Sorry it's been quite a while since the last update. I had exams but I also spent ages trying to decide where to take this next, this seemed like the logical next step so I hope you like it. This chapter and the next were originally going to be one but it would have been too long, my random ramblings saw to that, so here's two instead xxx
Angela didn't visit Jordan at the weekend. When she arrived home on Monday Patty knocked on her bedroom door and asked if she wanted a lift to the hospital – "no," came the reply. On Tuesday Patty knocked again but found Angela too busy catching up on some English homework. The following Tuesday she arrived home from work to find her daughter reading at the kitchen table. Lifting the bag of groceries she had collected on the way home from work on to the worktop, Patty debated whether it was worth her trying again.
"I've got twenty minutes until I have to meet Camille, do you want a lift to the hospital?" Patty attempted to sound nonchalant as she began to unpack the groceries, "it's been nearly two weeks,"
"Twelve days," came the swift reply.
Since their discussion the night of the aborted cinema trip Patty had watched as her daughter threw herself into school work, preparation for the Our Town play, and even housework. Anything, seemingly, to keep her mind off Jordan, "so do you want me to take you or not?"
Angela turned the page of the magazine with the pretence of reading it, "I'm kinda tired,"
Patty quickly weighed up whether or not to push a little further, but knowing Angela her efforts would most likely have the opposite affect than that desired.
--
The house was quiet; Angela guessed everyone was asleep though she hadn't actually looked to see what time it was. She had been lying on her bed since Patty left to meet Camille and had heard the front door open on her return. Shortly after she heard her father arrive home from the restaurant, bringing with him Danielle who had been at a friend's house.
It's kind of like a jigsaw of a beautiful landscape or something. But there's a piece missing. And without it the whole picture just looks wrong.
Angela focuses on a small nick in the paintwork on her ceiling from when she and Sharon had been pretending to clean the room as kids, and Angela had accidentally hit the ceiling with the handle of the broom.
But then I start to think of the people who search their whole lives for perfection in a person, and never find it. How they spend their lives alone.
Angela reaches over to her bedside table and takes the letter out of the top drawer. She must have read it hundreds of times, even after she found out it was Brian who had actually written it. In truth in had become insignificant who had written the letter, it wasn't Jordan, that's all that mattered. The letter had taken on almost a life of its own, it was the "what could have been," the "if only," the ideal, the perfect.
Suddenly Angela became aware of how hungry she was, she hadn't eaten since lunch and even then it had only been an apple and half a sandwich.
The kitchen was dark and Angela stubbed her toe on the doorframe before she had a chance to turn on the light.
Isn't it strange how different rooms seem at night? Like they take on this whole different persona, and anything becomes possible.
The knock at the door broke the silence with such suddenness that Angela jumped and nearly dropped the bread she was carrying. She glanced up at the clock, 12.30. A shiver of fear ran down her spine and she quickly ran through the options of turning off the kitchen light – it was too late they already knew someone was up. Running upstairs – what if they broke down the door? The knock came again and she crept on tiptoes toward the back door. As she peeled back the blind covering the window she revealed a familiar face, yet still the last she would have expected to see. She opened the door.
"Hey,"
"What are you doing here?" Angela stepped aside as she spoke and pulled Jordan by the arm indoors, wanting to get him out of the cold night air. He looked quite pale, but much better than the last time she saw him. "Why did you leave the hospital?" she guided him toward the table. He was limping a little due to the injury to his leg and Angela intended to have him sit down to rest it. Instead, her hand made its way from his arm to come to rest against his chest, as if by it's own accord. "What are you doing here?" she repeated absentmindedly, almost breathless, as his scent and the feel of the sweater he wore beneath her fingers gradually caused her senses to abandon her. Before she knew it she had closed the space between them and placed a kiss on his lips. She felt an arm encircle her waist and another snake around her shoulder, the hand resting against the centre of her back holding her with some force against his warm body as Jordan responded to her kisses. Angela's hands moved up into Jordan's hair and she held herself against him, savouring the feel of his arms surrounding her, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be as close to him as possible and for him to take absolute control.
The kiss had taken Jordan by surprise. In fact, he was surprised that she had let him in to the house at all. He was sure he could feel a pain in his chest, but was uncertain as to whether it was due to his injuries or because his heart was beating so fast. He could feel Angela pushing against him; even one of her feet was resting on his with her knee brushing against his leg in a rhythm that was almost too much, coupled with the fact he could feel through her nightshirt that she wasn't wearing a bra. The idea that her panties might be similarly absent flashed an image through his mind in a nanosecond that caused him to groan. He felt Angela's hand leave his hair and travel down his side, taking hold of the bottom of his sweater. Certain that if her hand were to touch his skin he would totally loose control, much as it pained him, Jordan forced himself to pull away. "Wait,"
"Oh my God," Angela turned away completely and took a few steps toward the sink, pushing her hair back with both hands, "what was I thinking, you're hurt. I shouldn't have-,"
"No. Angela that's not why I-,"
Angela rested both palms on the work surface either side of the sink facing out of the window. Jordan moved slowly toward her, settling just behind "why didn't you come see me?"
Angela didn't dare turn to look him in the eye, "I don't know, I guess because I was afraid,"
"Of what?"
Angela could feel his breath against her neck. Ever since the night of the crash, when she had walked into the resus room and seen him lying there, all she could think of was how much she wanted to be near him. She turned, resting back against the worktop. Jordan took a step closer; she could feel the heat from him.
"How did you get here? I mean, you should be in the hospital,"
Jordan shook his head, "my dad brought me home. They say I gotta take it easy but-,"
"Take it easy? Like rest? Like put your feet up? Like probably not creep around in the middle of the night in nothing but your-," Angela averted her gaze from the inappropriate direction that she suddenly, to her embarrassment, found it focussed.
Jordan smirked at the pink blush that covered her cheeks.
"So your dad's home?" she quickly changed the subject.
"Yeah,"
Jordan leant even closer, if that was even possible considering how close he was already standing "are your parents upstairs?"
Angela let out a stifled laugh, "when they told you to take it easy I certainly don't think they had that in mind,"
Jordan chewed on his bottom lip and raised a hand to stroke a fingertip down Angela's bare forearm. She couldn't help but let her eyes close at his touch.
"Did you have that in mind? It seemed like you did," he moved in and placed a kiss on her neck, swiftly followed by another. Angela didn't open her eyes, afraid of the affect one look at that face would have on her already crumbling resolve. She felt Jordan's right hand trace her body down to the bottom of her nightshirt. Under normal circumstances she would have quickly reached for the offending hand and forced it back to a less provocative position, but on this occasion she found herself inexplicably unable to move, let alone protest, the feel of Jordan's lips against her neck was enough to make her head swim. She felt the right hand slowly begin retracing its journey from her waist to her knee in reverse, taking the material of the nightdress up with it. His hand felt warm against her leg, and soft. It settled, with his thumb massaging her hip in slow circles matching the rhythm of his kisses. The reality of the moment began to sink in and Angela tensed.
Jordan felt the change and broke away for a moment from his assault on her neck long enough to whisper, "it's okay, I'm taking it easy, remember,"
"That's what you call it?" Angela replied, almost inaudible.
Jordan pulled away a little and stared into Angela's eyes, trying to read her – though he never could tell what she was thinking. He drew his hand away and the fabric of Angela's nightshirt fell back down. She brushed the front as if to ensure it was back in place. Jordan took hold of her hand. His face was one of intense concentration as if monitoring every slight change in Angela's expression for signs of uncertainty or a signal that it was time to stop. His brows were knitted in a deep frown and he seemed to be mouthing words as if to run them through his mind before he said them.
When she last visited the hospital Jordan thought he had noticed a change in Angela, he couldn't help but wonder if he had been right. He could sense her confusion – it reflected his own – and though he knew the danger of giving in to his emotions and the damage his feelings for Angela had caused when their break had led him to make such a terrible mistake. Since the accident all he could think of was how much he wanted to show Angela what she meant to him. Without breaking eye contact he placed Angela's hand, palm down, to his chest and held it there. He paused for a moment, monitoring the slightly puzzled look on her face. Then he reached down and pulled off his sweater and the vest beneath in one smooth movement. He waited. Finally he felt Angela's hand rest once again against his now bare chest. He reached down and took hold of Angela's other hand, mindful of the fact it was still bandaged from the accident, and positioned it against the hard muscles of his stomach. Her face seemed to change from one of bemusement to a look reminiscent of that he had seen at the hospital with the peach.
Angela bit her lip. She had never been so close to another person, let a lone a guy, let alone Jordan. She had dreamt so often of being like this with him and half expected, any second, to wake up in her own bed to the sound of her alarm clock. She moved the lower hand up to meet the other, slowly, feeling the muscles tense as her fingers passed over them. Jordan flinched causing Angela to start and pull away.
"It tickles," Jordan laughed.
Angela allowed the smile to break out that she had been repressing. She gently traced the outline of the dressing on his chest, a reminder of how close she came to losing him for good. She found herself wondering if the skin on his shoulder was as soft as it looked. If she wrapped a hand around his bicep would it be as firm as it looked? Her hands began exploring before her mind had a chance to play out the consequences, the exploration ending with her hands in his hair and her lips on his.
The sound of a door opening and footsteps on the landing caused Angela to pull away. She quickly picked up Jordan's clothes, "you have to go, how did you even get here?"
"I walked,"
Angela stopped, "you walked?"
"Yeah," replied Jordan with a shrug.
"Why would you do that?"
Because you couldn't bare the thought of being within a half a mile of me and not see me, not kiss me, not feel my skin.
"I needed the exercise,"
Angela could almost have laughed at the predictability of it.
Jordan moved toward the back door.
"Wait," Angela took an old coat belonging to her father from the hooks near the door and held it out to him, "here, don't catch pneumonia on top of everything,"
"Thanks," Jordan put on the coat, "you sure your dad won't miss it?"
"He bought it years ago to wear walking in the mountains, he doesn't even walk to the store,"
Jordan let out a half-laugh. "My dad's going away a couple of days this week. I'm not saying-, just tell me you'll come visit,"
The moonlight made him look almost celestial; it reflected in his eyes and cast shadows across his face.
She nodded, and watched him walk away, waiting until he had made the turn around the side of the house before she closed the back door. Nothing, not even a geometry mid-term, could compare to the intensity of being with Jordan Catalano.
When Angela returned to her room she sat cross-legged on the bed. She could hardly believe her own actions, as soon as he walked through the door being so totally unable to control herself. Having worried for so long that she was too introspective, always running things over in her mind to the point of exhaustion, to suddenly discover she could abandon all thought of consequence merely at the sight of him.
--
Jordan was thankful for Graham's coat on the walk home, as the temperature had dropped in the time since he had walked to the house. In truth he knew it had probably been a bad idea to walk. His leg was aching, it hadn't been broken but he had dislodged the kneecap, and he had been told not to walk any considerable distance for at least two weeks.
He thought back to the night of the crash – what he could remember of it. In the seconds he saw the car coming toward them the only thought in his mind was to protect Angela. He shuddered as he remembered the scenario that had played out in his mind during the time that, he later discovered, he had been unconscious. He had opened his eyes to find himself alone in a hospital bed. Walking out into the corridor he had seen Patty and Graham standing a little further down. As he approached them he realised Patty was crying, and as he got nearer she turned and strode towards him, taking hold of his hospital robe with both hands and shaking him repeating over and over "it's your fault". He had tried to get away; he managed to get her hands off him, but for some reason he couldn't move. Looking up he saw Graham shaking his head, and he knew then that Angela had died.
There was so much he wanted to say to her but the fear of scaring her away prevented him from even trying. Plus, he knew it wouldn't come out right – what was the point? But he couldn't control the urge to be near her, he needed the proof that what he saw in his dream was wrong and she was still there. She was the only thing that made sense in his life. The need to just be alone with her and forget everything else was so strong Jordan was almost afraid of it.
--
Sharon came back to Angela's after school the following day. They made popcorn and took it up to Angela's room.
There was so much Angela wanted to ask. The last time she had spoken to Sharon about sex she had felt as though there was a gulf between them. Not just because Angela was a virgin but because sex still felt like something other people did, not something she would ever do. But now it was as if Angela had a new understanding. She was still a virgin, but now having sex with Jordan seemed like an actual reality, something she would actually consider, was actually considering.
"You know when we talked and you said you just knew that you wanted to-, with Kyle," Angela began cautiously.
Sharon nodded, taking another handful of popcorn and inwardly relishing the possibility of a girly conversation.
"Like," Angela stared at her hands, "how did you know--that you were ready?"
Sharon considered her reply, "I guess you just stop seeing the reasons not to," she observed her oldest friend and sensed her consternation, "are you thinking about doing it with Jordan?"
Angela smiled slightly, still a little embarrassed to talk about it, "it's not like a decision I've made, it's more like I can't even help it. I can't help thinking about it," she leant toward Sharon and lowered her voice slightly, "I think about it all the time,"
Sharon smiled, remembering how it felt.
Angela started to laugh, "last night, he came to the house,"
Sharon gasped.
"I don't know what happened to me. As soon as he walked through the door," Angela tried to control her giggles, "I mean I practically jumped on him," she stated almost shocked at herself.
They laughed together, trying not to be too loud in case Patty heard them.
"I don't know-, I mean I still don't know completely what to make of him. He never talks; I mean I know so little about him. He would rather talk to my mother than me," Angela shook her head at the absurdity of it.
"That's just Jordan,"
Angela felt the excitement of a few moments ago subside a little, "I know,"
"Look," Sharon took hold of both her hands, "it's your decision Angela, but don't let it-," she sighed, "just don't let it overshadow everything else okay?"
Angela nodded.
"So you and Kyle, you're like back together?"
Sharon took a deep breath, "not everything is perfect Angela, sometimes you just gotta do what feels right for now,"
"When did things get so complicated? Do you remember when we used to sit in your room and worry ourselves to death about who we were gonna sit next to if we got put in different classes in high school?"
Sharon let out a laugh, "Yeah, like it was the end of the world," she secretly longed for that simplicity. "Is that what you're afraid of? Everyone has to grow up, and it's gonna to happen whether you have sex or not,"