Picking Up the Pieces

I bit my lip as I slammed the door shut. My heart accelerated and I could feel my hands starting to shake.

“Who was it, honey?” Mom asked from the kitchen.

“N-nobody,” I stuttered.

Mom came into the hall, wearing an apron and carrying a wet rag and a saucepan. “It couldn’t have been nobody,” she said. She noticed me and suddenly went into over-protective mother mode. “What happened, sweetheart? Did someone hurt you?”

Someone hurt me alright, I said silently.

Why was Jordan here? What was she doing back after four years? She leaves and never comes in contact. Not once. I thought we were friends!

She looked so different. I mean, how the hell was I supposed to know it was her? Her long, wavy hair changed to short, curly hair. Her kaleidoscope eyes changed to this electric blue that just seemed to look right through me. She had a piercing on her lip and three on each ear. Plus she had a tattoo on her shoulder! Four years can really do a lot to someone. Not that it looked bad...because it didn’t. It suit her look.

It was her expression that seemed changed the most. Her face had a really hard edge to it, even more than before. It didn’t look like she had smiled for a while, and her look said “I’ve seen everything and everyone. I don’t expect anything from you.” It scared me a little.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mom asked, putting down the rag and running to me. “Let me give this person a piece of my mind!”

“No, Mom,” I choked out. “The person didn’t hurt me.”

She paused. “Oh. Well then.” She went to the door anyway and opened it up to reveal a very bored-looking Jordan staring at her wrist-watch. Mom immediately brightened and turned over her shoulder to wink at me.

“Hi, Mrs. Travel,” she said politely, forcing a smile.

“I thought you were coming tomorrow, dear!” So Mom knew? What was going on?

“I didn’t want to cause too much trouble,” she replied, her face hardening. Mom didn’t notice. How couldn’t she? Or maybe it’s just because I used to hang around her so often, I could see through her masks.

“It was no trouble to pick you up!” Mom exclaimed, clearly miffed.

Jordan smiled a little. Just a little. “I can handle myself at this age. I’ve lived alone for quite a long time.” And here I was, still living with my parents.

“Well, you need a little loving from us, then!” Jordan’s smile disappeared.

“You don’t need to go through so much trouble for me,” she said hesitantly. Clearly she wasn’t used to people doing anything for her.

“Of course we do! It’s your turn to relax and let others wait on you.”

“Mrs. Travel?” she asked.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Do I have to live here? Can’t I live with my friend in my old house?”

Mom looked really surprised. “Of course not, my dear! You must live with us! After all, you’re almost one of the family.” Almost one of the family...what? Is that just a figure of speech?

Jordan’s face lost all expression. “May I at least visit?”

“Of course! You can stay there as long as you want--” She brightened. “--as long as you come back here to sleep.” She dimmed, and her tongue fiddled with her lip ring. It looked pretty cool.

I wished she would smile sincerely -- like she used to. But the pretty, happy Jordan was gone. If you could even call her happy back then. Now, she was replaced by the mysterious, beautiful Jordan. I wonder how she would look when smiling. Probably more gorgeous than before.

Have I not moved on yet? Four years of no Jordan, but plenty of plastic barbies...how could I not have found another one I loved as much as her? What happened to the saying, “there are plenty of fish in the sea”? I hated the feeling of knowing you love someone, but knowing they could never love you back. I guess I deserved it.

“Where will I sleep then, Mrs. Travel?” Jordan asked politely, interrupting my thoughts.

“Call me Julie, dear!” Mom scolded cheerfully. “But you’ll have to bunk with Luke, I’m afraid.” My eyes widened as I tried not to yell. What did she just say?

“There are no other rooms?” Jordan pleaded. Ouch. That was cold.

Mom shook her head. “Our one guest bedroom is going to be taken up by Molly and Mark. And Luke’s siblings are going to be coming to visit soon as well. We’ll have a full house soon!”

“May I sleep on the floor, then?”

“Oh, don’t worry, my dear, Luke sleeps in a bunk bed. You can have the top bunk, since he’s scared of it.”

“Mom!” I exclaimed. “I’m not scared!”

I could read Jordan’s expression clearly: “You go on the scariest Six Flags rides, but you’re scared of a bed six feet off the ground?”

“Of course, Luke,” Mom said in her cheerful sarcastic way. I’m not scared of the bed! I’m just...scared I’ll fall off and break my neck...

“So Mark and Molly are coming?” I said to direct Mom away from the subject of my bed.

“Yes, dear. And they’re bringing Scott.” Scott was their adorable two year old son. I think he hated me. I don’t know why, but the first time I saw Scott, he bit my butt. And that was when he didn’t even have any teeth!

“That’s great,” Jordan said, a little emotion coloring her deathly pale face.

Mom smiled impishly. “They’ll be able to give you advice on how to get along with each other!”

Jordan’s face lost that little emotion. Was the idea of getting along me really so bad? Or was she hiding something?

“What are you talking about Mom?” I asked.

“I’ll just go find Luke’s room,” Jordan interjected hurriedly, running off upstairs with her things. I guess she’s still a track expert.

“Well Mom?” I said expectantly.

Mom smiled her fake smile. The one that said “I’m going to give you news that you will either take as bad or good but don’t explode in my face because I am only the messenger.” She had been giving me that smile a lot lately, but she never explained why.

“You see, Luke...you are getting married.”

“What?” I yelled, aghast. “Who? When? Where? Why?” At the same time, I was thinking, “What does this have to do with Jordan?”

“You are getting married,” she repeated slowly. “We haven’t decided a date or venue, but you’re getting married because of a contract our ancestors signed. As for who...”

“Who, Mom?” I asked, though I had a vague idea.

“Jordan.”

No more girls. No more one night stands. No more kisses to girls I had no clue who they were. No more hard-core partying. But I had Jordan.

That’s not so bad.