Ignorance is Kind

The person at the door was my buddy Jordan, and the fact that when he saw Matt sitting on my couch next to me his face turned red unsettled the excitedness I'd previously had about the coming night.

I tried to smile at him, to make him throw his obvious jealousy away, but it didn't work. I wanted to leave with Jordan as soon as possible, because it was a little awkward to be sitting in the same room with my history teacher, whom a was a bit infatuated with, and one of my best friends, who happened to be infatuated with me.

I jumped up from the couch and turned to look at Matt. My voice was uneven when I started speaking. "I'll be leaving now. It was nice talking to you, Matt. Oh, and make sure Zack doesn't get into trouble."

He grinned, and I could feel the anger radiating off of Jordan from where he stood behind me. "It was great talking to you, too. And I'll try. I can't make any guarantees."

I laughed then walked over and slipped on some shoes. I made sure my keys were in the pocket of my shorts and waved at Matt before walking out the door. I grabbed Jordan's hand and pulled him away with me quickly; before his brain could hatch any murderous ideas.

Once we were on the street he yanked his hand free from mine. "Matt?" he asked. Though his question wasn't very explanatory, I understood it perfectly.

"Yes, Matt," I said, voice strong.

"Since when do we call our history teachers, or any of our teachers for that matter, by their first names?"

"Since I found out that our history teacher is my cousin's best friend?"

He sighed and stalked ahead of me. I knew exactly where he was going, and so I didn't bother to catch up with him. He needed his own space at that moment and I was going to respect that.

When we got to our destination, the park, Jordan immediately walked over and sat on the ground by an old tree that was next to the swings. I sat on the swing closest to him. I felt bad; I didn't want him angry at me over something I couldn't control.

It was silent for almost ten minutes. The seconds that ticked by once we'd established that neither one of us was going to move were agony. I decided to end it.

"Jordy," I whined, leaning around one of the swing set poles to look at him. "Will you push me?"

He blink at me for a few seconds. "Are you five?"

I stared at him, eyes wide with innocence. "Yes."

He laughed, finally, and stood up. He brushed off his jeans, then walked over and took hold of the chains on either side of my head. He pulled back, then pushed forward and I was off.

*

I laid on the cool grass on the outer part of the playground with Jordan sitting next to me. We'd had a great afternoon. Jordan and I had talked and laughed and played, just like old times; just like nothing was different.

I turned my head to look at him, and he was staring down at me. His forehead was creased in deep thought. He didn't even notice that I was looking at him.

I touched his hand. "Jord?"

"What?" He shook his head.

"Are you alright?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. I just- Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can."

"Why do you like him?"

I bit my lip. "It's hard to say... Why?"

Again, he shrugged. "Just trying to figure out why you don't like me."

I stared at him for a few seconds in bewilderment. I sighed. "Jordan, I think I want to go home now."

He nodded, already standing up. "Of course you do."