Like I Would
11
“Morning sleepy,” I froze when I heard the deep baritone voice yawning beside me, and eventually braved looking up. Jordan’s big blue eyes looked down at me, and finally I relaxed, remembering why he was here.
“Morning,” I replied, sitting up properly and stretching. My back made several loud pops, the bones returning to their rightful place after having been positioned funny all night.
“You slept like a rock – I woke up twice and you were just out for the count,” he teased, and while my face heated up I shrugged.
“Can’t help it – I’ve always been that way,” I told him, and he chuckled.
“I remember. You’re the only person I knew who could sleep through Marc’s snoring,” he chuckled, and I felt my heart stop momentarily at the mention of his name.
“Yeah, I guess so eh?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” I looked over to see his brow furrowed slightly, confusion blurring the bright blue of his eyes as he watched me. He knew something was off but couldn’t tell what in his sleepy state. It caused a slight panic, knowing I was so easy to read.
“N-no, it’s uh, okay. It’s just kind of hard to think back to all that sometimes. I mean, it’s when dad…”
Recognition lit up his face and he immediately grimaced. I felt terrible fibbing – even though a lot of things Marc related did make me think of my father – but I couldn’t afford for Jordan to know how I felt about Marc. That I still had feelings for Marc, even though I hadn’t seen him in years and I knew he was happily engaged. I couldn’t be that person, even though I had no idea why mention of him still had such a huge impact on me even when my brain was so overwhelmed with everything about my dad.
“I’m so sorry – I never even thought… he and Marc were pretty close, weren’t they?” I nodded, unable to answer him vocally. Dad always teased us that Marc was the boy he’d never had, and I knew Marc had loved every minute of the attention my father gave him. Dad would drive me out hours to watch one of Marc’s games, and dad was always more than happy to help him work on parts of his game, or make him supper between us doing homework and his hockey practices. We were almost our own little family – one so tangled with the Staals it was hard to pick out where one had ended and the other began. But while we’d been so close with the Staals, Marc had always been miles closer to my dad than any of the other boys had.
“Yeah – dad always used to tell us Marc was the son he never had,”
“Marc took the news pretty hard… he hadn’t even known your dad was sick. When Nat and Jared told everyone they’d seen you and why you came home… Jared said Marc looked terrible. He wants to come see you but I don’t think he knows if he should or not,” Jordan told me, unknowingly making my chest ache.
“Why’s that?”
“Because you guys haven’t talked in like seven years. I don’t know what happened there but I figure something happened and that’s why we haven’t heard boo from you since then. I think he’s a little scared, to be honest. He misses you, even if he won’t admit it to anyone and kinds of skirts any of the conversation about it. He got all overprotective and shit when I said I was coming over,” I was shocked to hear this from Jordan, whose sheepish expression told me there was a little more to the story than that.
“And why on earth would he do that?” I asked, and his face heated up the slightest bit.
“Because I may have made a comment or two about you having grown into your legs and being a babe…” I never thought I’d see the day when Jordan Staal was embarrassed and blushing. But here I was, and I was nearly in the same state. I was stunned that he’d have made those comments about me let alone having admitted to them in front of me. Talk about more than just a little awkward.
“You… he… what?”
“I know… but I mean it’s true, and then he got all snippy at me and told me to not even think about it,” he shrugged, obviously too embarrassed to elaborate any further than he already had.
I wasn’t sure what to think about this. Was Marc being snippy because Jordan had grown into a bit of a habit for chasing girls and was somehow worried I’d fall for that, or because he maybe still felt the way he had in high school? It was a little overwhelming to say the least.
“I don’t know what to say…”
“Well you can say thanks to the compliment part – your legs are amazing,” and just like that we were back to goofball Jordan making jokes and playfully dropping lines. I rolled my eyes at him, making him laugh before standing up and stretching properly.
“Well thanks, I guess,”
“I should get heading home, or everyone will be riding my ass about it. But I mean it – if you ever need anything just let me know, okay? Or come out to mom and dad’s, everyone would be really happy to see you,” he insisted, and I mutely nodded as he leaned in for a hug. He gathered up his stuff and left, and it wasn’t until I could no longer hear the engine of his truck that I really moved from my spot.
It was actually possible that maybe Marc did still have some of the feelings from before. The rational side of me argued otherwise, because he was engaged – to Angie no less – and that it just didn’t make sense. Marc had always looked out for me like a brother, and this had to be one of those instances. But the romantic in me wanted desperately to believe otherwise, that maybe he still felt the same way and that maybe things could be different.
Minus the part where the whole town would immediately call me a home wrecker. The ‘romantic’ in me really hadn’t sorted out all those details that would undoubtedly accompany such a thing as the romantic, Notebook-esque scene my imagination had playing.
“Morning,” I replied, sitting up properly and stretching. My back made several loud pops, the bones returning to their rightful place after having been positioned funny all night.
“You slept like a rock – I woke up twice and you were just out for the count,” he teased, and while my face heated up I shrugged.
“Can’t help it – I’ve always been that way,” I told him, and he chuckled.
“I remember. You’re the only person I knew who could sleep through Marc’s snoring,” he chuckled, and I felt my heart stop momentarily at the mention of his name.
“Yeah, I guess so eh?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” I looked over to see his brow furrowed slightly, confusion blurring the bright blue of his eyes as he watched me. He knew something was off but couldn’t tell what in his sleepy state. It caused a slight panic, knowing I was so easy to read.
“N-no, it’s uh, okay. It’s just kind of hard to think back to all that sometimes. I mean, it’s when dad…”
Recognition lit up his face and he immediately grimaced. I felt terrible fibbing – even though a lot of things Marc related did make me think of my father – but I couldn’t afford for Jordan to know how I felt about Marc. That I still had feelings for Marc, even though I hadn’t seen him in years and I knew he was happily engaged. I couldn’t be that person, even though I had no idea why mention of him still had such a huge impact on me even when my brain was so overwhelmed with everything about my dad.
“I’m so sorry – I never even thought… he and Marc were pretty close, weren’t they?” I nodded, unable to answer him vocally. Dad always teased us that Marc was the boy he’d never had, and I knew Marc had loved every minute of the attention my father gave him. Dad would drive me out hours to watch one of Marc’s games, and dad was always more than happy to help him work on parts of his game, or make him supper between us doing homework and his hockey practices. We were almost our own little family – one so tangled with the Staals it was hard to pick out where one had ended and the other began. But while we’d been so close with the Staals, Marc had always been miles closer to my dad than any of the other boys had.
“Yeah – dad always used to tell us Marc was the son he never had,”
“Marc took the news pretty hard… he hadn’t even known your dad was sick. When Nat and Jared told everyone they’d seen you and why you came home… Jared said Marc looked terrible. He wants to come see you but I don’t think he knows if he should or not,” Jordan told me, unknowingly making my chest ache.
“Why’s that?”
“Because you guys haven’t talked in like seven years. I don’t know what happened there but I figure something happened and that’s why we haven’t heard boo from you since then. I think he’s a little scared, to be honest. He misses you, even if he won’t admit it to anyone and kinds of skirts any of the conversation about it. He got all overprotective and shit when I said I was coming over,” I was shocked to hear this from Jordan, whose sheepish expression told me there was a little more to the story than that.
“And why on earth would he do that?” I asked, and his face heated up the slightest bit.
“Because I may have made a comment or two about you having grown into your legs and being a babe…” I never thought I’d see the day when Jordan Staal was embarrassed and blushing. But here I was, and I was nearly in the same state. I was stunned that he’d have made those comments about me let alone having admitted to them in front of me. Talk about more than just a little awkward.
“You… he… what?”
“I know… but I mean it’s true, and then he got all snippy at me and told me to not even think about it,” he shrugged, obviously too embarrassed to elaborate any further than he already had.
I wasn’t sure what to think about this. Was Marc being snippy because Jordan had grown into a bit of a habit for chasing girls and was somehow worried I’d fall for that, or because he maybe still felt the way he had in high school? It was a little overwhelming to say the least.
“I don’t know what to say…”
“Well you can say thanks to the compliment part – your legs are amazing,” and just like that we were back to goofball Jordan making jokes and playfully dropping lines. I rolled my eyes at him, making him laugh before standing up and stretching properly.
“Well thanks, I guess,”
“I should get heading home, or everyone will be riding my ass about it. But I mean it – if you ever need anything just let me know, okay? Or come out to mom and dad’s, everyone would be really happy to see you,” he insisted, and I mutely nodded as he leaned in for a hug. He gathered up his stuff and left, and it wasn’t until I could no longer hear the engine of his truck that I really moved from my spot.
It was actually possible that maybe Marc did still have some of the feelings from before. The rational side of me argued otherwise, because he was engaged – to Angie no less – and that it just didn’t make sense. Marc had always looked out for me like a brother, and this had to be one of those instances. But the romantic in me wanted desperately to believe otherwise, that maybe he still felt the same way and that maybe things could be different.
Minus the part where the whole town would immediately call me a home wrecker. The ‘romantic’ in me really hadn’t sorted out all those details that would undoubtedly accompany such a thing as the romantic, Notebook-esque scene my imagination had playing.
♠ ♠ ♠
:)