By Christmas Eve my hand is completely back to normal and Captain is able to get around on his own. Now he gets to sleep on a giant plush bed Kelly bought for him that sits in the corner of my room. Which is good for when all the relatives come. Kids seem to have a short memory when it comes to instructions, and we don’t want them hurting Captain or, worse, have him bite someone because he’s being hurt. So he gets to spend Christmas in my temporary room. He doesn’t seem to mind.
Christmas Eve dinner is nothing short of an event at the Smith-Franks’s house. All the same people who were at Thanksgiving show up and most of them stay the night. The couches are littered with small children vying for sleeping space, while the adults take the guest rooms. The meal is every bit as delicious as Thanksgiving. And I don’t even like ham. I don’t know how Kelly does it. She should have her own restaurant or something.
After the big meal, we all gather by the giant fire and Henry plays the guitar again. And again Kelly forces wine on everyone, I think so she’s not the only one getting sloshed. The main difference between Christmas and Thanksgiving is that Jordyn doesn’t hide her affection for me. She sits on my lap and boldly kisses me in front of everyone. All the young cousins “ew” and all the adults tease us. They also give Henry and Kelly a hard time for letting me stay in the house. “I hope you’re keeping an eye on Jordyn’s door to make sure there’s no funny business going on right under your nose,” Patricia teases.
My face is the temperature of the fire and I’m sure it’s much redder than Jordyn’s is.
Henry and Kelly exchange a look that says they’re completely aware that we’re having sex right under their noses. Then they laugh and kiss.
What is even happening?
Jordyn snuggles up to my ear and whispers, “Mom knows, and I imagine she told Henry. They’re fine as long as we’re, you know, being safe. They’d rather we do it here than in the back of one of our cars or something.”
I wish the floor would open up and swallow me. I can’t look at Henry or Kelly ever again. I will have to find a new job now. I will have to move and change my name and start a new life as Stuart Longfellow. Somewhere Henry and Aslan—oh, god, Aslan. I can’t even glance in his direction—can never find me.
Jordyn is giggling on my lap and I want to be like, “What is wrong with you?” but, thankfully, someone’s changed the subject to one of the cousins starting private school.
“You’re not mad, are you?” Jordyn says into my neck.
I turn to face her with a tight smile. “You’re lucky I love you. Where’s your dad right now? Is he looking at me?”
She laughs and kisses me again. “Don’t worry. He’s totally oblivious.”
At least there’s that. Not that I’m all that afraid of Aslan, but he strikes me as the kind of guy who has moves you don’t expect, like castrating the daughter’s boyfriend with one easy flick of his wrist.
? ? ?
The days after Christmas are spent helping Jordyn fill out forms and writing essays and organizing her portfolio. My favorite is how she uses photographs she’s taken of things so close up they’re unrecognizable and draws from the texture to paint something that incorporates the photo. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, not that I’m so well-versed. Watching her get lost in a piece . . . it’s like when an entire practice day felt like about ten minutes. I wonder if I’ll ever have that again. And then I realize, like whiplash, why the hell can’t I?
After working up the nerve for a few days, I finally run the idea by Jordyn of writing Stanford a letter explaining my situation, and when I do, she literally jumps up and down. At first I thought it was gross to play the sympathy card like that, but then I started writing and I realized I wasn’t bullshitting. I want this. Like, really want it. It’s like Jordyn said, I have choices. I choose to do something.
I hesitate before dropping the letter to Stanford in the mailbox, but Jordyn snatches it out of my hand and drops it in before I can change my mind. Then she kisses me deeply right there in front of the post office and I’m not even fazed by the public make-out.
? ? ?
And then the worst thing happens: Winter break comes to an end.
THIRTY-ONE
Jordyn helps me come up with a story that’ll keep Captain at her house for the rest of the school year. I know she really wants me to tell her parents the truth. I know she hopes they’ll offer to let me stay too. But if I stay much longer, Dad will figure things out, and he could do something to any of them.
“So we’ll call the cops and he’ll go to jail and then you’ll be safe,” Jordyn says, after I explain my reasoning for the four hundredth time.
“You don’t get it,” I snap. This conversation is wearing on my nerves. I know she means well, but she doesn’t know my dad. I take a breath, calming down. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I know. And I know you’re afraid—”
“Of course I’m afraid. He will hurt you.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“Look what he did to Captain!”
“That’s my point exactly!” Jordyn’s losing patience too.
“I can take care of myself. But if I have to worry about you or Kelly or Henry, even, I won’t be able to function.”