For You

September 1st, 2010
3:10 PM
Location – Chicago, Illinois
Jordan

“Heather, can we not fight for a good hour or so?”
“Jordan, why are we even going to this dinner?”
“There our family friends, it would be nice if you could pretend you’re excited.”

Heather rolls her eyes as Marc and Lindsay are in the backseat trying to contain themselves from laughing at mine and Heathers argument. I continue driving on the interstate as I feel my phone vibrate. I pull it out of my pocket and smile when I see the following pop up on the caller ID, Azalia the Coolest Italian Ever.

“I’m on the interstate,” I say as I put the phone to my ear.
“Really Doctor Faggot? Really?”
“Yes, really and since when is my name Doctor Faggot?”
“Hurry it up, I’m hungry. Did you bring the witch along?”
“Yes, Heather is with me.”
“Looking forward to meeting her. Carry on now.”

I laugh as I hang up the phone and put it down in the cup holder. Heather is just looking at it now as I look back at Marc and Lindsay as I try to switch lanes. “I swear the two of you are worse than Azalia and Jared when they talk on the phone,” Marc laughs.

“Please, I’d rather be Doctor Faggot than Ginger Without a Soul Staal in someone’s phone book.”
“Azalia the coolest Italian? Who is she?” Heather sneers at me.
“The girl who were going to dinner with.”
“Do you really have to talk to her, really?”
“She’s my friend Heather, relax.”

I get off the interstate as Heather makes it clear she’s pissed at me. I look back at Marc as we pull up to a red light as he mouths the words “dump her ass” to me. I shrug my shoulders. It wasn’t easy to just say we’re over, it was actually hard and I didn’t have the balls to do so.

“Do you think we can all just play nice tonight?” I ask to no one in particular.

It wasn’t that Azalia hated Lindsay; she’s never even met her. I do though have a feeling she has it bad for Marc, which doesn’t really surprise me at all. Every girl had it bad for Marc. Also, if someone pissed Azalia off, she’ll just bitch them out, which is what will probably happen if Heather and Azalia go at it tonight at dinner. “I’m game, I get along with pretty much everyone,” Lindsay smiles from the back seat. This was true, Lindsay always got a long with everyone, no matter if they were mean to her or nice, she was always nice back. I think that’s what I liked about Lindsay, she could never be mean - even if she really tried, she just couldn't do it

We pull up to the street and I shut the car off. I look over at Heather, who looks like she’s ready to let Niagra Falls stream down the side of her face. I look back at Marc and Lindsay, who are still trying to contain themselves from laughing. I open the car door and all three follow my lead as we begin walking toward the driveway, where we see Jared on the ground trying to keep the soccer ball away from Azalia.

“God Jared, give up the damn ball already!” She yelled.
“Screw you Azalia, don’t touch Wilson!”
“Wilson is a volleyball you dumbshit!”

In true Azalia fashion, she’s kicking Jared until he gives up the ball, which he does eventually. I look over at my brother, Heather, and Lindsay. Lindsay is cracking up to the fact that Jared got his ass kicked by a girl, Marc is contemplating revoking Jared’s man-card, and Heather doesn’t look amused.

“Hi to you two!” Marc yells at the two of them.
“Oh hey!” Azalia yells before turning over to see Lindsay. “You must be Lindsay. I’m Azalia.”
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Hey Jordan,” She smiles at me now.
“Hey you crazy Italian.”

She then turns to look at Heather, whose hands are on her hips. Azalia rolls her eyes as Heather looks over at her, staring her up and down. I watch Azalia clear her throat, bringing Heather back to reality as she finally brings her face to stare at Azalia.

“What are you staring at?” Heather snaps at her.
“You must be Heather,” she smiles.
“And your Azalia…what a joy to finally meet you.”
“Same to you…I guess.”
“So, are we going to get food finally?” I ask no one in particular.

We all race into the house and grab plates, due to the fact that dinner was supposed to start a half hour ago. I take a look at the counter and see everything Italian in trays: pasta in marinara sauce, chicken Parmesan, chicken marsala, and pasta with shrimp and broccoli. Plus, there was a basket of breadsticks and salad. Knowing Azalia’s mother, she was going to have desert and most likely send us home gaining ten pounds or more.

I gather my plate with pasta with shrimp and chicken marsala, grab a beer and head for the table. Sitting next to Jared was Azalia, who had a few breadsticks, pasta with shrimp, and both types of chicken in her plate. She looked at me and smiled. “Bitch, I’m hungry,” she laughs.

“Clearly,” I smile back at her.
“I’m sure,” Heather mumbles.

If there was one thing you needed to know about Azalia, she had excellent hearing. She could hear anything and everything, whether it was in English or Italian. She looked up at Heather, as she continues to chew on her breadstick. She finally swallows and drops the remaining piece back in her plate. “Implying something my dear?”

“Obviously.”
“I’d say something back to retaliate, but I have class,” Azalia smiles at her as she picks up the breadstick and takes another bite.
“Just keep eating that breadstick now,” Heather mumbles again.
“Heather, really, stop now,” I say to her but Azalia is heated now.
“Tell your hair dresser next time to not make your hair look like shit,” Azalia smiles at her, adding a wink.

This was going to go two ways: good or ugly. I was beginning to hope it could possibly go both ways, but knowing Azalia, she was only going to have it go one way, and depending on her mood, which I have a feeling she was in a sarcastic bitch mood at the moment, it was going to go good.

“Excuse me?”
“You damn well heard me,” she smiled.
“Whatever, atleast I don’t dress like a white trash rock star groupie.”

I watch Azalia evaluate what she is wearing, which was a pair of jeans and a black tank top, which her boobs looked perky in. I don’t even know why the thought of her boobs came in, but it was the truth. I didn’t think she looked like a rock star groupie, I thought she looked like a girl her age. She looks up and puts on a little smirk.

“I may look like a rock star groupie, but atleast I don’t look like overall white trash.”

Jared chokes on his chicken as Lindsay covers her mouth with her napkin. I look at Marc, who is trying to contain himself from laughing his ass off. I bring my attention to Azalia, who looks pissed off now, as Heather clears her throat. “You’re messing with the wrong girl right about now.”

“Nahh, I just found myself a challenge…and you’re my prey.”

With that, Azalia gets up and goes outside. No one says anything; we are just sitting there, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. I push my chair and get up, but feel Heathers handgrip onto mine. “What are you doing?”

“Going to check on my friend. I asked you if we could all get along, clearly that wasn’t the damn case.”

I walk outside to find Azalia staring out into the back yard. Her hands are in her back jean pocket while her back is facing me. I slide the door quietly and walk over to her, trying to make little to no sound. “Jordan, I’m sorry,” she says without even turning around.

“I’m not here to yell at you, believe me,” I tell her.
“Then why are you out here?”
“I wanted to check on you, that’s all.”
“I feel like the world is just bringing me down lately.”
“You shouldn’t feel like that, really.”
“I really don’t like Heather.”
“Trust me, I can tell…by the way, I like it when a girl has curves to them.”

The look she gives me makes me want to melt. She gives me a smirk and a laugh, which makes me want to laugh too. I catch her blush a little bit as I realize what came out of my mouth. I usually don’t have the balls to tell a girl what I just said. “Thanks Jordan,” she smiles.

“I got your back Azalia,” I tell her as I pull her into a shoulder hug.
“Just dump her ass soon, you deserve a nice girl.”
“I’ll get on that…at one point in my life.”

It was at that given moment that I knew Azalia would probably never know I had more feelings for her than what she thought. She just considered me as a friend, but if anything, I’d consider her as the girl I wanted to be with. I squeeze her shoulder a bit as she stands on her tiptoes and plants one on my cheek. I look down at her and she goes back to her normal height and give her a smirk. “I’m always going to have your back.”

“You promise?”

I keep looking at her, as she wraps her free arm around my waist. She looked like a midget next to me, but I didn’t care. She’s staring back at me, waiting for my response. I smile at her and hug her back, realizing I really wanted to be with her. “Azalia, when I make a promise…I never ever break that promise.”