The Things We Do For Love

R.O.V. Chapter two: Enough

2005-11-13T22:27:35Z

Chapter two: Enough

It was dark, but not dark enough. It was a chilly night, and it helped that there was a warm body to curl up to. It had been a week since his talk with Matt. It was so strange—it all changed so quickly. Why was he thinking of Matt? Why did he have to miss him right then? Who cares if he didn’t call Jordan for the past week? That had nothing to do with what Jordan was doing now, or so the blonde would have liked to believe.

It was really cold, too cold. It was a dark night, and the boy who was touching him really wasn’t a boy. They met on a blind date. Jordan didn’t have many friends—Matt was his best friend, and who consumed nearly all of his time. But that time, it seemed, had been wasted on a relationship that was never to be. It was clear that Matt had an issue with homosexuals; he made it quite apparent to him many times before. They’d be walking behind a queerish looking guy and Matt would make some comment, and the other boy would shuffle off quicker than anything, and Jordan would smile and agree.

That was the way it had always been. Nothing had ever changed. It wasn’t that Matt was particularly hateful, he was just ignorant. Like many people in the small valley town, no one had even known of a gay person. Their social circles revolved around the church that almost everyone went to every Sunday. There the children would learn and the adults would re-affirm that being a homosexual was a sin. Matt was such a nice guy, though. In school, if he saw someone being picked on, he’d intervene for sure—no matter what he thought of the kid being picked on. I guess it was quite hypocritical of him to do so when he “picked” on other kids behind their back. But it all somehow made sense. It’s easy to hate someone you’ve never even seen before.

Fuck, why was he thinking about Matt now? It couldn’t be true what Katie always said about him, or thought about him, or whatever. Jordan wasn’t sure if Katie thought Jordan had a thing for Matt. It wasn’t true, but Jordan was positive that Katie thought he did. After all, two good looking guys that always hung out together was suspicious in itself. But Jordan was so sure Matt would tell Katie, maybe he told her already, and then Katie would tell him what she always assumed from the start, and that would be the end of the friendship of Matt and Jordan.

Seeing as how Matt didn’t call him for a week, chances were he probably called Katie for advice, she in turn slandered Jordan’s name, and Matt decided he didn’t want any trouble with Katie so he hasn’t been calling. God, he hated Katie.

Katie? Matt? What the fuck? Where had this train of thought taken him? Hadn’t he had enough of all this drama? It was time to soak in the moment. Everyone was far away, out of the eye’s range and should be out of the mind’s range, too. Truth be told, there shouldn’t be any thinking being done at all. There was only carnal urges and rhythmic beats then, just the swaying motions and the deep breaths and the silence casually interrupted by small sounds. And there was a heat, but the heat felt so cold.

Jordan knew he didn’t love Andy. Andy was just a momentary thing. Andy wanted him, and Jordan didn’t see any harm in it. They met through friends, Jordan’s friend Sarah knew this other girl who knew this guy—Andy. Andy was from out of town. But that night Andy picked Jordan up and they went out on a blind date. They saw a movie close to no one was going to go see and sat in the seats that were far to the back and in the corner. Jordan guessed it all began there, the touching and the groping in the dark. There were kisses on his neck and small bite marks that made shivers down his spine. There were hands that made everywhere feel welcome and eyes that pleaded for more. So there was more.

Andy was someone beautiful, to say the least. He looked Hispanic—he had that Rico Suave type of appeal. His brown locks were pulled back with a small black comb every five minutes if the hair gel didn’t hold half as well as expected. He was fit, he had style, and he was older, despite not being more mature. He just seemed to want more, more, more.

Jordan was nervous before the date. He had never gone on a date with a guy before, he’d hardly kissed a guy before! He wanted so badly to call Matt, until he realized that Matt was no longer talking to him. He had ignored him all throughout school, and Jordan didn’t bother to remind him of it. The only time they came in contact was when Matt drove him to and from school, and they never talked about last Friday. They didn’t at all, period. He definitely couldn’t call Matt now.

All that there was left was Sarah, who told him to “forget Matt”. Why did everyone think he had a crush on Matt? It was aggravating, to say the least. Sarah said he’d have an enjoyable time, and in truth, he was. The movie had been one thing, but this was so much more. He’d left the movies feeling giddy, although not particularly happy. At the door, there was a long goodbye to Andy—a goodbye that didn’t really end at the door.

No one was home; he remembered telling Andy that, who then used it as an excuse to come inside for a moment. Jordan agreed--Andy did pay for dinner and the movie and gas, he should be allowed in for a drink. Jordan must have seemed so innocent and puerile to not fully know what connotation coming inside “for a drink” really meant. His lips were on the blonde’s neck in a few minutes, his hands everywhere, and Jordan made the stupid suggestion to go “upstairs” with their little venture.

Whatever happened to decency? What ever happened to not sleeping with a guy on the first date? Jordan was new to this dating thing—even at 17—but aren’t you supposed to wait a BIT longer than that? His Superego was not happy, but his Id was positively enraptured in the moment.

They did an awkward backwards dance up the stairs together, and Jordan fumbled with his bedroom door. Andy slightly pushed the blonde onto the bed and took off his leather jacket and shirt and belt. Jordan’s heart was racing. This was too much. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this. This was too much.

But it was too late to turn back now. His white cotton tee was off in a moment, and his stifling, tight blue jeans were next. Sarah, his ever-concerned friend, said to wear them: that he’d get laid “for sure” if he wore the outfit. Jordan laughed, and wore it only as a means to prove her wrong later. No one had really shown an interest in Jordan before now. Sure, he had a nice, pretty face—but that was it—he was too pretty. He was pretty and skinny and couldn’t play any sport that well. The girls thought he was too much of a girl to be taken seriously as a prime dating material. Jordan thought this Andy guy would ignore him like all the rest did. But he didn’t.

When Andy showed up at his door, he was holding flowers and smiling. When he saw the blonde, he looked like he had a stroke. Jordan caved right away, feeling insecure and unattractive. He even asked if Andy still wanted to go out tonight if he was that disappointed in the way Jordan looked. Andy nearly died with laughter. And then Andy asked, without any restrictions, if he was still a virgin. Jordan was so embarrassed and didn’t say anything, and Andy just smiled and said “you don’t have to tell me. I think your insecurity with your body is adorable, cause you don’t even realize how fucking hot you are.”

That had to be it. He was just nervous—nervous Andy would find out that he was horrible at this, and that he never had done anything like it before. Jordan was so nervous; he was fumbling with the buttons on his jeans. Andy smiled like a self-assured gigolo would and helped him along.

It felt good, very good, but something in Jordan’s mind was telling him it didn’t feel as good as it should. Andy was so good at what he did that Jordan started to slip away in his mind. He didn’t know what he had to do, or what would make sense to do, nothing felt right—nothing really felt natural. But fuck, it felt good.

Jordan just swung his arms around the man’s neck and let him take over, feeling quite useless. In a light humor he mentioned it to Andy and the man just laughed and kissed his neck like a sensual lover. “You just do what feels right,” Andy said. Jordan didn’t have the heart to tell him that nothing felt right. And when the boy’s legs rose into the air by two steady hands, the blonde gripped the bed sheets tightly, vowing softly that he would never let go.

And when Andy came into him he looked down at the blonde and smiled. And Jordan noticed that his eyes were full of lust, which wasn’t the four letter word that started with an L that he wanted. Andy lied beside him and touched him and petted him like he was a good little boy until he fell asleep. Jordan didn’t remember the night very well. And truth be told, he didn’t really care, either. Andy was a distraction, one that took away from the nagging presence of life. What Jordan didn’t know was that life was out to get him in the worst way imaginable that night.

Matt wasn’t the only person that Jordan knew that had a flair for the dramatic. As Andy and Jordan slept soundly, a hand around Jordan’s ass, protecting what he now considered his, they had no idea what hysterics were to ensue in the following seconds.

The sheets were torn of the bed in a furry as a woman screamed. Oh. Shit.

Andy instantly awoke and yelled back “Jesus Christ, lady!” Oh, this was far worse than bad could ever be. Mrs. Dunne picked up a heavy wooden bat, a nostalgic memento from Jordan’s former days on the junior baseball team at school.

“Don’t you EVER take the Lord’s name in vain, you heathen! Get out of here!” the angry woman shouted. Andy, who was unconcerned with the screaming mother before was now terrified of getting the shit beaten out of. He grabbed his clothes and ran out of the room with Mrs. Dunne trying to hit him as he ran by. Jordan tried to plead with Andy to stay, but after Andy abandoned him there, the blonde despaired. His was a fate worse than death—or even a bat-beating.

When Mrs. Dunne returned, her eyes were heavy and she was shaking her head. “You poor, sick child,” she sighed, not wanting to look at him. All Jordan could do was pull the rest of the covers over his body, his hands holding his knees. He was crying as she spoke. “So disgusting, so blasphemous, so sick,” she said again. Jordan didn’t want to look at her, he just cried into his sheets. “How old was he?” she asked softly, seeming calm but raging inside.

“22…Mom, please…” he pleaded for her not to continue.

“He’ll be arrested.”

“No, Mom!” She didn’t want to hear.

“He’ll be arrested for what he has done to you,” she said, gritting her teeth.

“But he hasn’t done anything to me!” Jordan cried. Andy didn’t deserve this.

“Jordan, shut up. You have sickened me!” she said, walking over to the bed.

“No…”

“You’re just lucky that your younger sister and brother aren’t here to see you this way! We came here to get away from all this corruption—but it’s clear now that corruption follows you wherever you go! Did you even once think about how I would feel, or your siblings—what kind of example are you setting?” she shook her head sadly. “That man has done something terrible to this family—”

Jordan looked at her and cried “I wanted him to touch me!” He himself felt sick after saying it, like he was his mother and felt that this perversion of nature had to be a punishable offense. It was time for confession, to wipe his sins clean once and for all.

But the woman didn’t want to hear Jordan’s confessions. “Get out,” she cried. “Get out of my house. NOW,” she said, throwing him random clothes from the floor. Jordan took them and ran, afraid that his own mother would turn the bat on him, too.

That was it, this was it; it was the end. He had been disowned. His best friend had disowned him, his new lover had disowned him, and now his mother followed suit. He somehow lost everything in that one week, and still, it wasn’t enough.

*

In the dim, concealing light of the early morning he had reached his destination. His bare feet were frozen; his bed sheet was pulled around him but did nothing to keep the wind from chilling his skin.

The house was so beautiful and peaceful that Jordan felt gross about having to disturb that wonderful feeling. He had no where else to go like this—no where that would take him in without initial questioning. He just wanted to sleep in his own bed, but that was no longer an option. So he went where he felt most at home.

It was still too early to just arrive unannounced at his door. The blonde sat down between two cool bushes in the early morning and waited. The ground was damp and freezing, and the boy tried to figure out how this all happened.

A half an hour later, Mr. Harris left—his car backed out of the paved driveway slowly—for work. A few minutes after that, Mrs. Harris followed suit. Jordan could hardly believe his luck. His body was too stiff to get up right away, but he did soon enough, and rushed over to the last family member who was backing out of the garage.

Don’t leave, Jordan was going to say, but his voice wouldn’t allow it. His body failed him and he tripped and fell into the lawn.

The boy instantly stopped the car and jumped out to help. He immediately recognized Jordan after seeing the boy from the corner of his eye. “Jordan?” he called worriedly and confusedly. The blonde was unresponsive.

The leaves clung to his body every which-way, his bed sheet spread out on the lawn like he was a fallen angel. But—that’s what he was. He was cast out of heaven, from the safety of a hidden life, into the uncaring and unforgiving world where no one cared who you were, only what you had become.

He was unconscious. The thought brought Matt back to a couple days ago, when Jordan had been hospitalized after blacking out during school. What could have happened to him? Matt took his pulse. He was alright, but freezing. Matt picked up the boy and ran back inside.

*

And slowly, it became warm.

Jordan opened his eyes carefully, but still couldn’t make his head turn effectively. What had happened? Shit—he blacked out again. He looked up. The walls were painted a dark, shimmering gold that instantly made Jordan happy. The lights in the room were dimmed, but not off, he could tell. He could feel another weight beside him and turned to find his best friend there, beside him, with a hand outstretched over the blonde’s stomach—a safety maneuver. If Jordan was going to become conscious while his guard was down, even the slightest movement would wake Matt up.

The raven-haired boy was sleeping just across from him on a separate pillow. His eyes came awake the moment Jordan’s body twisted the slightest degree to survey his settings. Matt smiled worriedly and curled his fingers on the boy’s stomach and stretched.

Matt rolled off the bed and walked out of the room, only to come back a few minutes later with lunch. He smiled as he put a plate of food down right next to the blonde on the bed. “You’re lucky that my mom just went shopping. We literally had no food in the house.”

Jordan tried to smile, but couldn’t, and it aggravated him. His body wasn’t taking his mind’s orders. He didn’t want to look at the food; it just reminded him of home, somehow. As long as he had a home he was okay, he was safe.

“I’m…not really hungry…” Jordan said nervously.

Matt smiled and put the plate on the night stand. “Ok, okay,” he said acceptingly, “but now you realize that I’m mad at you for wasting my food and passing out on my lawn and not letting me feed you.” Jordan froze instantly. Is that what happened? How fucking embarrassing! “But if you’re really not hungry…”

“I’ll have it,” Jordan groaned.

“First,” Matt said, sitting down beside the blond. “I want to know what’s going on.”

Jordan glanced away from Matt, surveying the room once again and sighing. There were pictures on Matt’s wall of supermodels and Pamela Anderson and beautiful, busty blonds in skimpy clothing. They really did come from different worlds. “I got kicked out,” he mumbled. “Last night.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed questioningly. “What?”

“I got kicked out,” Jordan said again, turning to look up at his friend. “As in ‘bye bye, you asshole, never come back here’.” Matt still didn’t understand.

“I got that part. How? Why?” he asked.

The blonde shrugged as he slowly backpedaled into his usual disassociated and pessimistic behavior. “She found out about me,” was all he needed to say.

“Oh,” Matt said; a slight squeak in his voice. After remembering their conversation and Katie’s warnings, he moved his body a slight centimeter away from Jordan’s.

The blonde noticed this and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry; it’s not contagious despite what Katie’s been telling you.” Matt’s mouth opened, about to say something equally as impacting, but the words wouldn’t come. How’d he know about Katie?

Jordan sighed, looking at the blankets coving him and warming him. “Matt…um…” he said. “What happened to…my uh…”

“Mom put you’re blanket in the wash. Oh yeah I had a question about that, actually,” Matt said, remembering. No Matt, I don’t feel like answering a question about the blanket. The blanket discussion is totally off-limits. “Why were you only wearing a blanket and nothing else, wandering around in the middle of the night halfway to December?” Yes, Matt had a way of putting things in perspective.

“…Something happened,” Jordan mumbled, not looking up at his friend. This was so awkward.

“Care to be more specific?” asked Matt. No, not really, thanks.

“I went on a date last night. I came home. Something happened,” Jordan said, being noncommittal about disclosing some very embarrassing information. How could he POSSIBLY just tell his friend ‘Oh, well, you know, I went out with some guy, came home with him, got fucked in the ass, and my mom saw, threatened my date with a bat, called me disgusting and kicked me out?’

“A date?” Matt said thoughtfully. “But I thought you said you were a—oh, oh, okay…” Matt said awkwardly. Yeah, a date, asshole, a date with a guy—try not to be so insensitive! his mind was screaming. “But, um, like…” Matt cleared his throat. “So…why the, uh…why weren’t you…”

Jordan decided to help him out. “Wearing clothes?”

Matt looked so embarrassed. “Yeah, that.”

“You’re a big boy, I’ll have you guess.” His raven-haired friend nearly choked on air.

Matt tried to keep his mind from that at the moment. “So…you’re mom came home and like…found you…”

“And him,” Jordan added.

“And him,” Matt felt stupid about adding. “And kicked you both out? That’s…really unfair…” Matt said, coming to realize their was a lot more behind this whole “being gay” thing than the preachers wanted kids to know about. Yeah, it was wrong and it was gross and Matt didn’t even want to begin to THINK about what his best bud and some guy were doing together in bed, but at the same time…Jordan was human. If homosexuals were perversions of nature…well, that didn’t sound right. If God created man in his own image and loves and forgives all his children, wouldn’t that count homosexuals too? It just didn’t seem fair that a mother would kick her son out just because he was with another guy. It was just so wrong.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Jordan agreed.

Matt was quiet for a minute. “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

Jordan shrugged. “I don’t have a car so I can’t get a job. Moreover I don’t have a place to stay. I’m thinking about asking Sarah or some other people if I could crash at their houses a little while I guess. I don’t know what I’m going to do when school ends but I need somewhere to stay. And probably some clothes.” This whole ‘being kicked out’ thing wasn’t going over so well.

Matt slapped the blonde’s head lightly. “The correct answer was you’re going to stay here until you’ve got something worked out, dumbass.” Jordan rubbed his head.

“And have Katie spaz out on you for keeping a homo in your house? No way,” he said. A little softer, a little more biting, he added, “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Don’t make me slap you again,” Matt said, and handed his friend the plate of food. “I’m going to tell my mother your deal. She’s pretty good about things, she doesn’t care what you are either so if I just explain things you should be good to crash here.”

“What the fuck, your MOM knows about me? Does the whole town know?” Jordan said anxiously. Matt just laughed and walked over to the door.

“Just relax and eat. And don’t worry about Katie. You’re my best friend, and that’s just something that she’s going to have to accept.”

*

“You look weird. Turn around for me,” he said, making his index finger rotate clockwise in a circular pattern. Jordan did as he was asked and modeled the odd-fitting clothes for his friends. Sarah giggled.

“I think you’d fit better in my little brother’s shit, and he’s twelve,” Sarah commented. Jordan frowned at her.

“So, yeah, they’re a little big. And…well, just stupid ‘cause they’re not fashionable at all.”

“Hey, I never claimed I was in style,” Matt said, pinching the blonde.

The boy sighed. “I wish I could go home…” he whispered. He sat down on the couch and Matt followed suit, putting his arm around his friend, not knowing exactly what to say.

Sarah sat at his feet and laid her head on his knee. “She doesn’t deserve a good kid like you anyway,” Sarah said. Any mother who would throw out her child was just an evil, coldhearted bitch, no exceptions. When she heard about what happened from Matt she rushed right over to comfort the boy.

Jordan seemed sickly; his skin was white and red and he had these severe coughing fits. Never-the-less, he was alive and well and away from that insane woman. The group was trying to figure out what exactly Jordan should wear now that all his possessions were, well, no longer considered his property.

Sarah decided then to raid Matt’s closet, and made Jordan model some outfits. Matt had more of an athletic build—his arms were bigger and his chest was bigger—and he was a good couple inches taller than his blonde friend. He had bigger shoes, too, which was quite annoying when they were trying to figure out what Jordan should wear on his feet. Matt found a pair of sneakers that were in great condition but were too small when he got them as a Christmas gift a year ago. Those would do for now.

Jordan was able to practically swim in Matt’s clothes. And although it should have made the slightly homophobic Matthew weary to have Jordan wear his boxers and clothes, it didn’t. Matt just watched from the sidelines as Sarah dressed him up from top to toe.

It was so weird seeing Jordan in another light like this. It was like his friend was just now beginning to live his life the way God intended him to—without any damned restrictions and secrets and…with laughter and fun and friends. Matt could have nearly hit himself—he was a fool for listening to Katie and not hanging out with Jordan. He was still his best friend—queer or not! It didn’t matter! He felt stupid for even thinking that it did for one minute.

“Earth to Matt,” Sarah laughed, kicking her friend’s leg playfully. “I was asking you what you thought about what I picked out for Jor. It’s nothing great but it’ll have to do for now…” she said, studying her work. Matt looked equally as interested.

“You look weird,” he said. At the same time he couldn’t get over just how ‘weird’ he actually did look. Why didn’t he realize before that Jordan was that much smaller than him? It really didn’t seem that way when they stood side by side. They must have looked like a very odd sight. But somehow, they fit. Katie always wore those high-heeled boots that made her look three and a half inches taller than she was. She was way skinny and always wore a lot of perfume.

Matt never fully understood girls. Why wear perfume? It wasn’t like Katie didn’t shower, and she was so pretty without having on any makeup or “fashionable” apparel. He liked how she looked without any of the fluff and sparkles that came with her style. Matt thought if Jordan ever tried to look like that, he’d slap him. But…wait…Jordan was a guy. He shouldn’t have to worry about him trying to look pretty—right? What did that guy see in Jordan—enough to want to fuck him—that Matt didn’t see? Maybe he was even a little bit jealous of this nameless, faceless seducer.

“I’m going to get a drink,” he said, after Sarah started probing Jordan on the sequence of events of the night in question.

“Get me one too, hun?” Sarah called after he left the room. “So, what did you think of Andy? Never mind your crazy mum—but you think he was a jerk when he left you like that? But what about before—right?” Sarah said excitedly. Ah, boy gossip, the true bond between straight girl and gay boy.

Jordan laughed softly and looked around to see that Matt had left the room. He turned to his friend. “He was…nice…” Jordan said with a smirk. Sarah mimicked his facial expressions.

“Yeah? Hey, come sit down. Sit down, tell me about it. You dog, you didn’t think he was just nice, you mean he had a nice ass,” Sarah suggested. Jordan sat down beside her.

“No really, he was hot but, he was just nice.”

“Nice enough to bang, right?” Sarah said, nudging him in the shoulder. Coming back from the kitchen, Matt was caught off-guard by the talk. He stood just outside the downstairs living room door, being ever so cautious not to interrupt.

Jordan laughed anxiously again. “Aha…well, technically, I didn’t do much of anything.”

“Dude,” Sarah said, putting a hand on his thigh and staring into his eyes. “Tell me about it,” she said seriously. Wow, boy on boy action reports must be the highlight of her day thought Jordan.

“Well,” said Jordan, getting more into their discussion. He was excited now that he finally had something to share. He wasn’t a virgin anymore! The horrible word that stuck onto his skin for the past 17—nearly 18—years of his existence had vanished without a trace. Sure there were the more-than-usual amounts of crap thrown in, but no one could deny it made an excellent story. “We went to go see this shitty movie, and no one was really there so I kind of knew what to expect,” he started.

“Go on,” Sarah urged.

“So,” Jordan continued, “we sat down in back and not five minutes into the opening credits he was all over me!” Okay, it was a slight exaggeration, but Jordan felt the need to exaggerate even a little. “It’s like I just started to live,” Jordan said excitedly. “I mean, we were in public, and I’d NEVER do those things in public,” he laughed.

“That would be more of an interesting show than the movie that was playing!” Sarah joked. Jordan nodded.

“Some people were watching. And at first I was anxious ‘cause I thought we would get thrown out—right—like someone would tell on us? But no one did! With all the homophobic jerk-offs in this town not one of them had the guts to peel their eyes away. Or maybe they just didn’t want to!” he laughed.

“Oh man. So, what was he doing to you?” she asked boldly.

Jordan laughed nervously. “You sick little girl, why do you want to know?”

“I’m curious; I have a boring and pointless life. Just humor me, damnit,” she said with a saucy grin.

Jordan rolled his eyes, but decided to indulge her. He spoke softly, unaware that the walls had ears but taking note of the fact that they could have, anyway. “He touched my leg first, my knee, forget about that over-the-arm crap. He started kissing my neck and at same time his hand was…you know…working it’s way upwards?”

“OH MY GOD!” she squealed. “This is SO hot—did he make you cum in PUBLIC?!” She giggled excitedly. Jordan had to tape down her mouth with his hand to keep her from shouting more.

“Sarah!” He screamed in a desperate whisper. “You’re not being very helpful…” He thought he could hear something soft hitting the ground, but then shook it out of his head.

“But it’s true,” she said lowly. “And then you went back home.”

Jordan sighed. “I invited him in for a drink, but…you know what happened then.”

“No I don’t,” she grinned. This girl was too much.

“Sarah…” he sighed, but continued for the sake of gossip anyway. “Andy just…did the rest.”

“I knew you were a bottom!” Sarah squealed. The walls felt faint.

“Yeah well, it was my first time,” Jordan admitted shyly. “I kind of just wanted it to be perfect. But even I’m having my doubts. I mean, Andy was super nice, and hot, and everything…but he just…”

“He didn’t love you,” Sarah sighed, as if she was getting to the end of a really good novel. Jordan nodded. “Were you thinking about Andy when you were with him?” Jordan knew what she meant by ‘with’. He shook his head, embarrassed. “Wait, then who?” she asked, confused. “Brad Pitt?” she asked.

“Sure let’s just say that,” Jordan said, agreeing with his gossiping friend.

“No, seriously Jor, who is it?—Oh my God!” she said as another pressing thought struck her like a surge of brilliance. “Oh my God, Jordan, Oh my God—you were thinking about MATT, weren’t you?” Yes, the walls felt as if they were about to crumble.

“WHAT?” Jordan said, pretending to be confused to shake off the initial shock of her response. “Okay, you seriously need to switch to decaf,” he mumbled.

“I don’t drink coffee!” she said with a maniac’s smile. “That’s it, isn’t it? Oh my God, Jordan—you like Matt!”

“Shut up already, I do not like Matt, nor was I thinking about him last night so just calm the hell down will you?” Jordan pleaded. When Sarah calmed down, Jordan continued. “I don’t know why everyone is saying that I have a thing for Matt,” he grumbled. “He’s my best friend. Why in hell would I develop feelings for my best friend? We’re like fucking brothers!” he said, and the walls were relieved.

“Right…” Sarah said, unconvinced. Jordan gave her a look. “Oh hey, Matt,” Sarah said with a pleasant smile. Jordan jumped up from his seat like a nervous reaction and turned to watch the boy enter the room.

“Yeah, sorry I was so late getting back, I shook one of the cans for some dumbass reason and it kind of just exploded…um, everywhere…anyway, here’s yours,” he said, giving a soda to Sarah. He looked over at the blond curiously and a bit anxiously. “You, uh, you thirsty?” This was so awkward.

“Uh, sure…” Jordan mumbled. Matt nodded a few times and left the room in a hurry. Jordan turned to Sarah slowly. “How long…” he began, “how long was he there and you didn’t tell me?”

“What makes you think he was standing behind the door listening to our every word and—oops,” she said, shutting herself up but it was already far too late.

“Sarah!” Jordan cried.

“It’s not that bad, crybaby. And anyway, you can’t blame this on me. I only realized he was there after the ‘cum in public’ shout. I heard a noise but didn’t tell you. But hey, you guys barely tell each other shit. And you wonder why he hasn’t called you in a week. You guys have like zero communication skills, you know that? You’re fine when you’re talking about music or video games, but really crappy when it comes down to the important stuff,” she said seriously. “But hey, don’t take it from me,” she said, shrugging. Jordan didn’t want to admit she had a good point.

*

Days went by, and a slight fever came and went. Jordan slept in Matt’s bed during his sickness and fever, and then made the switch to the couch on Wednesday night. He was going to go to school tomorrow.

He was sure that with every day he didn’t go to school, the attendance office would call home and inform the inhabitants of the missing child. Jordan wondered if his mother got these calls everyday, or if she let them reach her voicemail while she sat by the phone, drinking coffee. Maybe she didn’t care that he ran away, or fell into a ditch late in the night and died. Maybe she was pretending like she never had a son—certainly ignoring those calls were the way to go.

Matt’s parents had been surprisingly understanding. He knew that they were nice since having met them and talked to them many times before, but he didn’t know if they’d have much sympathy for his particular case. He knew they went to church and heard all the same sermons about God’s undeniable contempt for sodomites; they even adopted Matt as a kid from the church’s orphanage. It just wouldn’t make sense that they wouldn’t just turn him back over to his mother or kick him out, or even flinch at the sight of him in Matt’s clothes, knowing what he was.

“They just don’t care about that stuff. Sure, they’re conservative, but they’re not cruel,” Matt said of his parents.

And after his parents found out that the poor boy was going to sleep on the couch they told Matt that he should be a good host and let his guest have his bed. Jordan refused to inconvenience Matt further by taking his bed but even Matt was adamant about it.

Jordan only spent one night on that couch while the bed sheets were being washed. The next night, and for the rest of the week, he was back again.

Matt had no visitors over after school when Jordan was sick—not even Sarah or Katie. After school he was totally devoted to making Jordan feel as comfortable as possible, trying to make up for his jerky behavior the week before. He had no idea what Jordan had gone though last week—it was hard enough having to come out to your best friend, but then having him ignore you? That must have stung. But Jordan, being Jordan, never said a word—never complained.

After school Matt would come home and play video games with Jordan and they both would laugh remembering when they would that same thing every Saturday for all of freshman year. Boy, they were dorks, weren’t they? And yes, those were the days. Back then, you didn’t have to care about the world or what it wanted from you. There was always later to care about those sort of things. But all of a sudden, all that time seemed to disappear, and then there was no more time to procrastinate.

That Thursday, Jordan went back to school. Nothing had changed—school was still school. There was the same dull boringness everywhere he went. The classes were still dry and uninteresting, and there was nothing new—or at least, Jordan really wanted to believe. The truth was, he could feel something was different. Something floated in the air; some dangerous idea. That day, everyone started to think the same things.

There weren’t very many looks, oh no, they weren’t as obvious as that. But everyone seemed more…out of place. They all seemed calm when the boy passed boy. They all seemed to make note of what Jordan was wearing as if to say “we know those aren’t yours.” He thought for a minute that Katie must have told the whole school via her little gossip group. No, no, Jordan’s mind tried to reason. It’s not Katie’s fault. Katie wouldn’t tell everyone that her boyfriend’s best friend was queer; that would just draw more attention to her and not very great attention at that</i>. Yes, Katie wouldn’t sabotage her own social agenda enough to say that she actually knows the gay boy.

But, nevertheless, there were looks—slight ones—just glances. The talk was low where he passed.

Then a boy from his psych class walked up to him and started a conversation about some of the classes he had missed and the notes that he could possibly borrow. “Oh and, I was meaning to ask how you were feeling. Word’s going around that you got hospitalized again and we’re all kind of freaked that it’ll happen again, you know?” he said. Jordan mentally breathed a sigh of relief. Oh thank fucking God it wasn’t as bad as he thought! They didn’t know he got kicked out for being queer—they didn’t know he was homeless and living with Matt Harris—they didn’t know shit!

And all throughout the rest of the day he was happy and tried to think of how much he really didn’t hate Katie.

*

It was Christmas Eve, and it was a party. There were many people, and Cynthia was trying her best to keep everyone entertained. Her husband had slipped off somewhere, the rascal, and she was left to play perfect housewife.

“Auntie?” questioned a soft-spoken girl. Cynthia turned around. A baby was put into her arms. “I’m sorry but she won’t stop. I didn’t maker her mad, though, I promise,” the girl said. Cynthia smiled and patted the girl on the shoulder.

“It’s alright dear. You’ve been a lot of help tonight. Go get some horderves for yourself, dear. Dinner will be out soon. Oh and could you tell Jordan that I told him to share some of his toys if the other kids want to play?” she asked.

The girl nodded her head happily and went of to go nibble at the odd foods her aunt had prepared. Now where is that damn husband of mine when I need him? thought Cynthia in a better humor.

She walked past her son’s room and down the hall past her room to where the baby slept. After putting Amanda down she walked past her room again, this time hearing something.

She pressed her ear against the door. “I’m so sorry Jordan…I…never thought I’d have to say that…” said a familiar voice—but who? It certainly was a man’s voice, she was sure of it. What did he say that he thought he’d ‘never have to say’? She didn’t mind eavesdropping on her husband’s conversation—she knew he wasn’t going to tell her later.

“Bobby…” Bobby? Oh, Bobby Flyce. He worked with Jordan—Cynthia saw him many times before when she stopped by the office to give something to Jordan. Bobby had been divorced for several years at that point, since before Cynthia even met him, in fact. Bobby and Jordan went way back. They met in college, and were friends ever since. Of course that’s who he was talking to! But what were they talking about?

There was a lapse in conversation for a few minutes where silence engulfed the voices. “Please don’t,” whispered Jordan. Don’t…what? Oh no, Bobby wasn’t going to leave the firm…was he? That would devastate Jordan!

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…but now I’ll be gone, and it’ll all be better again,” Bobby said in a wavy voice. Shit, he really was leaving the firm! Cynthia thought for a moment and decided she really didn’t want to hear this. Jordan would have to tell her that Bobby was leaving the firm sooner or later, and she’d get to hear the clean, unemotional side of things, and it would definitely be better than hearing the news like this.

She was about to turn away from the door and back to the party, until she heard Bobby continue. “You still have a happy marriage. I won’t get in the way of you and Cynthia.” What? Cynthia was getting worried. Did Bobby…have a thing for her? This was terrible! She never did anything in all her years of knowing Bobby that made him want to—“but I’ll always love you.” Cynthia froze.

“Bobby…I love you, too.”

“Don’t say that…”

“But it’s true,” Jordan said. “I’ve always loved you. I love Cynthia too, but…I’ve always loved you—ever since freshman year…and that night…” Oh God, please…

“I remember,” whispered Bobby happily.

“Don’t leave me Bobby,” Jordan said, now his voice was wavy. “I only settled down and had kids because everyone was doing it. I wanted kids too. Cynthia wanted kids. We fit. But you and I fit too. We could have had something. Did you know…” Jordan said in a whisper, “did you know for so many long years I thought what happened was just a dream? And then, just now…you kissed me…and said you love me…but now it’s over and you’re leaving the firm?” Oh God…please, please Cynthia thought frantically. Please let this not be what I’m hearing. Please don’t let this be my marriage.

“I don’t want to leave you Jordan. I just can’t stand it anymore. Cynthia is wonderful, but I can’t stand you not being mine. For so many years I’ve tried to just be your friend. I can’t do that anymore. I want to make love to you and kiss you and not have to worry about the repercussions.” This…was sickening. “But you’re not mine, you’re hers. You have children, and you have a family, for now till forever. No amount of want can change that.”

“Fuck it all…” Jordan said hoarsely, and there was a long, strange silence afterward. Cynthia trembled as her hands turned the doorknob. Please…please let it not end up like this…

But when the door was thrown open, she didn’t find Jordan, her husband, in the arms of Bobby. She found Jordan, her son, in the arms of that Mexican boy.

*

Mrs. Dunne woke up screaming, and half way through her scream turned into a sob, and then a dull, wretched cough. Her dream frightened her. It threatened to expose her for the unloving mother she was.

The night was almost exactly 10 years ago. It must have frightened Jordan when his wife walked in on him in another man’s embrace, spread out on top of their bed, their legs entangled together, and Bobby’s breath still on his lips. That was the bed Jordan and Cynthia slept in every night. That was the bed that their two children were conceived in. That bed was there after their return from their honeymoon, ready to carry them through many more blissful nights of rest together, as a family.

Jordan and Cynthia’s marriage ended four years ago, almost right after Simon was born. Simon was their last resort to keep themselves to the promise they made to each other so many years before. But there were always arguments. Cynthia felt abandoned emotionally. What had she done that was so wrong? Since when was loving someone such a bad thing? But most of all, she wanted to know why her love wasn’t good enough.

At court, Cynthia received full guardianship over their three children. Jordan was distraught. He had lost Bobby, then his wife, now his kids. He had nothing left. By that time, Bobby had settled down with someone knew. There was no going back to a past that was no longer welcoming. Cynthia stayed up late every night; her thoughts were restless. He brought this upon himself she’d say to herself, but not fully believing it. A part of her wanted Jordan to be happy and safe—she still loved him.

Tonight had marked a week since she had last seen her oldest son. When the children came home that Sunday, Amanda immediately questioned Jordan’s whereabouts. Cynthia just stared at her, not knowing what to say. She wondered if her daughter could smell the sent of salt and water in the air, or see the lines on her face. No...she was too young to understand…wasn’t she?

She had woken up from that nightmare in that sinful bed. How sick was she to throw out her own son? She wept silently, trying not to wake up her children if the scream had not already done so.

She had been worried the first three days. She send him out in a blind hurry, and then half an hour later went out with her car around the blocks, but couldn’t find him. Cynthia sat by her phone, wondering if she should call the police, but didn’t. After the first call from his school notifying her that her son was missing, Cynthia cried. What had she done?

Another call came later that night, from Mrs. Harris, informing her that her son was safe at her home, if not frazzled. “Oh thank God…” Cynthia stammered.

“Cynthia…” the concerned woman spoke softly. “I’m your friend. I tell it like it is. Jordan is shook up over this. I was here today. I heard Jordan crying in his sleep, just sobbing, really, and calling out for you. I asked him if he’d wanted me to bring him home, but he said no. He looked so scared and desperate. He really is afraid of you.”

The woman took an irregularly sharp breath in. Her voice was faint. “I don’t want him to be scared of me,” she said.

“I got bits and pieces of the story from Matt and their friend Sarah. They didn’t tell me everything, but Cynthia, from what it sounds like and from what I know, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Of course it was my fault!” she said sadly. “I threw my son out in the middle of the night, with no clothes or anything in the middle of November!”

“Cynthia, calm down. Listen. Your reaction was totally understandable. Your heart was in the right place, but your mind wasn’t. You thought you were looking at Jordan and Bobby. Now Jordan is safe, and he’ll come home when he’s ready. So try not to worry, darling.”

“Oh Connie,” said the woman, leaning on her kitchen table and running her manicured fingers through her hair. “I would have never forgiven myself if anything happened to him.”

“Keep together, Cynthia. He’s doing alright. I’ll call you every day until he decides he’s ready to come home. It’s going to be a while until he thinks it’s safe to come home.”

“Oh God…” Cynthia said. She didn’t want her children to have to decide her home is safe or not. “He must think I’m insane…”

“You can start showing you’re not insane by dropping off some of his clothes tomorrow while he’s away to show you’re not mad at him.”

“Why would I be mad at him Connie?” she said, sighing. “I love him. I love all my kids.” She put a hand to her forehead tiredly. “Why can’t I come over and speak to him directly?”

“Cynthia…as much as you want to believe your children don’t think you’re mad at them, you did threaten Jordan and that boy with a baseball bat. If that doesn’t warrant someone to believe you’re slightly off-it, nothing will.” She could hear her friend sigh. “Just give it time. Just don’t come over. I’m afraid he’ll just freak out on you, and that’s no good for either of you right now.”

The stressed woman nodded even though her friend couldn’t see. “Thank you for doing this, Connie,” she whispered breathlessly.

*

It was a nightmare. It always was a nightmare.

Jordan’s dreams never made any sense. He was always having these nonsensical dreams that never really had any connection to the outside world. Sure, the occasional Sarah popped up, and Matt, and Katie, but the things they said were either silly or hurtful—things people would never say in real life. And the setting ways always different or nonexistent, like an endless plane of black or grayish blue running right behind the actors of his dreams.

He was young, and by a bedside in a house. He didn’t know by whose bed or what house, but guessed it was in his old house he lived in when their parents were still together and, for some reason, happy. He was praying. “God oh God, Dear God oh God,” he said, like a nursery rhyme. The words really didn’t make sense—no one prayed by just saying “God,” over and over again. Then a ghoulish looking hand came out from under the bed and grabbed his arm. He screamed, but no sound came from his voice. Another hand reached out and grabbed his leg. And another hand gripped his other arm.

He was slowly being pulled under the bed. He kicked and screamed, but no one could hear him, not even himself. The phantom hands gripped tighter and then, he was gone.

Matt paused, his heart leapt into his throat. What in holy hell was that?

*

GAH! The end of Chapter two is SOOO weak! I'm def. going to fix this in December. Unedited as usual (nothing gets edited or cut during NaNoWriMo, damnit! ^o^

A bit more humor going on in this chapter. Sarah is quite a character, isn't she? ^_^ I think I finally “got” who Jordan is supposed to be. I still don’t think it was Matt’s time to shine in this chapter, but there’s lots more to come. When I go back and edit everything in December I’m going to switch some things up in chapter one to better fit Jordan’s personality. I don’t know how many of you caught on, but he’s “focused, cool, collected, cynical and sarcastic” because, in a sense, he has to be. It really is like wearing a mask, I guess. Some people make witty jokes and laugh because without them, you’re looking at something very sad indeed.

Now you get to see the “troubling past”. To clarify a bit more, Jordan Sr. and Cynthia and family moved to the town when Jordan was in 8th grade, hence when he met Matt. Jordan Sr. and Cynthia tried to save their marriage by having another kid, and after that they god divorced. I didn’t know if that was implied or not or…I dunno. But I don’t want people to focus on this past stuff. It’s only use is to explain Mrs. Dunne’s behavior. This story isn’t going where you think it’s going to go (at least I think?). It’s all about the rhythm of life and how time always moves forward and changes things, or doesn’t. What happened in the past stays in the past. You always have to be asking “what’s going to happen next” rather than “what happened back then” in this story.

Hope you’re enjoying it!

Btw, “Margaret” from chapter one won’t really be introduced. Um…well, maybe. I can’t think of how yet, though. Oh! Okay, I’m getting an idea. Okay, I got it. And for the curious, Margaret is Matt’s adoptive grandma. =)

R.O.V. Chapter one: Cambiar

2005-11-13T21:36:41Z

Chapter One: Cambiar

It was a cold night. Jordan shivered in his blazer. Matt concluded that at least everything made sense now.

They sat on the hood of Matt’s car, looking up at a charcoal gray sky that seemed to be unfilled with stars. Matt couldn’t even manage to see the North Star, and he could always see the North Star from anywhere, not to mention at this particular spot. It was like he needed that star, because as long as there was something to guide him through the darkest nights, he knew he’d always find his way home.

The fog and clouds obscured the night sky, and Matt felt a sudden insecurity in them.

Jordan groaned and slid off the hood, careful not to scuff it. He stood on the other side of the car and looked over at his raven-haired friend. He looked down at his shoes, they were read and white with Sponge Bob shoelaces. Under his blazer a Dane Cook baby tee wrapped around his small frame. Under that, some flesh was burning and freezing under the chill of the November night. And beneath that flesh were brittle bones due to a calcium deficiency—at least that’s what his mother always kidded him about when he broke a new bone. He always seemed to break everything. And now he broke his best friend.

In the gut and stuff of his body a heart beat kept an unusual time.

“It’s getting late,” Jordan sighed, nervous, anticipating. Matt said nothing. Was he…ignoring him? Jordan shifted his feet to keep the catching on his breath. “Matt—”

“Are you cold?” the boy interjected. He didn’t turn around. He kept looking into the sky for his guiding star.

“I’m more worried about you,” Jordan said softly, his hands curled in his pockets and his fingernails secretly pinching the fragile skin of his palms. Matt slid off the hood, his metal lip ring sparkling in the soft glow of the moonlight. No—wait—that’s too romantic. Make that the soft glow of the headlights from Matt’s 97 Subaru.

Matt started up the car and made sure the heat was coming out of the heaters. Jordan looked worried. “Are we leaving?” he asked. Or are you going to leave me here?

Matt didn’t say much but gave his friend a quick smile. “Get in,” he murmured. He was not a man of many words in general, and now he was too quiet for Jordan to handle. The blonde was much more sociable than his raven-haired companion. Jordan was always Matt’s valued “connection” to the outside world. Without him…Matt wasn’t so sure he’d be anywhere at all.

“Just turning on the heat ‘cause you look kinda chilled,” Matt murmured again, closing his door. “Get in?” it sounded less like an order this time and more like a suggestion. Jordan quickly dove into the passenger’s seat and leaned his head on the heater like he’d been doing for many winters like this one.

It was a strange night. There had been strange weather all week. On Monday it had been unusually warm—some of the younger kids got their seasons mixed up and thought fall would turn into spring. The jackets came off on Monday and people walked around in tank tops and tee-shirts. It was some sort of madness, but a good, innocent one.

By Tuesday the cold was back, but not completely. People put on their jackets—and carried umbrellas—it was the worst rain all season. It rained until Thursday. Matt liked the rain. He loved to stay indoors on rainy days—or snowy, wintry days—and just look out windows and think. Jordan never admitted that he thought any of those attributes in Matt were considered “cool” by the rest of their demographic.

Jordan loved the summer and the heat and the sun and warm rain in the middle of the day—a warm rain you could run around in and not fear catching a cold from. Almost winter again, the last winter of his existence, and Jordan wished he was as naive as the children on his block. Where had the summer gone?

It was apparent that the strange weather had finally died down by Friday, though an unsettling fog set in early. The cold and wind had been back sweeping through the small town, and the people saw the first snow flurries of the season.

It happened in the morning, and Matt was excited. Being nature-oriented, he loved the natural progression in the seasons and thought the snow flurries were nothing less than magical. He said they were magical, weren’t they, when he picked up Jordan for school in the morning. Jordan sighed and said they were, and Matt caught his change of attitude and asked him what was wrong. Jordan said he’d tell Matt later.

Matthew, discouraged, started to talk more about the rhythms of the different seasons. There was something awesome—he said, never using typical slang words the way teenagers should—about being witness to each season, year after year. He said it was a gift to mankind that makes our lives worth living.

Jordan had a haunting suspicion that Matt didn’t know what the hell he was talking about half the time. Matt didn’t seem to mind, though, and neither did Jordan. Sometimes insanity can bring about the most beautiful ideas.

On Friday he was talking about how life has a rhythm and that everything you do in life follows the “beat of fate” as he called it. Jordan would always throw in his cynical two-cents, but that day he was quiet. Matt said there was “something about the first day of winter” that calms him every year, and that this year it looked like winter was affecting Jordan too.

Jordan slung a small backpack over his arm and shivered as a small breeze passed by. The parking lot wasn’t as crowded as it usually was, and Matt said that people were probably still sleeping under winter’s sublime spell. Jordan didn’t buy it. People were just lazy—teenagers especially. I mean, who would WANT to get out of bed at 6 am to go to school on a cold, windy day like this?

Well, other than Matt.

Matt never really interacted with many people during school. This gave mostly everyone the impression that Matt was antisocial, which was definitely not the case. Matt could argue someone into a corner when he wanted. Junior year he even joined the debate team. Jordan was never told straight out why Matt left the debate team, but the blonde suspected it had to do with Katie.

A girl with shimmering honey-brown hair stood in the doorway of the school with a grin on her face. It was perfect timing, really. Katie took up a lot of Matt’s time, and it would be no surprise if Katie asked Matt to leave the debate team because it “took up too much of his time.” It seemed like Jordan was also on Katie’s list of things that consumed Matt’s attention and time; time that should belong to her. It made sense that she was trying to steal him away right now, even this early in the morning.

Matt smiled and jogged up to her; Jordan lagged behind, not so sure if he was wanted at the moment. He knew Katie had a thing against him, but he wasn’t sure why. Girlfriends are supposed to be annoyed at their boyfriends if they spend too much time with their best friends—but why was Katie getting so overprotective over Matt? It wasn’t like Jordan was going to steal him away. In many ways, Matt was already stolen away.

The bell rang. Matt put an arm around the girl’s waist and walked inside, winking back to his friend to show he didn’t completely ignore him. Jordan just rolled his eyes and continued on.

Yes, wasn’t it just the most beautiful morning?

*

He was trapped—cornered really. There was no escaping. There were hundreds of them, spread out before him, their bodies strewn restlessly against lockers and other willing bodies. What a messy process it was to get to one room to the next. He side-stepped the usual eager underclassmen making out and the other seniors who took their time talking to their friends before class. Jordan wished he had that kind of time.

It was their last year of school and then it was all over. It seemed to have gone by so quickly. He thought maybe that’s why Matt thought the changing of the seasons was a “gift to mankind that makes our lives worth living”. It wasn’t like time wasn’t always there, because it was. Time naturally carries people through the day and through all the weeks and months and years of their lives. Sometimes, though, people just never stop and look around and see life for how beautiful it really was. He would have given anything to see the world through rose-tinted glasses like Matt did.

Jordan could hear a boom box off in the distance and two girls talking about Gwen Steffani’s new clothing line. A couple of feet back, a few of the guys from the football team were talking about areas of improvement. People were laughing, and the steady creak and slam of the lockers was the backbone of all the noise, weaving its way through time.

The lockers on this floor were red, because he was on the second floor, wasn’t he? Yes, the lockers on this floor were red. He was on the second floor, going to the third. He had to weave through the line of girls huddled together comparing shoes and prices and looking down he noticed the floor still hadn’t been cleaned since that kid last Friday spilled a soda there. People seemed to rush by all of a sudden, very quickly. The bell must have rung, but so soon? Jordan didn’t hear anything that sounded like a bell, except for the noises on the cell phones, some of them made clicking noises and sounded like little bells in the middle of a class. But Jordan wasn’t in class. He was on the second floor with the red lockers.

And no one seemed to notice or care, as the students rushed off to class at the sound of the first bell, that Jordan Dunne was standing in the middle of the hallway, almost completely overwhelmed by the daydream delusions in his own mind.

But it wasn’t so sudden. Jordan unhinged his joints after a moment, but time was slinking away again—it did that every so often.

He crawled away into an unoccupied bathroom and fell onto the floor, back to the long mirror. And there he stayed for the next hour.

It felt so unnatural—like being stirred out of some lovely sleep—to be awoken so violently. At least, the movement seemed violent. They were being intrusive—they never should have woken him up. He’d get them back. But maybe he’d gettem back some other time, some other time when it was convenient. Now was the time to sleep.

There were some bright lights, but mostly dull ones. And then there was cold air, and people were talking again. Why wouldn’t they just let him rest a while? They were always making so much goddamn noise. Who cares if Gwen Steffani’s new line was a rip-off copy of Super Lovers? Who cares if the state finals were only two games away, and that they needed to step up their game? Who cared about any of it? In the end, it was just noise in time, with a beat, however irregular. Now they were saying the same thing of him.

*

Matt paced back and forth. “This is insane,” he grumbled, kneading a rosary between his fingers. He’d never been religious, and to this day he proclaims he is open to every religious view and spirituality. But the beads helped him count his prayers and keep them in time—and helped him keep his own thoughts in time. He always had that rosary. He didn’t know why. He was raised at the orphanage and one of the Sisters gave it to him. Ever since then it had been his most prized possession, more than his car or his computer or anything else his step parents could have bought him.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay. Didn’t the Doctor say it wasn’t serious?” Katie said, touching Matt’s shoulder. Matt pulled away.

“I don’t care. What do doctors know anyway? Nothing, that’s what. I could read you a list of hundreds of incidents where doctors make the wrong diagnosis or did the operation or could have saved a kid but decided against it,” Matt said bitterly. Katie bit her lip and sat down on the bench beside him.

“Sweetie,” she said reassuringly. He looked up at her calm expression and caring eyes. “I know you’re worried about Jordan. But he was found asleep in the school bathroom—”

“UNCONSCIOUS, Katie! He was unconscious, not sleeping!” Katie put a hand on Matt’s fidgeting hands to calm him.

“Okay,” she accommodated. “But what did Mrs. Dunne say?” She waited patiently for his hesitant reply.

“He’s okay, don’t worry,” Matt repeated in a whisper. She smiled and took one of his hands and pulled it against her.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Matt. If you don’t believe the doctors or Mrs. Dunne, than will you believe me?” Matt nodded silently. “Poor baby…want me to get you some hot chocolate?” Matt shook his head. “You sure?” He was sure. “I’m worried about you, Matt. You haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I just want to wait for his mom again. You know, be here for him when he comes-to, maybe try to get some answers.”

Katie frowned. “The doctor said that could be hours, and I have practice at 2:30,” she explained. “How am I going to get home if you stay here?” Matt looked up to her, incredulous.

“Katie, my BEST FRIEND is hospitalized. You think that MAYBE takes priority over your practice that you have every week at 2:30?” Katie crossed her arms, gapping at her boyfriend.

“I’m the fucking CAPTIAN. They need me there. They’d lose their heads without me! And I really am worried about Jordan, seriously, but the doctors are here are his mother is here and they’re all taking care of him and making sure he’s doing fine, and it could be hours before he wakes up and I don’t plan on staying in the hospital for four hours on a Friday night, excuse me!” she said, walking off down the waiting room hallway.

Matt, confused, called “What are you doing?”

“Calling a cab!” was her last response. Matt collapsed onto the wooden bench. Patients and friends of the aforementioned in the waiting room tore their eyes off the lover’s spat and back to their magazines or idle chatter before Matt had time to question it.

*

The lights swirled, but only for a half a second. It wasn’t as dramatic as the movies always said it would be. It’s just a light in a room. It wasn’t blinding or annoying. It was just a light in a room. It wasn’t even trying to make fun of Jordan.

But he could have sworn he heard the silent laughter and the startled breaths back, and the silence—yes, he could have sworn he had heard the silence, too. Someone tapped his arm lightly, and then was gone the next moment. Jordan adjusted his eyes to the room. The bed was boring and low and white with some stupid bed sheet designs. Oh, that’s right, he was 17—that’s still pediatrics.

There was an IV in his arm which he thought was totally pointless. There was a wooden door that he didn’t really think was made of real wood—it just was meant to look that way. Yes, now he could see it clearly, and it was a fake door, meant to look authentic. They didn’t do a very good job trying to convince him otherwise.

The fake door squeaked open and a little sliver of a familiar face popped in the door. Jordan smiled weakly. “Come in, ya asshole, and say hello for once.” The boy propped open the door and then carted inside a giant sized teddy bear about the size of a ten year old and about two dozen balloons.

“Oh my god,” said the blond, snickering softly and turning his head to the side. “I can’t even look at you…you’re such a dork.” Matt was grinning ear-to-ear.

“You’re ok, you’re feeling better?” Matt asked, sitting down in the chair beside Jordan’s hospital bed. Jordan sat up, intent to show his friend that nothing was wrong.

“Well, let’s find out, shall we? Hand me that sheet.”

“What sheet?”

“The one at the end of the bed. It has all my info and diagnosis crap on it.”

“Here you go.”

Jordan looked at the sheet and laughed. “I must be pathetic. ‘Black out due to stress or stress related symptoms’? That’s really pathetic…even for my standards.” Matt frowned, and touched his friend’s arm.

“No it’s not. Something had to go seriously wrong for you to just snap out of it like that, don’t you think? You’re not weak, you know.” Jordan smiled nervously.

“I know. I never said I was weak, just pathetic, like I couldn’t do something more dramatic, you know?” Jordan leaned back on his pillows, looking up at the pleasant light fixtures. “Now when I go back to school Monday everyone will ask what happened and I’ll have to say I passed out just because.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Would you quit putting yourself down for a minute?” he said softly. “This is obviously something serious, so I don’t want you to treat it like nothing. Besides—you’re not going to school Monday.”

“Like hell I’m not. I’m perfectly alright. Besides, I already missed a lot of school days from that FBLA trip last week, remember? ‘Bed rest and fluids,’ it says. It figures, right? ‘Keep stress-related people and activities away from patient,’ oh that’s going to be really helpful. I think I can get out of that English test on Monday, great.”

Matt grabbed the paper away from his friend. “Would you be serious for one minute?”

“I am being serious.”

There was a nock at the door and dark haired man in a white overcoat entered. “Hello Jordan how are you feeling this afternoon?” he said.

The blonde smiled. “Kind of crappy but I’ll live. Am I being released?”

“Not so fast, Mr. So are you aware of the diagnosis? I see you’ve stolen my paperwork…” the good doctor said as he swiped the papers from Matt’s hands.

“Black out cause of stress. Lots of rest and fluids, gotcha,” he said, peeling back the sheets of his plastic bed.

“Hold on there a moment. You’ve got all that right, but you need to promise me you’ll take care of yourself so this doesn’t have to happen again, you hear?” Jordan nodded. “And your mother left a half hour ago to pick up your little sisters from daycare. She said a Mr. Harris would come to collect you but it seems like he hasn’t shown up yet—”

“Mr. Matthew Harris? Cause if so, that would be me,” the raven haired boy interjected.

“You’re Mr. Harris? How are you two related, may I ask?” the doctor said, looking back and forth between the two trying to find common characteristics in looks using his trained eyes. No significant discoveries seemed to come from it.

Matt smiled. “We’re like brothers, you could say. I’m Jordan’s best friend. I’m also 18 so I can legally take him outta here, right?”

“Well—yes. I…guess that’s it then. You’re free to go.”

“I feel like I’ve just been sprung from prison, Dr. Fields,” laughed Jordan, allowing Matt to help him out of bed.

The doctor smiled. “I guess you have in some ways. You’re very lucky this wasn’t a serious matter. Take care of your health from here on out.”

*

They drove to their spot. The small town was practically a valley, and in autumn the hills would be swollen with ripe colors. People outside the small New England town would drive in just to see the foliage morph before their incredulous eyes. Mostly, these people were well-to-do, and could afford the nice vacation to Nowheres-ville for a month, just because. But only the residents knew what it was like to breathe the air and to live off it. Not a lot of them were in-tune with nature, but some were—Matt in particular.

There was a spot carved into the hills where Matt and Jordan liked to drive to. It was just a spot—a little piece of land—but hardly anyone drove on that road anymore with the highway that was just built a year ago opting for an exceptional flow of traffic. There was a place to park that was out of the road’s way, too. Kids, Margaret said, used to come up there in the sixties and used it as a ‘make out spot’.

Matt started driving past it just for the heck of it, but soon found out that Margaret, if she was right before, was sure out of the loop now. Unpopular and unattended, the secret spot from the sixties had long been abandoned. The call of the civilized world—the city was only a few miles off—had been calling for a little while now, with its promises of nightclubs and bars and x-rated movies. After all, that’s what teenagers were into nowadays. They’d rather be necking in some club illegally, taking all sorts of crap, getting high and loaded, and then going to McDonalds to wash the night’s excitement away.

But now it was dubbed ‘Matt’s spot’. He came there to read or be alone or to watch the colors change. Then when he met Jordan that year, they started going up together. The radio would blast sometimes, and they would sing their favorite songs—at one point two months went by, and only Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” could be heard through the forestry.

They’d talk about music and about school, mostly. Some of the time they brought a few close and trusted friends up there, making them promise they would never tell a soul where Matt’s secret spot was.

There were also those rare occasions they’d just sit on the hood of Matt’s beat-up Subaru and just talk about shit going on in their lives—or just their lives in general. They wondered sometimes if they were both a little strange—the subject came up a lot when they were together, even. Guys shouldn’t be able to talk freely from one to the other without any inhibitions. Girls should do that sort of thing, not guys. Guys were strong and unemotional, and when they had any problems they’d lock it up and put it in the back of their throats and play macho. Matt told Jordan that he thought it was a sickening display. Then again, Matt was a total dork.

“I like this song, can you turn it up a bit?” asked Jordan, eyes shut. The snow had stopped from this morning, but it still was a bit chilly. And after Jordan’s little accident that day, really shouldn’t have been out at all.

His nose and lips were red, and his skin was almost white. Matt was afraid that he’d put his friend in even more danger by keeping him outside. The doctor told him before he left to bring the blonde back home right away, right? “Maybe we should head back,” he said but neither-the-less doing what he was asked. It was something on Matt’s Ipod, Snow Patrol, he thought.

Jordan looked over at him with a curling lip. “Fine, if you wanna be mean about it.”

“I’m just worried,” Matt said honestly. But maybe this was a good thing. He was under a lot of stress, that’s what caused his black out. If the secret spot made him relax, wasn’t that a good thing? Thinking about it, he guessed the secret spot was a huge step up from Jordan’s house. There was always fighting when his father lived there. At least when his parents divorced there wasn’t as much screaming. But it was a really sad place. Maybe that could be it? Maybe Jordan was stressed out over having to look everything, being the man of the house?

The blonde shrugged. “I don’t care either way. If you wanna go, fine.”

Suddenly forgetting his suggestion to leave, he said, “What did you want to tell me?”

“What?” Jordan questioned, a hint of something fearful in his voice.

“Y’know, this morning. I asked you if something was wrong and you mumbled you’d tell me later, remember?”

Jordan opened his eyes and let out a deep breath. “It’s getting darker,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Jor, c’mon, what’s going on?” Matt asked. Jordan loosened his shoulders and took another short breath. He turned around with a half-assed smile on his face. Jordan trying to act macho never looked pretty.

“Sorry, man. I was just freaking out about this assignment in Anat an’ Phys. I just wimped out last night and didn’t finish it and it was due this morning.” Jordan didn’t want to look at Matt to see if he was buying it or not. “Hey you think that’s why I freaked out today?” he asked. He was being too upbeat. Something was wrong. Jordan was just terrible at lying. He wasn’t very imaginative.

Matt was staring right at him. “Well, I know for a fact you never get upset, never mind that upset that you would blank out during school.”

The blond bit his lip. “Well, it’s not like it never happens. I mean, this was like, the only grade for the quarter and I didn’t want to miss the last chance to…to I don’t fucking know,” he said, depressed. “I thought it would do something, you know? I mean it’s senior year and you know I haven’t been the best student and I just wanted things to just…I don’t know…end on a different note, I guess.” He looked up at his friend, and saw that Matt seemed to accept his long-winded rant.

There was a slight lag in conversation, and Jordan, nervous and needing something to do hopped off the hood and walked around anxiously. He paused when it looked like Matt had something else to say.

“You’re getting better at lying,” Matt said.

“I’m not lying!” Jordan retorted. Matt didn’t bother to correct him. Matt walked up to the blonde and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders.

“Jor, I don’t think I really have to tell you how much of a horrible liar you are. Would you just,” Matt said, pausing for the right word to enter his mind, “stop bullshitting me already. It’s kind of dumb. Not like I wouldn’t find out sooner or later anyway. We’re best friends for fuck’s sake,” Matt almost looked a little hurt.

“Don’t touch me,” Jordan said, thin-lipped. Matt but his hands up in surrender and took a slight step back to give the blonde his space. He knew Jordan got really insane when he got mad. Matt was on the receiving end of Jordan’s hostility a few times, and it wasn’t somewhere he’d like to be again. He didn’t look very angry though, just…scared?

Jordan’s gaze kept flickering back and forth between Matt, the ground, the car and the woods. His mind was internalizing ways to get out of this, but he couldn’t find any way out. He scratched his neck, his feet shuffled restlessly, and his other arm was stuck straight into his pants pocket, unmoving, as if it were cementing him to the spot. This was his commitment—he knew it was going to happen sooner or later, and Jordan was always the type of guy who’d want to minimize the damage.

“You…” Jordan whimpered, “You’re going to think I’m sick.”

Matt looked at him, a bemused expression on his face. He nearly laughed. “I would NOT think you’re sick. Please,” he said.

But Jordan picked a spot out on the ground and his gaze was fixed to it. He didn’t care what spot he looked at, it just had to be a spot. There was a pile of leaves with every color of the fall one could imagine. There one on top, however, was still green. What kind of luck was it to find one green leaf among all the red and brown and yellow ones at the very end of the season? Jordan didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about, as superstitious as he was, what that could possibly mean.

Matt could feel Jordan slipping off again. “Jordan. Listen. You really need to tell me what’s bugging you so bad. It can’t be anything major.” Jordan remained silent. “Ok? Tell you what. I can make a list of sick things, would you like that?”

Of course not! Jordan thought anxiously. “Whatever.”

“You don’t like kiddie porn, right?” Matt said with a grin. Jordan rolled his eyes and nodded.

“You don’t…buy fake packs of blood and crazy Halloween costumes and go to the cemetery late at night with a group of Goth kids and pour out your soul through poetry, do you?”

It almost made him laugh, which was undoubtedly Matt’s intention from the start. “What the fuck?”

“You don’t kill people for fun and bury them in the woods, do you? And I know you pretty decently enough. You don’t do any of that shit kids are selling around school right now—are you? You’re not a cutter, not a heavy drinker—at least I hope there’s no problem there, not a fag, not—”

“Don’t…” Jordan interjected. “Don’t use that word,” he said softly.

“What w—oh okay, sorry. Not a homo, not a—” he said, but by that time Jordan was halfway to the main road. Matt paced after him. “Jor, wait, what the fuck man, where are you going? What did I say? C’mon!”

“I’m gonna go hitch a ride. I’d rather drive home with a stranger than with you.”

“Why is everyone today telling me they’d prefer a stranger over me?” Matt said, a little irritated.

Jordan swiftly stopped and turned around, and Matt nearly crashed into him. “Don’t follow me. Just go away,” he said clearly.

“Where the hell are you going to get a ride from? No one goes past this spot anymore! Jor, please, what the hell…what did I say? Jor!” he said, still trailing after his friend. He grabbed the boy’s arm and pulled him close. “What the fuck is going on?”

But Jordan didn’t look mad any more. When the blonde shook his head all the long locks from the back came to the front to shield his eyes from that glare.

“What…” Matt said, almost speechless.

“Where’s Katie, Matt?” Jordan asked in a whisper, his arms still being clamped down upon by his friend. “Why do you take me here everyday? Why don’t you take Katie?” The way Jordan said the girl’s name you would think there was a curse on it.

“Because Katie isn’t my best friend, you are,” he said, giving the blonde a shake to knock any sort of sense back into him.

The blonde looked up at him. “If you only knew how much you would come to believe how disgusting I am, you wouldn’t be making me tell you.” There was water on his cheek, but it wasn’t water.

“I would never hate you, Jordan,” the other boy whispered. Then he hugged him and held that embrace for a few moments, just so he didn’t have to look at his face. There was a haunting suspicion in the air. If Matt’s assumptions were right, then that would make Jordan…

He had to get away, at least for a minute. “I’m sorry,” Jordan said, and let go. He walked back to Matt’s spot, but wasn’t particularly happy when he reached his destination.

It was getting really dark now, although no one could tell. The sky was all one shade of gray-blue—a virtual sheet blanketed the night sky. No stars, no wishes, no guiding lights tonight—just gray everywhere, all along the hillsides and in the valleys.

Matt walked a little bit down the road, trying to think. Things didn’t make sense. Maybe he had just mistaken Jordan, after all, he didn’t really say he was…oh God, he’d never really known his friend all along! It was going to be weird now, between them, but had it ever been really ‘weird’ before? No, it hadn’t, and Jordan had still been gay then, too. No, maybe he wasn’t gay. He certainly never said he was. It had to be just a mistake—maybe he really was just offended at the statement.

But it was odd, regardless. It wasn’t like it was the first time he said those words or like that, and Jordan would smile and nod and laugh and joke like nothing was up. But wasn’t something up? This certainly was something—but how come he never mentioned it till now?

Matt walked back to his spot and sat on the hood of his car. The stars were so cloudy and uncertain. Nothing made sense any more.

The blond, uncertain, climbed on the car and laid on the windshield beside him carefully. Matt turned and put a hand on the boy’s chest.

“I’m straight.”

“I know.”

“I just feel like I’m not the same as you anymore, like we’re so different now,” Matt mumbled into his shoulder.

“Well, we were different before,” Jordan said seriously. “I don’t know why you think that’s changed.”

“We never were different!” Matt argued with a light humor in his voice.

Jordan smiled. “Oh, really? I’m methodic, you’re impulsive. I’m a pessimist, you’re an optimist. I’m cynical, you’re slapstick. I do crappy at school, you’re on honor roll. You have adoptive parents that are really nice; I have real parents that fucking suck. You’re a Beatles man, I’m a Stones man. You are romantic, I’m realistic. You have fucking black hair and I have the exact opposite. What makes you think it wouldn’t carry over into our romantic lives?”

Matt paused. “You mean the part where I kiss girls and you…”

“Yeah,” Jordan said quickly.

“Have you—”

“No,” he said even quicker. Matt shut up. He wished it were a clear night.

“So things have never changed, then.”

*

I have chapter 2 nealy done, working on finishing it now. This is completly unedited >_< If you see any MAJOR errors, feel free to poke at them, so I can correct them on my final draft. For now, every word counts! >_< I'm happy with the way the story is progressing and growing, but I did have trouble nailing down Matt and Jordan's personalities. Matt's just spacey, likes to tell stories about mythological creatures, etc. So basically, Matt's a huge dork. He is very spiruatual although he was rasied Catholic. You'll see sometime (possibly in chapter two or three) how his ADOPTIVE parents brought him to church but don't really agree with EVERYTHING the church decides (which is the problem I'm having myself with the church right now--grr). So he was taught to hate gays in society, but it was never inforced, hense why he's so torn. Jordan was a hard character to pin down, too, though chapter two gets him pretty good. He's a little awkward in some social sitations, but most of the time he's focused, witty and sarcastic. You know the type. Hope you've enjoyed chapter one! Oh and DON'T STEAL!!!! This journal isn't locked so you're on the honor system here! Comments/reviews are loved.

And, no, Matt is not going to automatically turn gay. And, yes, as in my nature this will be tragic.