It surprised Jordan how much he actually missed being at school. True, he spent most of his time doing everything he could to skip class but he still missed the routine. And he missed Angela.
His father was getting ready to leave, California this time. He was a salesman for a pharmaceutical company, which meant he was away from home a lot. Jordan couldn't remember ever seeing his father for longer than a few days at a time when he was a kid. By the time he turned thirteen it dawned on his father that his son was quickly becoming a young man and that he didn't know him at all. It frightened him and their relationship, such as it was, became strained. The situation was made worse when they both awoke one morning shortly after Christmas to find Jordan's mother had left in the night without leaving a note or any forwarding address. For the first time his father was forced to stay at home. Father and son were thus left with only each other, a terrifying prospect for them both.
Jordan had already begun getting in trouble; skipping school, stealing, hotwiring cars. Never having had the necessary experience, his father struggled to control him or discipline him the way most parents would. Instead he just got angry.
It came to a head when Jordan was sixteen; he was found with alcohol in school and his father was called in. They drove home in silence but almost as soon as the front door was closed the fighting began. His father blamed Jordan for his mother leaving, accusing him of turning her against her husband. Jordan, in turn, blamed his father for never being there, for caring more about his job than his family, even carrying on with other women. When the fight moved from the verbal to the physical Jordan fought back for the first time. A strong shove sent him sprawling over the coffee table, landing awkwardly against the hearth and, he later discovered, breaking his arm but he had enough strength to pick up the stool from his mother's piano and throw it in the direction of his father. It caught him against the shoulder and he fell backwards against the wall.
Whilst they waited together to be seen at the hospital they both agreed that they were better on their own. Jordan was allowed to remain at the house but he would have to support himself and keep out of his father's way when he was home. They spoke now only when the occasion absolutely demanded it and never for longer than was necessary.
Jordan sometimes found himself wondering what it would have been like to have a proper father figure. A normal dad like Shane's or Angela's. Maybe things would have turned out better, maybe he would have turned out better.
He had at least another few days before the doctors would give him the all clear to go back to school. He was actually quite proud of himself; he had used the time productively trying to get through his first ever novel. He chose Of Mice and Men, even bought his own copy from a second hand bookstore, he hadn't managed to finish it but he was pretty close to half-way through and it was actually making sense.
Downstairs his father was finishing a final phone call; he eyed Jordan as he descended the stairs. Jordan went through to the kitchen and took a packet of biscuits from his cupboard, he observed his father out of the corner of his eye pacing up and down in the living room trying desperately to bring the phone conversation to a close, glancing up at the clock every now and then. At last he was able to end the call, he approached the kitchen so Jordan quickly turned his focus back to trying to undo the top of the biscuits.
There was an awkward moment as his father tried to reach across him to pick up his bottle of water. Jordan ended up picking it up and handing it to him.
"Thanks,"
Jordan made no reply.
"No parties,"
Jordan nodded.
He listened for the front door to close. Another couple of days alone.
--
Angela closed the door of her locker and, as she did so, revealed Brian's face. She jumped.
"For God's sake Brian," she exclaimed, pressing her palm against her chest to steady her heart.
"Sorry,"
Angela tried to regain her composure.
"So do you wanna do something tonight?"
Angela frowned, "what?"
"I mean since we didn't go to the movies the other week. I thought maybe we could go, like tonight?"
"I can't tonight,"
"Oh, well maybe some other time then--like tomorrow?" Brian looked on hopefully.
"Brian. What is this?"
"Nothing,"
Angela shook her head and walked away. She didn't get far before she heard her name.
"Angela?"
It wasn't Brian's voice. She turned. Shane shifted awkwardly on the spot.
"It is Angela right?"
Angela nodded.
"So did you see Jordan?"
Angela tucked her hair behind her ears, "yeah,"
You know the feeling when you can feel your face turning bright red and the more you know it's obvious, the redder it gets?
"He's okay right? I mean I saw him once at the hospital but his dad turned up and-,"
"And what?"
"You know, they went home,"
Angela's hopes floundered that Shane might let slip some more details about Jordan's relationship with his father, "he's gonna be back in school pretty soon,"
Shane nodded, "that's good,"
Angela half smiled and went to turn away to head to class.
"That's good right, Angela?"
She turned back and saw in his face that the question posed didn't quite encompass everything he was actually asking.
"Yeah," she nodded.
"You know he's been like a brother to me, or whatever,"
Angela turned slowly and continued to class, Shane's words and the general weirdness of their exchange reverberated in her mind.
In English she missed Jordan more than ever. She allowed herself to think back to a few nights before, to the unbelievable softness of his skin and the dark blue almost violet of his eyes in the semi-darkness of the kitchen.
She would need a cover story. She would never get away with saying she slept at Sharon's. Patty and Camille were practically attached at the hip, especially since Patty had begun worrying about Graham, she was bound to get found out. And she couldn't stay at Mr Katimski's with Rickie. That only left one person.
Angela found Rayanne in the girl's bathroom talking to Sharon.
"Hey," Sharon smiled.
"Hey," Angela casually lent against the wall next to them, "so who are we dissing?"
Rayanne was more than a little surprised at the lightness of her tone considering their last exchange.
"Pretty much everybody," Sharon concluded, "you okay?"
"Yeah. Actually I kinda need a favour,"
"Sure, name it?"
"I meant Rayanne,"
Rayanne looked up slowly, "you need a favour from me?"
Angela shifted, "yeah, it's sort of like I need to tell my parents that I'm staying at your place tonight,"
Sharon gasped, "is this about Jordan?"
Angela, taken aback by her friend's unusual lack of tact, tried to shhhh Sharon but realised it was already too late and immediately felt foolish.
"What about Jordan?" Rayanne was still out in the cold.
"Nothing," Angela protested, "Sharon!"
The meaning struck Rayanne, "oh my God!" she jumped down from the ledge where she had been sitting, and took hold of both of Angela's hands, "Angelika do not tell me you are finally ready to," she ducked down to check under the lavatory doors, "go all the way?" she completed the sentce in a harsh whisper.
The door opened and Rickie entered, immediately pausing at the sight of the three overly excited girls, "okay what did I miss?"
"Angela is mmmmm mmmmmm mm" Rayanne began but was quickly quietened by Sharon's hand across her mouth, she continued speaking but it was muffled, and struggled until Sharon was forced to let her go, "with Jordan!"
"Great, the abridged version," Rickie scuttled closer to get further details.
"I'm not saying I'm definitely going to," Angela began, "it's not like I'm timetabling it,"
"So when's it happening?" Rayanne cut to the chase.
"Tonight--maybe,"
All three of them let out various yelps and semi-muted cheers. Angela found that she wasn't embarrassed having told them all, in fact she felt relieved, even excited, fuelled by their excitement.
"My mom's at Rusty's tonight and my house is like literally blocks away from Casa Catalano so Patty can actually drop you off, it's like a water-tight alibi. Oh my God this is so exciting," Rayanne jumped up and down, taking hold of Rickie's hands, they jumped around the girls' bathroom together.
Sharon smiled at Angela, "you're sure about this?"
"Yeah," Angela replied, "I mean, why not?"
--
Patty dropped Angela and Sharon at Rayanne's and Rickie arrived shortly after. The three of them helped Angela put on some make-up and do her hair. It made her feel good to have them fussing over her, it made it seem special. She refused to let her mind slip to thoughts about Rayanne and Jordan.
As she walked the few blocks to Jordan's street Angela began to wish she could have stayed at Rayanne's and had the pampering and preparation go on forever.
The house was dark and she wondered whether there was anyone home, but as she walked around to the back door she noticed a light on in one of the upstairs rooms. The door opened and Jordan greeted her with his usual slow smile, "I was hoping you'd come here tonight,"
On the way Angela had prepared any number of greetings, casual, formal, even sexy. But all words now seemed impossible, for a rudimentary reader with low literacy skills he sure knew how to work a sentence.
Jordan stepped aside to let Angela in.
"So this is your kitchen?"
Jordan smirked, "come on,"
He took her by the hand and led her through to the living room. It was large and not unlike her own. Angela had expected an altogether less well-appointed house, Jordan never looked as though he came from a particularly well off family yet his home would suggest otherwise.
She noticed something on the coffee table, a book lying open. She picked it up.
"What's this?"
Jordan smiled shyly, "it's a book that I'm reading,"
Angela flicked through a few pages.
"Have you read it?"
Angela shook her head.
"It's kinda okay,"
Angela smiled and placed the book back down on the table. Now she was actually there Angela didn't feel quite as confident as she had done sitting in her English class in the morning.
"So can I see you room?" she tucked her hair behind her ear and tried to act nonchalant, "I mean, do you have some music that we could listen to or something up there?"
I felt like a siren luring an unwary sailor to his downfall by my womanly wiles. Who am I kidding? Jordan's no sailor, and even if I had womanly wiles I wouldn't know what to do with them.
"You wanna go upstairs?" Jordan repeated slowly.
Angela smiled "yeah, I mean if you want to,"
Both of them had just about lost track of which side of the line this conversation was actually situated.
"To listen to music?" Jordan frowned in sincere uncertainty.
I couldn't bring myself to actually say it. Jordan Catalano please, just put me out of my misery and take me upstairs.
"I'm sorry maybe I shouldn't have come," she made for the door.
"No, wait," Jordan took hold of her wrist as she passed him to prevent her from getting any further, "just," he let go of her wrist and took hold of her hand instead, "say what you mean,"
Angela looked down at his hand holding hers; his thumb was running back and forth over her knuckles. "Can we go upstairs?" with the last syllable she dared look up into his face.
The look in her eyes, a mixture of lust and trepidation, set to rest any doubts Jordan might have had about her actual intentions. He led her upstairs to his room. Her grip on his hand became tighter as they neared the door; he wasn't sure whether she had noticed. He wanted to ask her if she was sure, he wanted to reassure her that it would be okay, he wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, but of all the ways he ran through it in his head nothing sounded right.
Angela carefully draped Jordan's shirt over the back of his desk chair and he was immediately struck by guilt at having allowing hers to simply drop to the floor. He quickly picked it up and placed it next to his, his actions eliciting a giggle from Angela.
She instinctively tried to cover herself when Jordan first lifted off the white tank top Sharon had insisted she wore.
"Don't,"
Jordan gently pulled her arms away from her body and brought her hands to rest against his shoulders, now bare as he had long since discarded most of his own clothes.
Angela closed her eyes and savoured the feel of Jordan's skin. He felt warm, as if he'd just stepped indoors on a sunny day; her own skin, she thought, was always cold.
"What's wrong?"
Angela looked up to meet his concerned gaze.
"Nothing," she whispered.
Jordan thought back to the night at the empty house and how angry he had been when Angela ran away.
"You're sure about this?"
She nodded.
"What made you change your mind?"
Angela hesitated, "do we have to discuss this now?"
It's difficult enough just to be standing here semi naked in front of you; do we really have to have a conversation?
Jordan took a step closer and Angela gasped as he came into full contact with her body. He ran a finger down the outer edge of her ear, focussing on it as if it had become like his whole world.
"You know why," Angela began, "you could have died, we both could, and I-,"
Words failed her as Jordan's hand ran down her back and the other set about unfastening her jeans. His fingers slipped underneath her panties and it was all she could do to stop herself from crying out. Part of her had wanted this from the first moments she set eyes on Jordan Catalano at a careers fare. She had dreamt of it once and woke up soaked in sweat. The next night she tried to force herself to dream it again, convinced that if she fell asleep thinking about Jordan the dream would repeat. But as with all great dreams, it could not be reconjured.
--
Jordan lay awake listening to the silence of the house. He had no idea what time it was, only that a short while ago the dog next door had been barking signalling the return of his owner from the night shift.
His thoughts were interrupted when the bedcovers were dragged from over him and he was exposed to the chilly temperature of the room. Angela sighed contentedly in her sleep as she wrapped the covers around her and buried her face further into the soft pillow.
Ignoring the goose bumps running up his legs Jordan lay back and smiled at the recollection of the night's events. The draft from beneath the bedroom door caressed his cooling skin, reminiscent of Angela's touch. The sight of her beneath him and the feel of her fingers running up and down his side flashed across his mind and sent a shiver through his body. She was perfect, tentative at first, and pliant, but she had grown in confidence as the night wore on.
He turned to look at the figure beside him; before he knew it he had run a hand down her bare back, exposed where she had pulled the covers too far over herself. He lingered at her shoulder, and the pattern of red marks leading up to her hairline. They had faded since last night but even so, against her pale skin, they would certainly be noticeable.
She turned back toward him, still hugging the covers to her, and opened her eyes. It seemed to take her a few moments to remember where she was and why, and for a second Jordan was nervous that her reaction might be one of regret or sadness. To his relief she smiled.
"Morning," Jordan swept a strand of hair away from her face.
"What time is it?"
"Early," he noticed his watch on the floor next to the bed and picked it up, "six thirty,"
Angela smiled and was just about to settle back down on the soft pillows when she noticed Jordan was totally uncovered. She gasped, "oh my God, here," she unravelled herself from the covers and tried to manipulate them so that Jordan had his fair share.
He laughed, "it's okay, I needed to cool down anyway,"
Angela sat up, wrapping the covers around her shoulders. She tried to fix her gaze on Jordan's face, or at least his upper body, but she blushed regardless simply at the idea of what she might see if her gaze drifted south. Jordan reached up and tugged slightly at the covers tucked under her chin, smirking when she gripped them tighter in response. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back against the pillow and rested his right hand against his chest. Angela noted how he unconsciously stroked his index finger back and forth against his skin. Watching closely for any sign that he might open his eyes Angela slowly drew the covers apart that she had been grasping together in front of her and lowered herself down so that she lay right against Jordan's side. Draping the covers over him, she rested her hand on his against his chest. She felt his arm move next to her as he reached around to pull her even tighter against him.
"How long is your father away?"
"Until Thursday,"
Angela ran her fingers up and down Jordan's body, "what does he do? I mean what's his name? I don't even know his name," she looked up at him.
Jordan smiled wearily and bit his bottom lip, "let's not talk about it,"
"Well I should know, I mean you've met my parents,"
"Come here," he pulled her further up toward him until her face was near enough for him to kiss her, and he did so passionately.
Angela began to pull away but Jordan held her firmly in the kiss until she finally forced her away, "Jordan, my wrist,"
Jordan retreated and Angela freed her wrist from between them, she pouted and rubbed it before settling back down against his chest.
"Is he in sales? Is that why he's always away? Don't you get lonely here?"
Jordan flung back the covers and stood up, leaving Angela unceremoniously sprawled on the bed. He pulled on his boxers.
"Jordan?"
He left the room.
Angela found him downstairs in the kitchen washing up his dinner plates and glass from the night before. She approached him slowly and, picking up the drying cloth from beside the sink, she began drying off the plates.
"You don't have to do that,"
"It's okay," she went to take the next plate but Jordan stayed her hand.
"Don't,"
Angela, confused, folded the drying cloth and placed it back where she had found it.
Jordan sighed deeply, "I just-, you being here-," he rubbed his face, "why do you ask so many questions?"
Angela immediately turned to the offensive, "because I want to know you better, you never tell me anything about yourself," she remembered the day in the classroom when Jordan had confessed he couldn't read, "okay so maybe you've told me a couple of things but it's like you put up these barriers and I can't even see you behind them," her frustration gathered momentum when she saw the dismissive look in Jordan's face, "I barely know you at all,"
"So what are you still doing here?"
Jordan turned a steely gaze toward her. His chest was heaving, Angela didn't know why, perhaps anger, perhaps not. Eyes stinging with tears, she shook her head and made for the back door.