Stars

Jordan clutched the note in his hand, falling back onto their bed. As much as he was panicking on the inside, he knew he needed to act as calm as he could so he wouldn’t freak himself out even more. First, he reached for his cell phone and texted his boss to let him know he wouldn’t be into work tomorrow, grabbed a cigarette and popped it into his mouth and lit it up. Then, he dialed Dahlia Rosewood’s number.

Dahlia was Natasha’s younger sister that lived about 15 minutes away. This was very convenient, seeing as Jordan frequently needed to call her to have her either come to the apartment to calm Natasha down, or to help him find her when she ran off like this. The bad thing was that Dahlia always came off very strangely to him, like they had weird vibes or something.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dahlia?” Jordan asked nervously, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Hey. Did something happen to Tasha?”

Jordan almost wanted to laugh, “Yep. She left again.”

Dahlia sighed on the other line, “Where do you think she went?”

“Where she always goes. Where else would she go?”

She nervously laughed; Jordan could hear the stress in her voice. “When do you wanna go looking for her? I feel like we shouldn’t tonight, you know give her a chance to do whatever so she doesn’t completely freak out.”

“Yeah, that would probably be best. I could come pick you up at noon tomorrow. I called into work.”

“Alright. Well, try and get some sleep. Even though I doubt you will. I probably won’t either.”

“Probably not. G’night, Dahlia.”

The casualness of their conversation was near depressing, it only further showed him how much Natasha did things like this; did things that could be verified as crazy.

Jordan hung up the phone and fell back onto the bed, running his hand through his hair; remembering how Lucky did that several times today.

He almost punched himself in the face. How could he be thinking about Lucky? His girlfriend, the love of his life, Natasha, was off with her old drug addict friends, probably shooting up, and he was lying in their bed reminiscing on how Lucky had run her hand through his hair?

But then again, he couldn't wholeheartedly be mad at himself, because truthfully, he didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know if he wanted to be with Natasha, the girl that had been there for him for what seemed like a lifetime, the girl he loved, or Lucky; the girl that gave him life, the girl that didn't make him feel like an exhausted man far beyond his 24 years. He just didn't know.

The next day, he pulled up to the house that Dahlia shared with a few of her friends. Dahlia must have been waiting for him, because as soon as he parked so he could wait for her, she came running out with a smile. This was just one of the strangely eager things Dahlia did when it came to Jordan, so he brushed it off.

“You ready?”

Dahlia turned her head at Jordan, yet again smiling a little too eagerly, “Sure am.”

As Jordan turned down her street, he couldn't help but wonder why Dahlia was in such a good mood. Her older sister, who was her best friend, had just run off on another Bi-Polar rampage and she looked as happy as a fish in its own lake.

In the car, there was small talk between the two. Jordan had so much running through his head; he couldn't really pay attention to Dahlia enough to have any type of conversation more than that.
“Y’know, maybe we shouldn't even try and find her.”

Jordan almost slammed on the break, “What the hell? Are you kidding me?”

Dahlia smirked, looking out her window, “I mean. She does this all the time, Jordan.”

“So? I love her, Dahlia. And you’re her sister. You should want to find her just as much as I do.”

She sighed, trying to find the right words to say, “I do, Jordan. But honestly, well, how do I say this..”

His stomach starting doing backflips again, worried Dahlia was going to tell him something he really didn't want to hear. That possibly Natasha had found someone else, that she had run off with them. This was dreadfully hypocritical, considering his situation with Lucky.

“Maybe we should be together.”

At this point, Jordan knew he had to stop the car. After he pulled over to the side of the road, he had his head in his hands; rubbing his eyes.

“Dahlia what are you talking about?”

She unbuckled her seat belt, turning towards him. Her blue eyes that looked so much like her sister’s were lit up, her heart was hopeful that maybe, just maybe, Jordan would say that he wanted to be with her too, that they would run off together.

“We should be together. I know you’re with my sister, but I've had feelings for you for so long, you deserve someone better than her; someone that can make you happy.”

Jordan almost laughed out loud; he couldn't believe what he was hearing, “Dahlia is this a joke? I really don’t have time for this, we need to find Tasha. She could be anywhere.”

Dahlia slid over even closer to him, a smile spread over her face, “No, I’m not kidding. Aren't I right? We would be so much better together. I've wanted to tell you for-”.

He cut her off, “Dahlia you’re insane. Never would I leave Tasha, the girl I’m in love with, for her younger sister. I just I don’t even get-”

Her eyes began to water up, “Why? Aren't I good enough for you?”

Jordan stared blankly at her, “Get out of the car.”

She was behaving like a crazed fan girl that had just been turned down by some kid in tight pants that sang in a boy band that she for some reason found attractive.

“What?” she was stunned.

“Just. Get out. I don’t have time for this. Get out of the damn car.”

Dahlia couldn't find any words; she just grabbed her purse and got out, “You’ll be sorry! You’ll regret this!”

Jordan drove away, shocked at what had just happened. What in the world could have made Dahlia think he would feel that way about her? At first he couldn't even take what Dahlia was saying seriously, this was absolutely out of nowhere. Of course, he did always find it strange that she was always so eager to talk to him, but he never thought that she had intentions of being with him.

He pulled up to the Balboa, the dingy bar that Natasha always went to when she was feeling like this. The parking lot wasn't even paved, as he pulled up dirt fluttered behind his car. A homeless drunk was in front of the building, an empty bottle of Southern Comfort was in his hand.

When he opened the door, he was ambushed by cigarette smoke and some old Lynyrd Skynyrd song playing loudly on the radio. He walked up to the bartender; all the while his eyes searched the room for Natasha.

“Hey sir?”

The bartender turned around. He looked like he was about in his late 30s, maybe early 40s. He had a five o’ clock shadow, looking like he hadn't shaved in a few days. He had a beer in his hand, and was actually drinking with the customers.

“Yeah? What do you want?”

“Have you seen a girl come through here named Natasha? She has long blonde hair, might look kinda rough right now?”

The bartender took a drink of his beer, “I think so. Never said her name was Natasha though. But a girl that looks like that came through here real late last night; I let her stay in the back with some people she knew.”

Jordan’s stomach dropped, “Is she back there right now?”

“Yep. And some red haired girl just came in here lookin’ for her, said she had to hitch hike.”
Jordan mentally punched himself in the head, that had to of been Dahlia. “Alright, thanks man.”
As he pushed past people to find the back room, a million scenarios ran through his head. Hopefully Dahlia didn't try to do something crazy.

When he opened the door, he saw Natasha sitting on a dirty couch with a guy that looked like he had been up for days; he was taking the belt that had acted as a tourniquet off the top of her arm. Dahlia sat next to Natasha, running her mouth about something.

Natasha looked up to see him standing in the doorway, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jordan walked towards the couch, “I’m here to take you home.”

She stood up; her once caring and loving bright blue eyes turned dull, frantic and angry. “Why the hell would I go home with you? What, do you want me since you can’t have my sister?”

Jordan looked down at Dahlia, she was smirking.

“Are you kidding me? She just told me in the car that she wanted to be with me! I told her no and made her get out!”

Natasha laughed, “Oh, so now you’re calling my sister a liar?”

“Yes, yes I am! Why would I come on to your little sister while I’m driving out here to come and get you?! Are you crazy?!”

Natasha pulled her hand back and smacked Jordan across the face, “Don’t you dare tell me I’m crazy ever again.”

Jordan didn't even have time to yell at her for slapping him; he grabbed her by her tiny arm. “C’mon. We’re leaving.”

Dahlia stood up, “She doesn't want to leave with you.”

“I don’t have time for you Dahlia.”

“What, just because I didn't want to sleep with you in the backseat?”

Jordan was shocked, but he knew he needed to focus on getting Natasha out of the Balboa and home, back where she would be safe.

“Natasha, come on.”

“No! I don’t want to leave with you!”

She started trying to pull away from Jordan, even though she knew he was much stronger than her. She smelled like sweat and cigarettes, he could tell she had been up all night shooting up with these people she called her friends. She somehow managed to rip her arm away from him, and then pushed him away from her.

“I said I don’t want to go with you! I’m a grown woman; I can make my own decisions!”

Natasha grasped her tiny, clammy hand around an empty glass and threw it at Jordan’s head, he ducked and barely missed it. That was that, Jordan didn't have the time nor temper to deal with this. He dove at her, scooping her up with his arms and swinging her over his shoulder. He felt beyond ridiculous carrying a grown woman kicking and screaming out of a bar this way, but it had to do.

Luckily, she was quite a bit smaller than him so he successfully secured her in the car. Although, at this point she decided it’d be better and quite a bit less embarrassing if she stopped fighting him. As he drove out of the Balboa parking lot, the car was silent.

“So why did you try and get at Dahlia?”

Jordan scoffed, he couldn't believe Natasha believed what Dahlia had told her; it was beyond ridiculous. To him; cheating on Natasha with Lucky was one thing, but cheating on her with Dahlia? That was going way too far, to him at least.

“I didn't. I don’t even want to discuss this with you right now or tell you what even happened, because you’re high out of your mind and pissed; you won’t listen to me, so I’m not going to waste my breath.”

Natasha sighed and looked out the window, sort of pouting. She felt like a teenager that was being brought home by her dad after skipping school, she felt defeated almost. For some strange reason, she had the intense desire to just argue with Jordan. Most of her did believe him that what her sister had told her wasn't true, but the tiny part that believed Dahlia overruled all the rest. Maybe it was the heroin, maybe it was the fact she was extremely manic right now; she couldn't decide.

Keeping his eyes on the road, Jordan slid his hand over to the middle console, gently grasping Natasha’s hand in his. In that moment, he was only sure of one thing.

He needed to fix Natasha.

When they got home, Natasha was exhausted. She nearly collapsed on their bed. Jordan could only think of one person to talk to, one thing to do. And that was to call Lucky.

He stepped out onto the small balcony that stretched off of their tiny living room, lighting a cigarette. Part of him knew he shouldn't be calling her, but he did anyways. That’s one thing Jordan and Natasha had in common; they always had mixed feelings about something, no matter what it was. They could never be too sure about something.

After what seemed like an eternity of ringing, Lucky answered.

“Hello?”

Her voice was like serenity for him, like paradise. It was sultry and low, but not the kind of low that could make her sound like a man. The kind of low that dripped with secrecy and sex; the two pillars their relationship was built off of. But of course, the pillar of secrecy would soon fall.

“Hey babe,” Jordan’s voice was dry, tired.

“What’s wrong?” Even though she didn't really have any emotional ties to him, Lucky could sense that something was wrong, and she was curious to find out what it was.

“Natasha. She left last night and I had to go get her today.”

Lucky sneered, “Wow. That’s quicker than usual. Usually the crazy broad is gone for a week.”
He laughed a little and took a drag from his cigarette, “Yeah I know. But I feel like I had to get her sooner than I usually do. She’s really going downhill.”

Lucky sighed of boredom, rolling over in bed. She silently wished to herself that she could pull of the I-care-façade without having to listen to his endless complaining and worrying about Natasha. “How so?” she asked, trying her best to sound concerned.

“Well I can’t really explain it. Just, things have been getting worse. Like, this stuff is happening more and more frequently and I just don’t know if I can take it with her anymore, I’m starting to think she’s going to kill herself soon. Or at least try.”

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in Lucky’s head, she sat up in excitement.

“Well you know,” once again Lucky manipulated her voice to sound as if she cared, “I’m pretty sure if you can prove she’s a danger to herself, which she obviously is, you can have her committed. Y’know, to the hospital or whatever. If you thought that’s what you needed to do.”

Jordan sighed, taking a final drag off of his cigarette before throwing it off the balcony and down into the street, the smoke mixing with the cool night air.

“Maybe.”