CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“We’re not going inside?” Jordan asked.
I shook my head and fought off the emotions threatening to drown me. Be strong…look the beast in the eye, I said over and over again inside my head.
Jordan and I stood in my garage, staring at a very neglected, nearly new silver Audi. It was hard enough to go into the garage. I couldn’t handle stepping inside the house. But Blair was right; I had to force this on myself in order to really gain control of my emotions.
Or at least that was the theory I’d adopted. I fumbled for the keys in my backpack and unlocked the door. I sat in the driver’s seat and started the ignition. Already the familiar smell had my head spinning, but this had to be easier than going in the house again. I sat still, letting the car warm up for a few minutes.
Jordan held the driver door open, leaning in closer to me. “Let me ride with you first. Just a couple laps around the block. It’s icy, and we didn’t even tell my dad…”
I let out a frustrated breath. “Jordan, I’m a licensed driver. My grandmother told me to come get my car whenever I’m ready. Stop worrying.”
His face reflected very conflicting emotions. “How long did you have your license?”
“Three months,” I answered staring at the steering wheel. “What are you going to do to rescue me while you’re sitting in the passenger seat that you can’t do by following me in your car?”
“Fine,” he said, clearly pissed off at me.
He was just worried about Bentley blaming him, since he was the one who had driven me over here. I would have taken the bus if he’d said no, anyway.
“Can you even reach the pedals?” Jordan said in a last–second plea.
I glared at him and pulled the door shut. I’d nearly put the car in reverse when he knocked on the window. I hit the button to roll it down. “What?”
He leaned on the frame, looking so, so cute and stressed out. “Nothing…I’m sorry. You’re right. You have to do this. Just don’t, you know…drive angry.”
I burst out laughing. “Thanks for the PSA.”
I watched in the rearview mirror as he jogged down the driveway and got into his car. And yes, I was totally and completely nervous, but in all fairness, I wasn’t a bad driver. In fact, I had gotten a perfect score on my driving test, but due to last year’s shoulder surgery, I had to wait several months to complete my driver’s ed course. I put the car in reverse and backed out, hitting the button to shut the garage door. I waited until it sealed completely, freezing my home exactly as it had been left, then I was headed down the block, Jordon and his puke green car behind me.
When I pulled into the Bentleys’ complex, parking a few spaces from their town house door, I could feel myself ready to grin. I hadn’t flipped out or felt that weird chest tightening dizziness or nausea. Jordan’s friend Tony was waiting with Jordan at the front door.
Tony stuck his hand out for me to high–five him. “Nice wheels, Campbell!”
Jordan rolled his eyes. “He’s got the exact same car but blue.”
I looked where Jordan had just pointed and saw an identical Audi in a deep blue. “Cool.”
Jordan stared at me like he wanted to say something, but maybe not in front of Tony. “Okay, you two,” Tony said. “Big party at my house tonight. You’re coming, right?”
The front door was finally opened by Jordan. Tony and I followed him in. I’d had several days to figure out a plan for getting the information I needed about my parents’ accident, and Tony’s presence today made the last piece fall into place.
“I’m totally up for it,” I said. “If we can figure out something to tell Jordan’s dad.”
Jordan looked at me in surprise, but then yanked his phone from his pocket as it vibrated. I wasn’t trying to look. I really wasn’t. But the front of it was flashed in my line of sight for half a second.
Stevie Davis.
This overwhelming sense of dread and something I couldn’t put my finger on filled my stomach. Especially as I watched Jordan’s eyebrows lift and then he headed for the stairs saying, “Be right back.”
How did Stevie get his number, and why was she calling him? I shoved the thought from my head and turned to face Tony. “Hey, I have a question. More like I need a favor, actually.”
He looked both suspicious and curious. “All right…?”
I sat on the arm of the couch, keeping my eyes on Tony. “I was just wondering if you could get some information for me from your mom? But not tell her who it’s for.”
“This sounds illegal, which I’m not totally opposed to.”
I sucked in a breath, closing my eyes for a second. “I just want to know the location of my parents’ accident. I know the general area, but the police wouldn’t tell me the exact mile marker on the interstate, and I really need to know.”
All the amusement dropped from his round face. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you,” I whispered as Jordan thundered down the steps.
February 27
Dad,
You might have raised a lawyer without even realizing it. I’m bargaining and bribing…well, okay, more like asking, but still…I remembered that you told me once how lawyers have to be investigators, too. That’s what I’m doing right now. Digging.
Love, Karen
“Good news!” Jordan said. “We’re going to a party tonight. And Karen, you’re having a sleepover with Blair and Stevie at Stevie’s apartment. She’s already asked my dad and everything.”
“Blair and Stevie are coming to Tony’s tonight?” This revelation distracted me from thinking about the fact that he’d just had a five– to six–minute private conversation with Stevie.
Jordan stood in front of me, arms folded across his chest, grinning like he’d just created this master plan when I knew for a fact that Stevie having her own apartment was the only reason we were going to this party. Or at least the only reason I was going. Jordan could have easily gotten away with it.
“You drove your car, you’re sneaking out to go to a party—you know what you gotta do between now and tonight, right?”
“Rob a bank?” I suggested.
“A layout Jaeger on the uneven bars.”
I grinned just thinking about being able to try it today. Finally. My fingers were already tingling. I glanced at the clock and jumped up, snatching my bag from the floor. “Shit! It’s already two. I gotta call my grandma.”
I took off for the stairs, the phone ringing on her end already. I needed to pack a bag for Stevie’s and possibly find something in my wardrobe that would make me look a little bit hotter than my much older teammate. Yeah, right.
“Hi Grandma,” I said when she answered. “Guess what? I got the car…”
***
“Don’t say anything to Ellen,” Blair hissed in my ear while we were in the locker room during break. “She’ll know she can’t come but she’s gonna sulk about it for a week.”
“Got it.”
“What are you wearing?” Blair asked.
I grabbed my grip bag and waved a hand to stop her from talking. “No distractions! I’m focusing.”
“Sorry,” she gulped, zipping her lips.
Jordan was in the lobby whispering with Stevie about something, but I barely glanced their way as I taped up my wrists for bars. It took me longer than anyone else to notice the four random people and one giant camera occupying space in the lobby.
“NBC is here?” I hissed to Blair.
“Probably to cover Stevie. Another story about the fallen champion or something,” she whispered back.
One of the NBC guys walked up beside us. I recognized him from training camps. They came out to get footage of us working out together whenever a competition was approaching. They’d been to the gym before, too, when Stevie was working toward making the Olympic team the summer before last. They got tons of footage and even interviewed all of us. Being a junior then, I’d thought it was pretty cool.
“Hi, girls!” Scott, the reporter, said. “How’s training going? We heard you were doing a little meet in Chicago before the American Cup.” He didn’t even wait for us to answer. His eyes darted toward Bentley, who was talking to the other NBC people, and then he zoomed in on me. “I’m so sorry to hear about your parents, Karen. Just wondered if we could sit down and talk to you about it and about how brave you are to get back in the gym and keep working toward your goals.”
My mouth fell open but no words would come out. I could feel sweat pooling on the back of my neck. The last thing I needed was to have an emotional breakdown on national television or to have the entire country know me for my sob–worthy orphan story rather than for my gymnastics.
Coach Bentley strode across the lobby, placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. “Time for bars, girls. Scott, you are welcome to take as much training footage as you’d like, since apparently Nina Jones has already given permission for NBC to enter my gym.”
Holy cow, Bentley is pissed.
I managed to get through my competition routines, blocking out the cameras and Jordan watching. He must have done something amazing to charm Stacey into allowing him to stand near the beams while she coached the level 7s. Blair had her grips off to repair a rip on her right palm, so I let her fix my sweaty hair into a bun while we waited for Bentley to get an extra crash mat under the high bar. I didn’t want to look like a complete slob for NBC.
Blair dropped her hands from my hair, declaring it finished, and Bentley stood under the high bar, ready for me to take my turn.
“The key is patience, Karen,” he said. “Let your toes rise all the way up before you let go.”
I nodded, visually playing out his suggestion in my head. I spat on each grip once more before jumping into my mount on the low bar. Before the Jaeger, in my routine, I had to turn my hands to an inverted grip and then I swung facing the low bar, my heels leading the way around.
I held on a half second too long, and there was nothing I could do to correct the mistake. I flew upside down, my forehead dangerously close to the high bar Grabbing it wasn’t really an option. Bentley caught me, midair, around the waist, but my momentum was already heading toward the floor. Bentley eventually released me, and I was able to forward roll out and return to my feet.
My legs were shaking, and I did everything I could to wipe any trace of fear or surprise from my face. If that had given Bentley a heart attack, you’d never have known by looking at his face. He just rubbed his bald head and said, “A tad bit late and too much heel drive. Patience isn’t just for timing the release, it’s also for the kick up to the handstand. You had a little too much too soon. That’s going to screw with your timing.”
Instead of replaying the fall in my head, my brain was already fixing it. I dipped my hands in the chalk bin again, watching Jordan from the corner of my eye. He had moved a couple feet closer and was now biting his left thumbnail. I almost smiled at him, but I didn’t want anyone to notice me noticing him.
Blair and Ellen each had a quick turn and then I was back on the bars, swinging into my front giant swing.
“Slow and easy, Karen,” Bentley reminded me.
This time I was too early, which pushed me far away from the bar. I landed with a smack, flat on my stomach, briefly feeling the wind whoosh out of my lungs, my rib cage vibrating from the impact.
I lay there for a second, face pressed into the landing mat, closing my eyes and waiting for the pain to fade. I pulled myself to my feet and heard Bentley’s correction as I headed to get more chalk.
“Just a little early,” he said. “And keep the midsection tight…”
Keep the midsection tight was Bentley’s socially acceptable way of saying squeeze your butt. That was a common correction in gymnastics, because the abs and butt are at the center of the body, and not keeping the middle tight caused all kinds of form problems and falls.
I used a towel to wipe the sweat from my face and re–chalked, waiting for my next turn. After ten more misses, several instances of losing my breath, a huge bloody rip on my left palm, and one very hard accidental elbow jab to my coach’s stomach, Bentley told me to call it quits for the day.
It wasn’t until then that I started fighting off tears. I didn’t want NBC to catch sight of me crying and turn it into something that it wasn’t, so I turned my back to them and stuck my hands in the chalk bowl again. “One more try,” I pleaded with Bentley.
“Karen—” he started to say.
“Please, one more and I won’t bug you again for the rest of the week.” Which basically meant tomorrow, since it was Friday.
He sighed. “All right.”
I took several slow, deep breaths and used my knuckles to wipe away a couple tears that had trickled down my cheek. I didn’t even notice Jordan coming up beside me until he said, “I thought the point was to catch the bar?”
“Seriously, Jordan, not in the mood,” I snapped.
“Okay.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You’re forgetting to breathe.”
“I’m breathing right now,” I said through my teeth. What was up with him today?
“I mean before you release the bar. It’s just one long exhale. Or a really long word.”
Stevie joined me at the chalk bin, her eyes on Jordan. “He’s a coach, he should know.”
I glanced at Jordan, narrowing my eyes. “You’re a coach?”
“At International Gymnastics camp,” he said. “Three summers in a row.”
I’d been to that camp twice myself, but not since I was ten. The coaches were pretty good there.
“One long exhale?” I repeated.
He nodded. “Try it. It’ll work.”
I stood in front of the low bar, ignoring the camera zooming in. Bentley absentmindedly rubbed his stomach where I had elbowed him three turns ago. I took a deep breath and jumped into my mount again. When it came time for the Jaeger, I allowed the air to release from my lungs as I swung and then let go of the bar at the end of my breath. I could feel it working in slow motion. I saw the bar for what felt like several seconds, though I knew it couldn’t have been that long. And when I caught it, Blair, Ellen, Jordan, and Stevie all cheered.
I was already smiling before my feet hit the ground. Bentley patted the top of my head. “Nice job, Karen! Very nice.”
I caught Jordan’s eye and mouthed “Thank you” to him. He gave me one of his famous half smiles. A girl from the level 5 team was currently holding on to Jordan’s hands, walking up his legs while he flipped her over.
Bentley gave me a nudge from behind. “Beam. Now.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” I said, still grinning.
Coach Bentley,
I am doing a layout Jaeger in Chicago, I don’t care what you say!
—Karen
P.S. thanks for letting me have one more chance
***
I wasn’t sure why it bugged me to all ends to see Stevie dressed in a short skirt and a cute top with her small–but–bigger–than–mine boobs accented by the V–neck while Jordan walked her and Blair around Tony’s house introducing her to everyone.
Several girls recognized Stevie from the televised Olympic trials where they had told her injury story over and over again. That didn’t bug me as much, but having Jordan by her side…I just couldn’t help wondering whether he liked her…really liked her. And the elation I had felt during practice began to fade.
This time, I chose the purple Kool–Aid and some kind of alcohol mix and went through two cups before I started feeling it and tossed my third cup. Jordan was on his third beer, I noticed, not that I was spending all my time watching him or anything. Not that I had an excuse to watch him and count his drinks. Stevie had driven all of us here and she wasn’t drinking, so there wasn’t really anything to worry about.
I kept to myself for a long time until Tony found me and pulled me into the office, away from everyone else. He shut the door halfway and turned on a lamp near the desk. The loud music and voices faded, leaving the hum of near silence flooding my ears.
“All right, Campbell,” he said, looking somewhat grim compared to his usual lighthearted attitude. “You asked for it and I delivered.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Really?”
He snatched a plain piece of paper from the printer and grabbed a pen, nodding for me to come closer. “You know the exit right before the stadium?” I shook my head and leaned closer to look at his drawing. “There’s a gas station with a big sign that’s had the letter missing for like a year.”
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I do know that area.”
He glanced at me, probably checking my face for panic or a major breakdown, but I was a hundred percent in technical mode. “Okay, so about three miles before that exit, there’s a curve in the road and it’s pretty sharp…”
I watched as he drew lines and wrote down the mile marker from memory. Then he handed me the paper. I folded it carefully and tucked it into my pocket. “Thanks, seriously. I didn’t even think you’d be able to get this information.”
“There you are.”
Tony and I both jumped, looking really guilty and up to something as we turned to face Jordan, who was now standing at the door to the office.
“You’re welcome,” Tony said to me, then he flashed Jordan a grin before scurrying out of the room.
Jordan blocked the door, his eyes on me, waiting for an explanation. “What?” I said, all innocent.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Just wondering where you went. A couple of guys in my class made this cool light show thing for the science fair. We’re about to watch it.”
“You and Stevie?” I said, then I closed my eyes wishing I’d had an ounce of my usual self–control.
“Karen—” he started.
“Come on.” I turned my back to him, heading out the door. “Let’s go watch the light show science experiment thing.”
He dropped the subject of Stevie and followed behind me. I felt Jordan’s arm brush against mine as we walked down the steps to the basement where Tony had the alpha and omega of home theaters. The room was crowded with students and cups and booming voices, but Jordan managed to capture my attention. Standing close behind me, he whispered, “Are you worried about me and Stevie?”
I shrugged and kept my eyes on my two teammates standing across the room, talking to a few of the girls I’d met at the last party. Blair was chugging Kool–Aid mix like someone dying of thirst. “Why would I would be worried? I like Stevie. She’s my teammate.”
Suddenly all the lights went out, leaving the room pitch–black. A few screams erupted, followed by laughter and someone shouting that it was supposed to get dark. The laser designs appeared on the ceiling, causing everyone to look up. Pink, blue, and green neon shapes streaked across the ceiling. I could see them clearly, but it was still so dark in the room that I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. Which is why I jumped and let out a yelp when someone’s arm snaked around my waist from behind.
“Shh,” Jordan said, speaking right into my ear. “It’s just me.”
I sucked in a breath, feeling my heart fly, goose bumps popping up on my neck where his breath had hit my skin. The first thought in my head was please don’t walk across the room and do this to Stevie.
He gently tugged me closer until my back pressed against his chest. One of his hands rested on my stomach, and the other fumbled around in the dark for a minute before drifting down my arm. He laced his fingers through mine and slowly lifted our hands until I felt my knuckles touch his lips.
If my heart was racing before, it was sprinting now. This totally broke our friend code and I didn’t feel an ounce of desire to point that out. I just wanted to sink further into him and for the lights to never come back on.
The light show blurred above me, electronic classical music filled the dark as I leaned against Jordan, my head falling back onto his shoulder. His nose grazed my neck and I suddenly felt hot all over—in a good way. Like heat enveloped me from all sides.
“Jordan…?” I whispered into the dark.
“Shh,” he said again. “I know the rules. No kissing.”
I wasn’t going to say that. Not even close. We needed to abolish that rule this very moment. I turned my head slightly toward him and ran into his mouth before I even had a chance to decide to kiss him. I lifted my hand and gripped the back of his neck, drawing him even closer. Our mouths almost couldn’t match up, the way we were angled, but I felt his fingers brush my cheek and eventually hold me in place. His lips were as soft as I remembered from the first time, and when they parted a little, I almost debated trying the whole tongue thing, but then he closed them again and pulled away.
I turned my head forward again, and both his arms went around my waist while he planted little kisses up and down the side of my neck.
“Karen,” he breathed.
“Yeah.”
“In case you’re wondering…I’m not into Stevie.”
I forced down a very un–cool sigh of relief and then I slid his hand up to my heart, pressing it close over top of my shirt. “It wasn’t even going this fast during bars today,” I whispered, glad he couldn’t see me blushing right now.
He wrapped his arms even tighter around me so I could feel the thud, thud, of his heart against my back. “Mine’s faster.”
Jordan,
You are the most perfect boy in the world, if such a thing exists. Please don’t ever stand behind anyone else in the dark again. Just me.
Love,
Karen
When did this happen? When did my feelings for Jordan become so massive they allowed everything else to take a backseat?
Jordan must have sensed the show coming to a close, because he gave me one last squeeze around the middle before letting go. He didn’t drop both his arms, though. He stayed close behind me, with the fingertips of one of his hands still resting just above my belly button. When the lights came on, Stevie and Blair spotted us, and I could see them taking it all in.
He wasn’t kidding. He’s not into Stevie…he’s really not, and he wants her to know.
“Let’s go outside,” Jordan said to me before taking my hand and leading me upstairs. We both grabbed our jackets, and he pulled his stocking cap over my head again like the last time we were here, smiling at me while he neatly folded up the bottom.
The wind was bitter and unforgiving, but we huddled on the back patio anyway, Jordan’s front brushing against my back, like we’d been in the basement only moments ago, except we weren’t touching anymore. For a good sixty seconds, a horrible cloud of tension sat right between us, and I could barely breathe until Jordan turned me around again, pointing up to the sky. “Look, it’s the forty–thousandth star. Make a wish.”
I laughed and leaned back against him, tugging his arms around me again. “I like this a lot.”
“Me, too. But I’ll stop if you want me to. I’m just…I’m really happy for you. Getting your car and the bar routine, I’m kind of in awe of you, actually.”
“Like the worshipping kind of awe?” I teased. “Do I get a shrine?”
He laughed, putting more of his breath against my neck. “How about I write a song for you. It’ll be sappy and include the word ‘really’ at least twelve times.”
“Can you sing?”
“A little. I play guitar better than I sing, though.”
I guess there was even more I hadn’t learned about Jordan Bentley. “I think you should write a song and call it ‘Don’t Kiss Me,’ because something about saying no kissing seems to make it so hard—”
My words were cut off by Jordan turning my chin and crushing his mouth against mine in a way that was much less careful and hesitant than before. The desire to be even closer to him was so strong, I turned around in his arms and pressed the front of my body against his. His mouth opened a little like earlier and I felt myself stiffen, then Jordan pulled back, resting his forehead against mine.
“Too much?” he asked.
I touched his face with both my hands, my fingers gliding along his skin, tracing over his jaw. Had I really been on a balance beam only hours ago? Had this day really started with a morning workout and a drive to my house to get my car? It didn’t seem possible to have so many big moments in such a short amount of time.
“The whole tongue thing is a little weird to me,” I admitted.
“It is weird,” he said thoughtfully, then a malicious grin spread across his face and he dove forward and licked my cheek.
“Ew!” I wiped off my face with the back of my hand, laughing too hard to yell at him. “Nasty.”
His eyes danced with amusement. “I’m just breaking you of your germophobia.” He used his coat sleeve to wipe my cheek off a second time, then leaned in and gave me another kiss on the mouth. “Seriously though, sometimes my body gets ahead of my brain and you just have to stop me, okay?”
I felt like I was floating on a cloud of gorgeous blond boy with his super sweet perfect words.
“Jordan? Karen?” Stevie’s voice came from the back door area.
We broke apart quickly, but Jordan held on to one of my hands.
“I think Blair went a little crazy with the Kool–Aid mix,” Stevie said.
“Uh oh.” I immediately dropped Jordan’s hand and pushed past Stevie, heading back into the house. “Where is she?”
Stevie pointed to a door nearby. “Bathroom.”
I knocked on it once before opening it halfway. Blair sat on the floor, head hanging over the toilet, puking up purple liquid.
Jordan leaned over my shoulder, to get a closer look. “Oh, this is not good.”
I slid into the bathroom along with Jordan and Stevie, then I swept Blair’s long black hair off her neck, holding it up for her. “Get a wet towel for her head,” I ordered to whichever one of them would respond. Jordan started sifting through the cabinet under the sink and Stevie dove into the linen closet, coming up with a pink washcloth.
Once Blair stopped heaving, I reached out and flushed the toilet. She collapsed onto the floor, clutching her stomach and groaning. I sat beside her and Stevie pressed the washcloth to her forehead.
Jordan leaned over her, assessing the situation. “Damn, I should have never let her out of my sight. My dad is going to murder me. How much did she drink?”
“Apparently too much,” Stevie said.
Jordan rolled his eyes. “Let’s just get her out of here. She can sleep it off at your place.”
Stevie and I helped Blair sit up, then Jordan bent over and scooped her off the floor, easily carrying her out the door and into the car. Before going outside, I grabbed Blair’s purse and coat. In the car, I managed to get a seat belt around her, but her head flopped over into my lap. I let her stay like that while Jordan climbed into the front seat and Stevie into the driver’s seat.
When we got to Stevie’s apartment, Jordan picked Blair up again. Her head flopped around, but she opened her eyes for a minute and smiled lazily up at him.
“I didn’t puke on you, did I?”
Jordan laughed. “No, you didn’t.”
“Good.” She closed her eyes and passed out again.
“Put her on the couch,” Stevie directed once we were inside.
Jordan laid her down and found a blanket to toss over her. Stevie retrieved a bucket just in case Blair barfed again and I got a glass of water and Advil ready on the coffee table for when she woke up.
“Do you think Coach Bentley’s going to notice?” I asked Stevie, referring to our Saturday morning practice tomorrow.
“It’s only ten thirty now,” Stevie said with a sigh. “Kinda pathetic, huh? We didn’t even make it until eleven.”
Jordan laughed. “Yeah, totally pathetic. You guys are such wimps, you never do anything risky.”
“Practice isn’t until ten tomorrow,” I said. “Hopefully that will be enough time for her to recover.”
Stevie clapped her hands together and headed toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna make something to eat, anyone else hungry?”
Jordan stood there scratching the back of his head. “Maybe I’ll call one of my friends and get a ride home.”
“I thought you were staying here tonight,” Stevie said.
He is? That was news to me.
Jordan looked extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”
Stevie spun around, hands on hips, competition face on. “Oh come on, it’s not like it’s any different from every other night for you two. Besides, I had only hoped a tiny bit that you’d hook up with me and not Karen tonight, but it was more of an afterthought than a real goal.”
My jaw literally fell open. Did she actually just say that she had planned to hook up with Jordan?
Jordan looked just as shocked, but he managed to speak before I did. “Well…I hadn’t really planned on hooking up with anyone, to be honest…”
I covered my face with my hands. I couldn’t help it. “Oh my God, this is awkward.”
Stevie burst out laughing. “Clearly I didn’t explain myself well enough. I just meant that I’m ready to do the whole being a real teenager thing while I’ve still got a few months of it left, and Jordan was right in front of me, so naturally, I’d go there first, but I don’t have feelings for him, so if you do, Karen, I’m okay with that. I promise. My main concern right now is not getting in trouble with Coach Bentley by sending you home after drinking or having one of your wasted friends come and pick you up.”
Jordan tugged on my shirtsleeve, drawing me closer before leaning in to stage–whisper, “I thought she was shy.”
I laughed despite the tension. “I wouldn’t ever call her shy.”
Stevie’s whole face relaxed. “You guys are adorable. I just don’t want to be within a mile range when Bentley finds out about this little romance.”
Jordan threw me a weary look. “He can’t find out.”
“I won’t say anything,” Stevie promised. “But seriously, do not tell Ellen. She’s a total blabbermouth. And is anyone else hungry?”
“Sure, I am,” Jordan said.
“Me, too.”
“I’ve got chips and salsa and low–fat frozen yogurt. Why don’t you guys pick a movie? Or something on TV.”
We both plopped down on the loveseat and Jordan found the remote and started searching through the channels.
“God, that was weird,” he said under his breath. “Are you okay?”
I laughed. “I’m fine. I’m used to these two, you’re not.”
He slid an arm around me and touched his forehead to my temple. “We can’t tell my dad. I wasn’t kidding about that.”
“Maybe I won’t like you anymore tomorrow. That would make everything easier, wouldn’t it?”
“True,” he said. “I think I was drunk earlier. I’ve come to my senses since then.”
I smiled at him and then we scooted apart before Stevie came back.
A little while later, after providing Jordan with a new toothbrush and a clean t–shirt, Stevie tossed a couple sleeping bags onto the floor and shook her head at Jordan and me. “Just don’t get anybody pregnant,” she warned.
Jordan snorted back a laugh. “I’ll try not to get myself pregnant, Stevie. Thanks for the lecture.”
Stevie pointed a stern finger at him. “Don’t piss me off, pretty boy. Karen has enough on the line to not have to worry about shit like that. I know what goes through your head. I’m not an idiot.”
I buried my face in the pillow on the floor. “Please be done talking.”
Stevie finally went into her bedroom and Jordan stretched out on the sleeping bag beside me. “It’s not really weird, is it?” he asked. “I’ve seen your pajamas and your wet hair and even your retainer—”
I popped upright again. “Shit! Thanks for reminding me.”
Jordan grinned at me and pressed my shoulders back down again. “Just a minute…”
I froze and held my breath as he leaned over me and kissed me. One hand cradled the back of my head and his lips parted again, breathing his minty toothpaste breath into my mouth. It seemed cleaner now than earlier and really, I just didn’t care. I barely felt his tongue inside my mouth because my heart was sprinting so fast. I couldn’t get him close enough. Much too soon, he pulled away and kissed my forehead. “Not so bad, right?”
“Nope, not bad at all,” I said honestly. “What if we just stop after tonight? Or don’t do any of this stuff except in very safe situations so your dad never finds out?”
“It’s a good plan, in theory.” Jordan leaned on one elbow. “But it’s like you said, don’t kiss me seems to have that effect on us.”
“What made you change your mind about breaking our friend code or whatever?”
He picked up a strand of my hair and twirled it around his finger. “I saw you with Tony and I realized that you could be with someone else. You’re not just going to sit around and wait for me to figure my shit out. And honestly, I had already figured everything out, it just scared me to admit it.”
I turned over on my stomach, my face toward him, and closed my eyes. “I would have waited for you. You’re good for me. Sometimes I’m just so crazy and insane with emotions and I can’t make any sense of them and it’s dangerous, but with you…it’s a good thing. I know it’s a good thing.”
Jordan frowned and lowered his voice. “I’m kind of a screwup. I’m not sure anyone else will agree that this is good.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he just shook his head. “Want me to get your retainer?”
“Yeah.” He retrieved my bag and even opened the retainer case for me. Before I popped it into my mouth, I said, “You should ask your dad to let you coach at the gym. Like some recreational classes. You already have experience.” I couldn’t help wanting to find opportunities for Jordan to get to know his dad better.
He rolled on his side, facing me. “Maybe, we’ll see. Go to sleep, you have practice in the morning. Lots more release moves to do.”
I felt his hand land on my back, rubbing it gently. “My parents would have really loved you,” I mumbled. “Well, maybe not my dad…”
“My mom and my sister would have loved you,” he whispered.
I thought I heard his voice catch, but I didn’t open my eyes. We’d already had enough emotion for one day without opening old wounds.