1995

This morning, I overheard my mom talking to Mrs. Cherski on the phone. I couldn't help but wonder what was up with the term, "they stole my happiness?" As if happiness is something you can steal, like a bag of jewels. I suppose happiness is precious and all, but does that mean we aren't in control of our own happiness? That I am not in control of myself? People always feel they should offer you their free advice, but they are mistaken to assume you actually want it. Often, my mother had told me that I was only in control of myself and no one else. But, how could I be? If someone could take that away from me… if Jordan could.

So, he wanted to come in for coffee. Did he really mean just coffee? Or was it code for something I was too naive to understand, like sex? To be honest, I didn't even know which I wanted him to mean. We hadn't kissed since he gave me that letter. The one that was actually written by Brian Krakow. We weren't a couple, but we weren't only friends either. Or were we, just friends? I had spent most of my summer with my neurotic grandmother, while my parents tried to work things out. It had been oddly easier to be there than home. But, now that I was back, everything was confusing and hard. It's not like I could just ask Jordan Catalano if he wanted to be my boyfriend. I didn't even know if I wanted to be his girlfriend, but really... I did. I wanted everything from him, even his happiness.

"Angela, you're going to miss the bus. Your sister is already gone." She looked tired. My mother once said she couldn't sleep without my father beside her. It was kind of a nice thought, even if the idea of my parents in bed, like together, turned my stomach. The fact that it hurt to be away from someone was a romantic notion... unless they weren't coming back.

It's a strange thing when you don't recognize a person you've known your entire life. Unlike me, she had always been perfectly put together. My mother had followed the same rituals since before I was even born. A well-balanced meal with a proper night's sleep was the key to looking your best and staying young. This was her mantra. Now, she wasn't eating or sleeping at all.

My hands reached down and started to clumsy tie my shoe. The only thing was…it didn't really need to be tied. I just found it hard to look into her sad eyes, at her bare face. "Well, Jordan kind of offered to start giving me a ride...You know, so I wouldn't have to take the bus anymore."

"Oh, did he? Does that mean you are a couple now?"

"Mom, of course not. We're just friends." My hand smoothed through my hair as I stood awkwardly.

"Ok, well if anything changes... promise you will at least tell me."

"Whatever." I couldn't help be think how boys had it so much easier. When you are a girl, there is this pressure to have a boyfriend. And if you don't, you are like abnormal or something. But, at the same time, if you do then it automatically means your innocence is at stake. Meanwhile, boys are told to play the field and are even celebrated for having sex. I know they have their own struggles, but why does society pit us against one another? It was almost like we were meant to live among each other, which didn't seem right. Then there are all these terms, like normal for instance. What is normal anyway? When you think of history, weren't all the artist, poets, and inventors all judged or even prosecuted for being different? It's amazing how little things have actually changed. Ok, I'm not saying they are as bad, but that doesn't mean we have to like stop evolving or whatever. My body leaned against the kitchen counter, the same way he leaned. Sometimes, when you are around a person a lot, you can't help but pick up some of their habits or traits. I wondered if Jordan even knew any of mine.

"Angela?"

"Well, it's never going to happen! Aren't you late?"

She sighed. "Yes, and I probably won't get home until after nine again. Could you please make sure your sister eats dinner?"

"Fine." I hated to be so short with my mom, but I didn't want to give her a reason to pry. She always pried. After she left, my eyes wandered over to the coffee pot. It was empty. Such a simple thing was kind of upsetting to me. I couldn't remember a morning where it hadn't been made. I suppose my dad normally prepared the coffee, but he wasn't here. A statement that seemed unfitting for our family. That's when it occurred to me- I had never made it myself. As I was fumbling through the cabinets looking for filters, the back door clicked open. Jordan didn't even knock, but just let himself in. I couldn't imagine waltzing into his house unannounced. Also, I had never actually been inside his house, which seemed kind of unfair. "Hey, sorry… I didn't realize that my mother hadn't made coffee this morning. My dad normally does, but as you know…"

Before I knew what was happening, my words were cut short. He always did that, but I didn't mind as much anymore. His strong arms wrapped around my waist. Jordan had cornered me against the cold tiles of the kitchen counter. "So, we aren't then?" His hair was slightly damp, and I could smell his shampoo.

"Aren't what?" No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold back a smile. It was like Jordan had this power over me, and every time we touched… I lost the ability to refuse him.

"A couple?" A chill pulled through me as his warm hand ran down the full length of my arm.

My body betrayed me, and I could feel my cheeks turn a hue of scarlet. "You heard that?"

"Well, are we or not?" He asked calmly as if staring into my eyes was easy. But, I didn't want it to be easy. For once, I wanted to see him being the vulnerable one.

"I don't know. Are we? I mean, don't you usually go on dates or whatever...if you are a couple?"

"Dates?" Those rough fingertips brushed against my cheek, and I couldn't help but press my face into his touch. "So, what do you think we do?"

"We?" A nervous laugh escaped my parted lips. "Don't we just hang out? It's not exactly formal."

"By formal, you mean I should wear a tie or something?"

At that, I chuckled. "No, but would it be so bad?" I couldn't help but stare at his lips. At that moment, I thought I was ready. I wanted him. No, I needed him to make love to me, to show me that I had been wrong about true love. I wanted him to contradict my statement, but he hadn't. Not yet. Kiss me now- the only thought that consumed my mind.

"Not if you looked at me like that." Jordan leaned in a bit.

"I am looking at you... like that." My eyes fell shut at the sudden feeling of his lips against mine. His tongue took advantage of my parted lips and invaded my mouth. An intrusion I welcomed by massaging my own tongue against his. Those steady hands roughly grasped my hips and lifted me on top of the counter. The heat rushed from my face to between my legs, when I felt him pressed against me. I needed something to fill this sort of emptiness that was within me. My hands shook as they made their way down to his jean's button.

"Angela…" His hands clasped around mine, and he eased back. It was a rare thing to see Jordan smile, like witnessing something cosmic. I caught a glimpse of it before he left a tender kiss upon my forehead. After doing so, he moved away and began to brew the coffee. "How do you take it?"

Jordan had left me breathless. Marked- by the lingering feeling of his lips on mine. My heart was pounding out some unfamiliar tune. The harmony was so beautiful that it hurt. "Take it? I-I don't know. I guess the normal way. I thought you knew that I've never…"

His thick brows pulled together as he looked back at me in a state of confusion. "Never had...coffee?" A grin suddenly pulled at his lips as if he had realized my mistake.

"Well, yeah…" I tried to play it off and watched as the hot liquid suddenly burst into the pot. A bit of steam seemed to escape from the lid of the coffee maker. "I mean, I have had a taste, but I don't really know how I like it."

"Are we still talking about coffee?"

"Yes, I'm definitely talking about it." I paused. "Coffee, I mean."

"Angela, let me just make this clear. I'm not going to sleep with you, ok?" His tone had grown a bit firm.

Just like that, I felt my world crashing down. For once, I was silent. I wanted to yell at him… but the words had escaped me. Jordan had actually refused me. I didn't understand. What had changed so fast? Why didn't he want me?

Composed, he handed me a cup of black coffee with three or four sugars. It was both sweet and bitter, much like our relationship. Assuming… you could even call it that.

To be continued…

(Thanks for reading. The next time I post, I will continue this bit AND take it back to the present. )