Between Two Lungs

"Heroin?" Jordan repeated, his mouth hanging open. "Are you kidding me?"

"You wanted the truth," Mae snapped. "So I'm telling you the truth."

He stared at the wall opposite from where they sat and let out an audible breath. "Wow," he murmured. "That's...kind of a lot to process all at once."

"It's a needle, Jordan," Mae droned. "What else could it really have been?"

"Suspecting that something is one thing and hearing someone confirm it are two different things," he said in a quiet voice. He looked at Mae, her dark eyes reflecting the worry on his face. "How long have you been using?"

"Using what?" she asked, sounding almost sarcastic. "The pills, the acid, or the needles?"

Jordan clenched and unclenched his jaw. "All of them."

"It started off with weed," Mae recalled, picking stray threads off of her jeans. "I've been a smoker since I was thirteen. The weed started sometime in high school. I can't really remember. Then when I moved to New York, I met this guy named Gary and he and some friends introduced me to X. Then about a month after that, it was the acid. And the heroin only started a little over a week ago."

"A week ago?" Jordan repeated. "You mean...you were using when I was over at your apartment?"

"No," she corrected. "It was the day after you left. When I found out that you took my stash."

"I took it to help you," he sighed. "I never wanted it to escalate this much..."

"If it helps you any, it isn't your fault," she told him, smiling weakly. "I've been pretty fucked up since I was a kid."

Both of them stayed quiet for a little while, the sounds of Henry and Linda coming home from the store invading the silence. Jared was still out, and Marc was downstairs playing on the family's xBox.

Jordan looked down at Mae until she returned his gaze. He held it there, searching her eyes for for the answers to a question he was almost afraid to ask.

"What?" she finally said, her voice sounding tired.

"I don't want to ask you this and have you get mad at me," he replied quietly.

Mae laughed dryly. "There's nothing else you could possibly ask me that would get me mad at this point, Jordan. I think my entire life story is on the table now."

"Except one part," he corrected. Mae nibbled on her lower lip and went back to looking at the ground. "That painting that I bought from you...that little boy wasn't just your neighbour, was he?"

"How could you tell?"

"I saw the look in your eyes when you were telling me the story," he answered. "I could just see that you were lying."

Mae's lips twitched upward into the tiniest of smiles. "I guess I'm not as good a liar as I thought."

Jordan's expression mimicked hers. "I guess not."

Mae sighed, trying to control the waver in her words. "His name was Gabriel," she began. "He was my little brother."

Jordan pursed his lips together and urged her to continue. "What happened?"

"When he was seven, I was ten. It was supposed to be a perfect day, the one time that both my parents had the day off from work. We packed a picnic lunch and went to the park near my house, this huge, vast field where Gabe and I used to always play when we were younger. Everything felt...normal, you know? Like for once, something in my life was going right."

Her lower lip quivered as she kept going.

"Then we started playing tag, like we always did. But h-he was running so fast, and I couldn't catch him and h-he ran into the street, and then--"

Just the thought of the accident made Mae burst into tears again. Jordan held her close, whispering encouraging words into her ear.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything else," he mumbled against her hair. "It wasn't your fault."

"It was," she managed to say. "If I had kept a better eye on him, or if I had told him that he was getting too close to the street, I could have saved him," she cried. "It's my fault he's dead."

Jordan held Mae arms length away so that he could look at her entire face. "Mae, look at me."

She wouldn't.

"Mae," he repeated calmly. "I need you to look at me. For just a second."

It took her a while to control how badly she was shaking, but she finally looked up into Jordan's eyes.

"You can't change the past no matter how hard you try. If you keep holding onto every regret that you have, you're not going to be able to live with yourself. Just try to take life one day at a time, alright? I need you to promise me that."

"I don't know if I can."

"Promise me you'll try."

Mae never once broke eye contact with Jordan. In a small voice, she said, "Jordan, I need to get help."

"Maybe you could go to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting when you go back to New York," he offered. "They can help you. I'm sure of it."

Mae leaned her head against Jordan's shoulder, breathing in the scent that she missed so much but was afraid to admit. "You'll help me too, right Jordan?"

He nodded soberly. "Of course I will."

"I don't want Marc to know."

"Then we won't tell him."

"He'll know that something's different."

"I promise you, Mae," Jordan sighed, rubbing Mae's shoulder gently. "He won't find out."

"What if he does?" she quivered. "Marc's my best friend. I can't lose him."

"We'll deal with that when and if the time comes," he told her, kissing the top of her head. "Don't worry. I'll be with you the whole time."

Mae smiled, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "Thank you, Jordan."

"Don't mention it," he replied, nudging her playfully. "Just remember, life isn't easy and neither is admitting that you have a problem. But I'll be there to help you any way that I can. No matter how alone you feel, just remember that there's someone out there who loves you."

Mae bit her lip. "You love me, Jordan?"

He lifted her chin and placed a sweet kiss on her lips. "I do."

"You barely know me," she said breathlessly as his mouth remained hovered over hers.

"And you barely know me," he said in return. "But I feel like if I hadn't met you that day when my team played Marc's, my life wouldn't be the same." He kissed her again.

"Do you want me to tell you that I love you back?"

"Would you mean it?"

"I've never been in love before, remember?" She bit back a tiny grin. "I don't know what it feels like."

"Take some time then," he said. "The last thing I want is for you to lie to yourself again."

Mae wrapped her arms around Jordan's torso, not wanting to let go. "Thank you."

"You already thanked me," he chuckled. "You don't have to keep saying it."

"No, I do," she replied. "So...thank you. For not judging me."

"You're welcome," he whispered back. And they sat like that for what felt like hours, not saying another word to each other. But words didn't need to be said. The identical rhythm of their beating hearts was enough.