you know," I continued. "I did see you talking to Krakow when I came up to you outside your house and I know you were talking to him about the letter. I just needed to make sure you heard my side, too. You're really smart, Angela, and I knew you would figure it out. I'm really sorry I didn't get to tell you this morning, but I did like, try pretty hard. Then, when you kissed me, it was kinda hard to think of anything else." I took my finger off her lips and ran that hand through my hair, watching as she bit her lower lip. "So like, if you want me to take you home, I will. But I want you to know that I'm sorry; like really, really fucking sorry. I'm a jerk and I totally don't deserve you, but I like… I can't get you out of my head, Angela! And then I went and totally fucked everything all up. What I did with Graff, it was wrong, and we both…
"I can't even look at her now! I like, never liked her much to begin with but now it's like, I did this stupid and unforgivable thing with her and it's kinda made both of us miserable. And that's really weird because sex has never made me miserable before, ever. It's always been fun. But it really wasn't this time. And when I realized what I'd really done- Angela, I'm so sorry. Sorry doesn't even begin to cover it. I knew you'd figure the letter out, but I needed to get you to talk to me again so I could tell you, explain what had happened and all that. So, I'm sorry about that too. And…" she looked up and I met her eyes fully. For a second, it was like I couldn't breathe.
"It took me a while but, I figured something out in English a while back when you were out. See Kitimski was reading this poem and in it, the guy was talking about this girl. She wasn't gorgeous or anything like that, but he loved her. Because she was like, real. She didn't need to be a super model or anything like that; she just needed to be herself. And it made me think of you. To me, you're really beautiful, but it's not just because of the physical stuff like your face or your skin or anything like that. And it's kinda funny because, I mean, physically you are really beautiful. But the way I feel about you doesn't have a lot to do with that. It's kinda more because you're… so real. You're special just because you're you. And it made me really think about how I feel about you. And that made me realize that- I need you. Angela, I've never really needed anyone and I need you more than I'm really comfortable with. So, yeah. If you want, I'll take you back home and you don't have to talk to me again. But I want you to know that I really want to be with you, however you're willing to."
She frowned and looked away from me and this fear rose up inside me. She was gonna tell me to go fuck myself, I was sure. I could just hear it: Sure, you need me. You need me so much you fucked my best friend! Fuck off, Jordan Catalano.
But that wasn't what she said.
"Jordan, I… That letter really made me happy, you know? And yeah, it is one of the main reasons I'm talking to you now. And I'm… really glad I am talking to you. I missed you. And the things you just said to me… It means a lot, Jordan. I'm really glad you were able to tell me you feel that way. It makes me feel really special. And if you had just been able to say that instead of getting Brian to write that letter, I still would have forgiven you. Hearing that in your own words means more to me, really. And no, you don't have to take me home. We can talk. But I'm also like, really confused now."
"Confused about what?"
"See, I've like, forgiven you already, you know? I kinda forgave you as soon as you apologized yesterday. It's sometimes hard for me to stay mad at you, even when I really want to. And I really wanted to, Jordan." There were tears in her eyes and it tore at my heart. "You hurt me. But I haven't forgiven Rayanne yet and I, um, don't know if I really can, even when she does apologize. If she apologizes.
"Yeah, you, a guy I dated but didn't sleep with, slept with my best friend. But somehow, it's worse that she, the best friend I thought of as a sister, slept with you. And I don't know if I can like, be with you right now, either. I'm still like, angry and hurt inside and I don't know how to get over it. The weird thing is I still want to be near you, to talk to you and just sit and be with you. And it hurts so much! It hurts to even want it."
"Angela, I didn't mean to hurt you…"
"But you did! What the hell were you thinking, Jordan?" She finally screamed at me and I could see tears streaming down her face. "How could you do something like that? Do you have any idea how much it hurts?" I reached out to wipe her tears and she batted my hand away. "Don't touch me! I can't let you touch me right now! Not after what you- who you… did. Why? Why, Jordan? Why did you do that? How could you?"
I had to close my eyes; thinking of the night I had sex with Graff hurt. Not just because of what happened with Angela after, but because I'd been in such a low place because of how I felt about her. Being "just friends" with her had been hard, harder than anything I'd ever done. It wasn't just that I wanted her body, which I did, a lot; I also wanted… I wasn't quite sure what the hell it was I wanted. But it was more than just sex. A lot more. Everything was different with Angela, everything.
That night, I'd been drinking to try to get her out of my head and it really wasn't working. The more I drank, the more I saw her in my mind. She was just so innocently beautiful. The way she smiled and it lit up her whole body, or when the smile was fake and it looked more like she was in pain. I remember Rayanne talking about her, about how innocent and easy to care about she was.
Even as fucked up as I had been that night, I had known that what I was doing was wrong and sick. I don't even like Rayanne; she's too much like me. But for a moment, it was a way for us to get what we both wanted; Graff got a chance to pretend she was Angela and I got to have her. When I kissed Rayanne, she was Angela in my mind. When I opened the door and followed her into the back seat, I was thinking about Angela. And I thought about Angela through the whole thing; from the moment my hands touched skin to the moment I pulled away. It was all for Angela. I think I even said her name as I came. I was disgusted with myself. She should be disgusted with me. I was afraid to tell her, but she'd asked and I don't lie.
"I knew it was wrong. I knew even while I was doing it, that it was wrong. I was thinking about how much I missed you," I whispered. "Remember in the car when I told you to stop doing my homework?" She nodded. "I was angry. Because I was thinking that I didn't like being 'just friends' with you. I like, suck at it. 'Cause I want to be more than just your 'friend'. It's not just about sex, either. You're like, more than that to me." She was still crying, but there wasn't much I could do about it right now. This was just going to get worse.
"At Louie's, I was drinking because I wanted to stop thinking about you. But I couldn't. The more I drank, the more I thought about you. Everything made me think of you. And Graff was there, already drunk as hell, and she started talking to me about you and how she felt like, less than you or soemthing. So she like, gave me her flask and I drank the whole damn thing. And it didn't stop it. I was drunk and she was drunk and we were both still thinking and talking about you.
"Through the whole thing, I thought about you. And I know that's wrong and what I did makes me sick. I'm pretty sure Graff feels sick about it too. I know she doesn't like me much; she kinda just tolerated me for your sake. She always like, called me out on it when she thought I wasn't treating you right. And I don't know if she'll still do that, or if I even need her to anymore. Making things right with you is all that really matters to me right now. And I'm kinda beginning to understand what the right things to do are. I think.
"I know it sounds fucked up, especially after- you know, but Angela, she cares about you a hell of a lot. I think she missed you more than she let on and that she's more like, jealous of you than she wants to say. I hate being the reason your friendship fell apart." Angela was crying really hard now, but really quiet, like she didn't want anyone to hear. I wanted to touch her; to hold her and tell her I'd never hurt her again.
"It had been falling apart for a while, really." She tucked her hair behind her ears again and hunched her shoulders up. She looked really small and vulnerable. "Neither one of knew how to fix it and we both hated it. But I don't get it, Jordan. Why would she be jealous of me?" she sobbed.
"Because you have all these things she doesn't, Angela," I whispered to her, wanting to hold her more than ever. "Things I don't really have either."
"Like what?"
"Like two parents who take care of you and love you. A home you're never afraid to go to. Innocence. Some faith that you're actually going to do something worthwhile with your life someday. People who love you and stand by you no matter what. People who look out for you and who tell you when you're making a mistake." I put my hand on her shoulder and let it lay there. Her head tilted towards it and I felt her hair brush my hand. "Your parents are really good people, you know? You're lucky."
"Not as lucky as you think. I think my dad's having an affair and I think Mom knows it," she whispered. Great, I thought, hell of a time to betray her, Jordan. Hell of a time for Graff to betray her, too.
"Shit happens. He's still around and he still loves you." I frowned, hating how harsh I sounded. "Did Graff know?"
"Yeah." I remembered that her dad was thinking about opening a restaurant and Angela thought her mom wasn't all that happy about it. I wondered if there was more to it than just a restaurant. She looked off through the windshield and I felt like pulling her closer. But I didn't. I didn't want her to push me away again.
She'd pushed me away the first two times I'd tried to kiss her and it was the weirdest thing ever. Seriously, like, no girl had ever really pushed me away before; it totally surprised me. And I didn't get it then. I'm not sure if I get it now even, but I'm willing to try to understand. She's a lot less experienced than any girl I've ever been with and I'm not always sure she really understands what we're doing. But the way she looked at me kept telling me she wanted me and I got all confused when she'd push me away. It was just… weird. I let her, of course. I mean, I know I'm a jerk, but I'm not a monster. Seducing a girl is one thing, forcing her is something completely different. I keep thinking though, that maybe whatever it is that she needs from me, I can figure it out this time. Maybe I can be what she needs. Cause she's definitely what I need.
Her voice was really quiet when she spoke again. "Jordan? What did you mean about my having things that you and Rayanne don't? I mean, I know Rayanne's mom, so like I know it's like, not the best situation. But like… you… You never talk about your family. I don't know if you have any siblings or even if your parents are together."
I sighed. I'd tried to keep my home life away from her; never having her over to my house (though I couldn't really help it that one time she just showed up), never letting her meet my dad. And I never talked about my mom. I'd mentioned Angela to her, the last time she'd called, like two weeks ago. But all I really told her was that I was "kinda into this one girl" and had left it at that. I was still wary with her sometimes. I wasn't quite sure what to tell Angela about her either so I decided to just give her the bare facts.
"I've got a younger half-sister somewhere in California. My mom left my dad when I was twelve. She kinda left right from the hospital and couldn't find a way to get me out too, or I wouldn't be here. My old man used to beat on her a lot; he broke her ribs once, a few bones in her wrist another time. The last time, he broke her nose. I think it was like, the last straw or something. I was just a kid and I couldn't really do anything so he knocked me around, too. Last time he tried to hit me, I was fourteen and I threw a chair at him. He's kinda too scared to do much of anything to me now." I didn't want to look at Angela when I told her, but I forced myself to keep my eyes on hers. She had this really scared, upset look and more tears were spilling down her face. "Ange, please don't cry about it. It was a long time ago and I'm okay. I spend more time out of the house than in it, especially when he's not at work. So yeah, I am kinda jealous of you for your parents, but I know no one is perfect."
"I'm sorry. Thank you for telling me." She took a deep breath and reached out to take my hand. "Listen, Jordan, I do forgive you. It does still hurt, but I want to at least be around you. I've missed you too much to just throw you out of my life. But the letter just made things a bit more complicated."
"What do you mean?"
She frowned and bit her lower lip. I squeezed her hand a little tighter to encourage her. "Brian used you just as much as you used him, in a different way and it's kinda, like, confused things even more for me."
"Angela, I don't understand. I mean, I know he's got a thing for you. It's kinda obvious, you know. A guy doesn't let a girl take advantage of him like you do unless he's got a reason. He let you borrow his bike to come see me. So, it's like when I let you drive my car? You seriously think that I would have let you if I didn't like, want you?" I frowned at how that sounded. "Wait, that didn't come out right." I thought for a minute, stroking the soft skin on the back of her hand. "How about this: I'd let you take advantage of me like that, Angela. It's like, yeah, I do want you, like your body. It's not really something I can really help; I'm a guy. But I also want… I need- you. Like, who you are as like, a person. Not that I understood that when we were actually dating."
She laughed a little and sighed, looking sad. "You know, I'm not exactly good at being just your friend either." Her voice was a whisper, soft and sexy.
"Oh? Really? You seemed pretty good at it to me." I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, but I knew I'd failed when she smiled sadly at me.
"Not at all," she whispered. "I've been kinda, like, obsessed with you for a really long time. If it weren't for Rayanne, I think I would have kept obsessing about you from afar. She tried to make things more real for me. Not that I really understood how to deal with that, obviously. And then when we were 'just friends', I still like, wanted you. I wanted to like, hold your hand, kiss you, touch you. I still want to. And I've always wanted like, more than that too. I'm just scared. And I'm terrified you're going to break my heart again."
"I'm seriously going to do my best not to." I leaned closer to her and held her hand tighter. "But you're kinda avoiding my question, Angela. And I'd like an honest answer. I never lied to you and I don't want to be lied to. You still haven't told me how the letter makes things more confused."
"Because, it makes Brian a safer choice for me." She started to cry again and it was killing me. Her words were killing me too. Brian? She could do that? She could- Of course she could. I'd done worse to her. She had history with him too, had known him since they were kids. There were things between them that I couldn't compete with and I knew it. She started kinda babbling and I knew she could tell I was upset.
"Not that he can't be just as much of a jerk as any other guy in his own weird way. He was the one who spread the rumor about us having sex earlier in the year. And he's the reason I know about you and Rayanne." Crap, that was him? Yeah, we were going to have a serious talk, Brain and me. In a way, it was part of what had brought Angela and me together, so I wasn't too pissed. But I was definitely angry. He called himself her friend and still said something like that about her? The thing with Graff I could understand, kinda; he'd wanted to protect her, to show her what I was capable of doing. But I was just as angry at him about the things he was capable of doing to Angela.
"Jordan, it's just that Brian is a safer choice now because his feelings for me are stronger than mine for him." She was still crying and her eyes had a desperate look, like she was scared and trying hard not to show it. "He can't hurt me because I don't care that much. Which is like, the total reverse of our situation! I can't hurt you because you don't care as much about me as I do about you."
I almost dropped her hand. I couldn't believe she'd just said that; I could barely breathe. "Fucking hell, Angela!" I nearly shouted at her. "Do you seriously think you can't hurt me? Didn't I just like, tell you how much fucking things up with you did hurt me? How much I care about you? More than my fucking pride, that's for damn sure. I asked your neighbor to write a fucking love letter to you for me! A guy I knew was obsessed with you! A guy I had thought could be better for you than me, though now I'm not so sure about that." I muttered the last bit under my breath, still angry at what I'd heard.
"You know, the first time he tutored me I made a deal with him that if he'd help me get better at the whole reading thing, I'd help him learn how to pick up girls. Anything to keep him away from you." I refused to blink as I stared into her eyes, willing her to really listen to me, like she used to. "God damn it, Angela! I have never, ever felt this way about anyone. I swear I'm more confused than you in this. I know I've messed up, I know I've hurt you, and I don't want to do it again. Please, give me another chance. I need you, Angela. You've totally changed my life, in all kinds of strange ways. And I promise that you don't feel more for me than I do for you."
"Jordan-" I didn't let her finish. And anyway, wasn't it kinda my thing to interrupt her with a kiss? I was through with keeping my distance from her. Like that first time I'd kissed her, I nearly threw my self onto her side of the car, covering most of her body with mine. And I kissed her.
God, her lips were just the same, soft and sweet. It was hell to just kiss her and not put my hands all over her. I put everything I had into that kiss; all the feelings that were crashing around inside me, all the want and need I felt for her, all the frustration and fear, all the passion, lust and love. And it was definitely love. But I didn't know how to say something like that so I just kept kissing her. She pushed me back a bit, but I wasn't as able to let her this time. Then I felt her kiss me back.
It was like fireworks and driving fast. I could taste the tears on her lips and licked them off. One of my hands was in her hair and the other supported us against the door; the feel of her body against me was like heaven. She was so small and fragile; even though she'd gotten about an inch taller since I first met her, she still barely reached my chin. I could feel her hands, so small, clutching my shirt. All I could concentrate on was the feel of her lips on mine, the slide of our tongues, the small noises she made as she gasped for air against my mouth. I leaned back against my own door and pulled her with me, her body sprawling out over mine. Her weight wasn't much but I felt it through my whole body. My hands moved from her hair to her back and I pressed her closer to me. As I pressed against the middle of her back, she arched against me a bit, a moaning sigh escaping her lips. I took advantage of how close her neck was, kissing and sucking lightly on it, nipping at her, but not enough to leave a mark.
She whispered my name and finally pulled back, shaking and panting. I wasn't doing much better. "Too much, too fast," she whispered, her voice a bit husky. I nodded and relaxed my grip on her, trying to calm down a bit. "I guess that answers the question of where we go from here," she sighed. "I can't resist you, Jordan. I don't want to. And… I need you, too," she whispered.
"So we're like, a couple or something?" I couldn't keep the grin off my face.
"I guess. Maybe. Do you want to be?" She had her shoulders scrunched up and had pulled her feet up on the seat in front of her, wrapping her arms around her knees. I pushed her hair from her face and she looked up at me. I knew she was scared and I wanted to do anything I could to stop that.
"I've never really been someone's like, boyfriend," I whispered to her, fingers still in her hair. It was satiny and cool as the strands slipped through my fingers.
"You were my boyfriend not too long ago," she whispered, a sad half-smile on her face. "If that short a time even counts. I'm not sure if I'm really ready for you to be my boyfriend again. My head is all confused and my heart's a bit angry and I don't know how I'll be in a relationship. I do know that I'm a long way off from being ready for sex, even if I do kinda want to. I'm just warning you now; you might be dealing with some… frustration for a while. I'm sorry." I shook my head and nearly laughed. She was sorry? Hell, she'd forgiven me for one of the worst things I could ever do to her. If I wanted to be with her, I was going to have to go by her rules. She wanted to put off sex until she felt she was ready, then that's what we'd do. It was safe to say I wanted to be with her pretty badly.
"Well, first off, I'm not counting that time 'cause I sucked at being your boyfriend. Like really bad. I was a selfish asshole. I'm going to try to be better this time. And second… that's okay if you're not ready. So don't be sorry. There's nothing for you to be sorry for. Yeah, I seriously want you. But I also seriously want you to want me. You know what I'm saying?"
"Kinda."
"I don't want you to like, regret us being together. So like, you knowing what you want is like, important. That doesn't mean I'll stop trying to seduce you. No way, that's way too much fun." She raised an eyebrow at me. "It just means I'll try not to be so like, pushy or like, asshole-ish about it. It's taken me a while to understand this, babe."
"It seems like a simple concept to me." I winced at the sharpness in her tone.
"It is. But I'm also kinda new to the whole relationship thing. It's like this; I've never wanted to be with the same girl for long before, 'cause I was never like, emotionally involved, you know? But with you it's different. Because I like you. Like, a lot. As a girl and as a person and it's really weird for me. All this figuring you out and what you need from me or what you're thinking is pretty confusing. And I've never wanted to do it before, you know? It's like, I've been with all these girls but I've never like, gotten to know them. When a girl started getting like, demanding, I'd move on, no hard feelings, you know? And this is different from that. So we'll get to figure this kind of thing out together."
"Why not?" I looked at her confused for a second. "Why weren't you interested in getting to know any of the girls you've… slept with?" She blushed and her voice trailed off, real quiet.
"I'm not sure." And I really wasn't. Why didn't I want to know any of those girls I'd slept with? There hadn't been as many as most people said, but there had been enough that I was seeing a pattern. "I mean, they're all like, really different from you, but there has to be more to it than that." She looked at me curiously for a moment.
"Different how?"
I thought about it for a minute, thought really hard. All of a sudden, the difference was really clear. I knew why I cared about her, why I couldn't stop thinking about her, why I'd started to need her.
"Well, for one they were kinda like, slutty. I mean, I guess you could say I'm kinda slutty too, you know? And you? You're not." I shrugged. "For another, you like, care. About me."
"Like none of those girls ever cared about you-" I could hear the kinda angry tone in her voice, like she didn't believe me and I cut her off.
"But they didn't," I insisted. "Or if they did, I never knew. And it never mattered much to me 'cause I never knew the difference. I mean, all they really wanted from me was sex. And I was fine with that because it was what I wanted, too. Everything else kinda got in the way. But you-" Her eyes were so green; even in the low light I could see how pretty they were. "Like I said, you're not that kind of girl. And I kinda forgot about that. Angela, honestly, you're the reason I'm still in school. If you hadn't cared enough to say something to me, say anything to me, I'd have let them kick me out. And it's not the just school thing, either. You listen to me when I talk, like you really listen. And you don't ignore the things I care about, you care too. And you talk to me; I mean, really talk to me. Not just about what I'm into, either. You talk to me about all the things you care about and expect me to care too." I pulled closer to her and leaned my forehead against hers.
"So I do care. I care about your dad's restaurant idea and your mom's nagging. About your sister being a brat and the geometry homework being hard. And about how you're talking to your one friend again and that weird guy you hang out with seems to like her too and so he spends hours with you two in the girls' room. And I care about your weird neighbor, even if he is kind of an asshole. Angela, what I'm trying to say here is like, I care about you. There are all these things that make up parts of who you are and I want to know all of it." I held my breath, waiting for her to say something, do something. For all that I would deny it, I was opening my heart to her. She was worth that, worth the fear of that kind of rejection. And I wanted her to know that. I wanted to pull her even closer, though I wasn't sure that was possible right now.
But then something happened. And it wasn't something that I had expected.
I felt her breath, warm and moist on my mouth, and then felt her lips softly brush against mine. She was trembling, our skin barely touching; then she sucked in a deep breath and pushed her lips firmly to mine. She'd started kisses between us before, but this felt like something else. Something was happening here that I wasn't sure I understood but I was damn sure I wanted.
Her lips were like silk, soft and smooth against my skin; they moved against mine as she grabbed my shirt with her hands. I felt her knees unfold and part beneath me and I pulled myself between them, wanting to get as close to her as I could. She wrapped one of her legs around my waist, laying back on the seat as I settled on top of her and she opened her mouth to me. I held my weight on one arm as the other went to her side, pulling her hips tight against mine. This was the closest she had ever let me get and I was determined not to disappoint her; she was trusting me.
My right hand left her hip and moved to her face, her cheek warm and soft beneath my fingertips. I tried to be gentler than I'd ever been before. My fingers traced the shape of her cheek and slid softly down her neck. I let my thumb glide along her jaw as she sighed against me. She was… everything to me in that moment.
There was no way to say it in words, so I tried to tell her in other ways. I knew my heart was hammering and I thought I could feel hers too. Whispering her name against her lips, I trailed my right hand down her back, pulling her as close as I could. One of her hands was in my hair and the other had snaked its way under my jacket and had fisted itself in my shirt near my shoulder blade. She broke away to breathe and I kissed my way down her neck. Her neck had to be one of the sexiest things ever; I couldn't ever get enough of how soft her skin was, how she leaned into my hand or lips when I slid them along it. Her scarf kept me from going any further, which was probably a good thing. I made my way back up to her lips leaving open mouthed kisses along her jaw to her lips. She slipped her tongue into my mouth and I couldn't help but groan at the feel. When she arched against me a bit and ground her hips against mine, it was all I could do to keep my hands from straying into forbidden territory; even with her coat in the way, they itched to palm her breasts and ass. Thin ice, Jordan, I told myself, thin fucking ice. I wanted to touch all of her but I needed to keep controlled. I really wanted to justify her trust in me.
It hurt like hell, but after a few minutes, I pulled back a few inches. I wanted her, badly. And with her body pressed so close to mine, I knew she could feel it. We were both panting and I closed my eyes and kissed her one more time before breathing deep and speaking, a bit hoarsely.
"I should get you home."
She blinked at me for a moment and I thought she was disappointed. Then she smiled at me. It wasn't just a smile; she was beaming. I pulled away and sat back in the driver's seat, holding her hand. She stared at me the whole way back to her house, her fingers laced with mine and that beautiful smile plastered on her face.
And I knew I'd done the right thing.
After I'd dropped Angela off, and said good night to both her parents (they'd been waiting at the door), I stared at the house across the street for a long time. I may not be as smart as Angela or Brian, but I'm not actually dumb either. And I knew that was how Brian saw me, dumb as a fucking brick. Playing dumb had gotten me pretty far a few times but I knew now that it wasn't something I could do forever. Being with Angela made me want to be smarter; I wanted to be able to talk to her about all the wonderful things that went on her in mind. To do that, I'd have to work pretty hard, but I was okay with that. I could work hard on my car and my music; I could do this too.
But before I could do that, before I could really start working for something like that, I'd have to come to an understanding with Brian. After this whole mess, I wasn't sure how to feel about the whole tutoring thing with him, if he was still even willing to tutor me. He might not be, considering that while he'd written the love letter, I'd still gotten the girl. And then there was the fact that he'd been the one to spread the rumors about us in school. Things were going to be different. Angela was important to me, even if I wasn't able to say how much. And it seemed that she was important to Brian, too, important enough for him to risk writing that letter. Important enough for him to risk exposing himself like that. But there would be a weird sort of tension in the tutoring sessions now and I wasn't sure how I was going to deal with it.
I knew I needed to talk to him and soon. He needed to be set straight on a few things. I didn't want him like, messing with Angela anymore. Enough was enough, you know?
It was sort of funny, you know, kind of ironic. Angela said she'd been really obsessed with me, that she'd watched me and wanted me before she'd met me. And I'm pretty sure I'm not who or what she was imagining I'd be. I'm not who or what I'd like to be. But she's still with me, even after I disappointed her in the worst way. I don't think it's because of some weird obsession. I think there's something more to us.
Brian really is obsessed with Angela; with who he thinks she is, who he thinks she should be. And while he's known her forever and thinks he knows her really, really well, I don't think he really knows her as quite well as he thinks he does. I'm not sure I know her all that well either, but I want to. And I'm not going to try to get her to like, be who I think she is, because she deserves better than that.
A/N:
I do not own Jordan Catalano. My husband would be quite un-happy with me if I did. Nor do I own Angela Chase. He might not be so displeased with that.
Yes, this is a bit jumbled. It's on purpose. I think that Jordan's head is a bit of a mess, not just because of some emotional trauma, but he's a bit of… His mind is all over the place. He's not dumb but he might be a bit ADD. Angela's POV will be much more… orderly.
One of the great things about writing this is where it takes place. Angela and the gang are supposed to live in a semi-distant suburb of Pittsburgh, PA. Which, it just so happens is where yours truly was born. Now, I lived there, just outside the city until I was three and then we started moving a lot. My move to Colorado was my 10th interstate move. However, one of those moves took me to Pittsburgh in the late 1990's. I attended Carlow College for the 98'-99' school year and lived with my grandmother in Edgewood. I passed the Pitt Campus every day on my way to school (as well as Carnegie Mellon) and lived within walking distance of the cemetery that Night of the Living Dead was filmed in. Oh! And one night while my friends and I were very drunk we harassed the crew filming a Robert Downy Jr. film a block off Friendship. That's the closest I've gotten to meeting a celebrity. Yeah. We left before the cops came.
Anyway, all that really means is that I've got a little inside knowledge of what Pittsburgh was like for a young adult in the late 90's. I couldn't get into Lava Lounge (I was only 19 and was quite honest, no fake ID) and the Beehive was often off limits (it was a bar/coffee shop in the university district. Most nights it was 21 and over except for Rocky Horror night!) but I did find a lot of fun things to do. And not all of them included alcohol or weed… though quite a few of them did, seeing as it was 1998 and most of my friends were stoners. It was hard to be an angst ridden poet and NOT be surrounded by potheads in those days. Well, at least it was for me.
A/N2:
I needed to fix a few things. Little ones, but they were, I think, important. Sorry for the over-post. I'm one of those people who want to post things like, asap, but then decides later that what I wrote sucks and I need to fix it.
