Authors: Danielle Sibarium
“At least sit with me for a minute,” I patted the empty spot on the cement next to me.
“I don’t want to bother you.” He hesitated before joining me.
I noticed him fidgeting with his hands, picking at his fingernails, a nervous mannerism he recently picked up.
I smiled, “You’re never a bother. Really. I’m glad to see you.”
“Me too,” he answered uncomfortably.
I thought for a moment of confessing how much I missed him. How I missed talking to him at night, but immediately pushed the thought from my mind. It served no purpose. If nothing else, he knew how I felt about him.
I hated that things were so weird. They weren’t supposed to be. According to the law, we were adults, yet we were barely mature enough to have a normal conversation.
I looked inside the bag. Art supplies. Paper, pencils, charcoal, paints and brushes. One of the most thoughtful gifts I’d ever gotten.
“What is this?” I asked.
“My way of encouraging you to keep drawing. You have a lot of talent.”
“It’s a silly hobby.”
“There’s nothing silly about it. The paint and brushes are in case you want to challenge yourself to try something new.”
“Thank you.” Our eyes locked, my heart raced. I smiled at him. The same old butterflies fluttered wildly in my belly.
“Don’t thank me. It’s not much.”
Wanting desperately to keep him by my side, I searched for something to say.
“How are things going?” I asked.
“Better.” His eyes darted down to the ground. “Things are starting to feel somewhat normal again.”
“That’s terrific.”
“Yeah.” Jordan’s gaze fell upon my wrist and the new piece of jewelry donned on it. “Nice,” he said as he reached out, displaying it on his index finger for further inspection.
“Thank you.”
“Birthday present?” Was he asking or accusing me?
“Yep.”
“New guy?”
This didn’t feel right. “You really want to know?”
“C’mon, it’s not like I don’t care,” he stopped, turned away and noticed for the first time the motorcycle sitting in the driveway. “So um . . . I guess that’s his motorcycle?”
I nodded.
“Why the hell would you date a guy who rides a motorcycle?” Anger flashed in his eyes. “Do you know how dangerous those things are?”
“Jordan,” I rolled my eyes.
He continued spewing out hot air, “I bet he’s covered in piercings and tattoos.”
“Not piercings, but yes, he has two tattoos.”
He shook his head in what, disgust? Disappointment? “How old is he? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?”
“Twenty-four.”
I thought his eyes along with the rest of his head were going to explode like an overblown balloon, “Are you crazy! He’s older than me!”
“You apparently are the only one hung up on age,” I responded angrily.
“Does your mother know?”
I tried not to laugh but he sounded like a little boy ready to tattle.
“Are you going to tell on me?”
“Does she?” he demanded.
“Yes,” I didn’t disclose she’d only found out moments ago.
“And she’s okay with this?” he asked in disbelief.
“She hasn’t banned me from seeing him if that’s what you’re getting at.” At least not yet.
“This is all a big joke to you.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic.”
“Melodramatic!” He took a deep breath, and stood. “Happy birthday,” he said as he descended the steps.
I knew he was upset, angry even, and I liked it. I felt a deep satisfaction but I didn’t want him to leave.
“Jordan, wait . . . ” I called after him, certain he heard me, but he never turned back.
I stood and watched him wondering about his thoughts and feelings. I hated that I cared. As he walked away, I felt like he took a part of me with him. My heart sunk into my stomach, leaving me aching in the core of my being.
I felt Shawn’s presence behind me. I turned and found him standing on the other side of the screen door.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I answered.
Thirty-Three
I couldn’t wait to be alone. I’d been toying with the idea of calling Jordan to make sure he was okay. I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling I had since he left. I just needed to be by myself so I could figure out what to do.
Getting rid of Shawn turned out to be a challenge. I yawned. I stretched.
“Wow, I’m beat,” I said rinsing the last dish off and making no attempt to move. I remained at the kitchen sink with my eyes closed, smiling.
“Tired?” he pulled my hair away from my neck as his lips brushed softly against my skin. “I bet I can find a way to wake you up,” he whispered.
“Shawn,” I urged in a hushed tone, “my mother’s in the next room.”
“What?” He played dumb. “I’m not allowed to kiss you?”
“Come on,” I pushed him away as I squeezed my way between him and the kitchen counter. “You know what I mean. Besides, I didn’t sleep well last night. I just want to go to bed.” I yawned again, to emphasize my words.
He wasn’t buying it.
Shawn sensed the tension between us immediately after Jordan’s departure.
“You’ve been acting weird ever since your friend showed up,” he accused.
“You’re crazy.”
He looked away, annoyed.
I didn’t care at the moment how Shawn felt. I only cared about getting rid of him. I was distracted and didn’t feel like putting on an act or dealing with his territorial nonsense.
“If he’s just a friend, why didn’t he come inside?”
“Because he had better things to do, I don’t know,” I let out a long frustrated breath.
He shook his head. “There’s more to it.”
“Okay fine, you want to know what his problem is, I’ll tell you.” I explained Jordan’s recent trauma and how lost he seemed since, leaving out all the details about our personal drama.
Still Shawn didn’t believe me. He knew there was more going on and he wouldn’t let it go.
“You’re seeing him, aren’t you?”
“No.” Much to my displeasure. “Not at all.”
“Is he an ex-boyfriend? Was he trying to get back with you?”
“We never dated.” I tried to ease his concern, “and even if we did, what’s the big deal?”
He shook his leg impatiently, “You’re right. No big deal.”
“Good, then let me get a good night’s sleep and I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
I walked him to the door. Before he let me grasp the knob Shawn turned me around and backed me against the door. His arms were on either side of my shoulders. He looked at me with a devilish smile.
“You’re so beautiful,” he kissed my lips and followed a path down my neck. He leaned his body against mine.
Every muscle in my body tensed. I felt adrenaline pumping through me. Warning bells rang. I needed to stop this before it got out of hand.
“Hey.” I put my hands up on his chest. “Good night, Shawn.”
He didn’t argue. He backed up and allowed me to open the front door. I stepped outside and gave him a quick goodnight kiss. I’d never been so thrilled to see him put his helmet over his head. I felt myself start to relax as he hopped on his bike, revved the engine, and took off.
“Let me ask you a question,” I turned toward Maria’s house in reaction to the voice, a boulder forming in the pit of my stomach.
“But really, don’t you think you’re a wee bit too young for him?” Jordan held up his hand pinching his thumb and forefinger together as he approached the wrought iron banister separating our houses.
“Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe the nerve! The gall!
“Jordan, stop,” Maria warned.
“What could you possibly have in common? I’m intrigued, what do you talk about?” Alcohol seeped from his pores.
“Stop it!” Maria yelled.
“Stop what? I’m simply asking a question.” he answered, never taking his eyes off me. After a few moments of silence he continued his barrage, “You seriously think he gives a shit about you?”
Seeing her words were ineffectual, Maria came over and placed a hand on his good shoulder, trying, with no success, to get him to back off.
“He’ll dump you the minute he gets you in bed.”
Fury flooded my judgment. I wanted to tear him apart, but I’d neither the strength nor the razor sharp wit to attack with.
“Because he couldn’t possibly spend one moment with me that’s not focused on getting into my pants?!?”
“Now who’s being melodramatic?”
“You’re an asshole!”
“You’re both going to regret this,” Maria warned.
“I’m an asshole?” He looked surprised, shocked, that I could say such a thing to him. “Let’s see, how many years has it been?”
“What?” I had no idea what he was getting at.
He started counting on his fingers, “Four? Oh that’s right, you’ve wanted me for four years. So if I’m an asshole, what does that make you?”
“Stupid, I guess.”
I couldn’t take anymore. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want to hear him. I didn’t want to be near him. I turned and stomped in my house. The front windows rattled I slammed the door so hard.
He was infuriating! I stormed up to my room, angry, furious. I beat my pillow, pummeling it with my fists, smashing it against the bed. My hands shook. Tears streaked from my eyes. My chest ached. I refused to acknowledge it. I defied my sobbing heart.
How dare I let him hurt me yet again?
Shawn called me first thing in the morning to make plans. Something about the urgency of his tone made me nervous.
“Let’s get together tonight. I have to see you.”
“Can’t. I’m going to the movies with Maria.”
We were going to see the latest and greatest in the wizarding world. I looked at it as an olive branch, falling back into old habits as if the last few weeks hadn’t happened.
“How about after the movie?”
“I need to start packing. I’m moving into the dorm in less than two weeks.”
Shawn accused me of avoiding him and although I thoroughly denied it, I had to ask myself if that was just what I was doing. Had I allowed Jordan to sabotage yet another relationship? No. I couldn’t let that happen.
I agreed to meet him the next evening at his apartment.
I wasn’t looking forward to it.
Maria and I went to the movies to spend “quality time” with one another and yet said almost nothing. What an awkward night! It wasn’t as if we didn’t try. At first we pretended the previous night hadn’t happened but sooner or later, we had to talk about it. Isn’t that what best friends do? Dissect every little detail of their lives?
“Shawn sure is a hottie,” Maria said during the walk home attempting to break the deafening silence.