Parallel: The Secret Life of Jordan McKay

by Abra Ebner

  Harvard men were different, they had a sense of fun about them but they were also smart. I trusted them to be gentlemen and they always bought me a drink, even if I wasn’t going to give them the time of day to deserve one. Max, on the other hand, still needed to grow up, but I knew that there was a possibility with him that someday he could, but I wasn’t about to sit around and wait either. I had stuck with him only because I thought it was worth giving him a chance, but that chance had been long exhausted.

  I watched Amy move about the room as I marveled at her posture. If there was anything she was an expert at, it was the art of attracting men. She was always the promiscuous one, always the flirt. I was never like that; I had morals but that didn’t mean I judged her, either. No matter what her fetish, I didn’t care, just as long as she made a good friend.

  “Whew!” Amy threw herself onto her bed and pulled her glasses off her head and rubbed her makeup-free eyes. “So the rugby team is having a party tonight over at the rugby house. Are you in?”

  I smiled. “Of course I’m in.”

  She sat up and looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Good.”

  I laughed. “Tell me something, Amy. How does anyone even recognize you enough to inform you of all these parties?”

  She chuckled like an old lady and waved me away, “They don’t, I just overhear.” She blinked a few times. “I like it this way. I’m such a mystery to them. Where do I live? What’s my real name? All these things are important to me, because I don’t need my slumming past coming back for me in the future when I’m sitting in a chair next to Barbara Walters discussing my bestselling novel about the morals of women.”

  I let out a sharp laugh, finding her words both abrasive and truthful.

  “But you, my dear, you are going to be a doctor. The slummier the better.” She winked at me and removed her top layer, one of what looked like five, that helped squish her chest like a pancake. There were two closets on both sides of the room which was perfect for her, one for Jekyll and the other for Hyde.

  “So, how is your ass of a boyfriend today?” She threw open her ‘daytime closet’ and hung her clothes, stripping down to her underwear before opening her ‘evening closet.’

  “Shut up, Amy. He’s not that much of an ass.” I didn’t know why I was defending him, but I guess it was my nature to retaliate.

  She gave me a narrowed look over her shoulder, her tattoos now showing, “Honey, from how he sounds, he’s one beer and a date rape away from a degree in prison.”

  I laughed. “So are you there, Honey.”

  She squealed. “I am not! I’m a woman. Women get away with murder.”

  “Sure, Amy.” I rolled my eyes at her back.

  She grumbled and pulled a shirt from her closet. I tilted my head. Or perhaps it was a dress? I watched her pull it over her head, finally deducing that somehow it was a dress, though it frightened me to put it in that sort of category. She dove back into her closet and pulled out a pair of heels that were taller than I’d ever seen, and bright red.

  Amy didn’t trust Max, even though she barely knew anything about him. I wanted to believe he was faithful, but I knew how he had always been. He had two sides, just like Amy did: the one he showed me and the one he hung out with his friends with.

  “So, let’s go get some food before leaving. I’d hate to throw up later when I drink too much.”

  I laughed. “It’s frightening how your brain works. You only eat to prevent alcohol poisoning.”

  She tilted her head as her mouth twisted into a smile. “Well, what else would I eat for? Food is overrated unless used to keep the party going!”

  I shook my head. “Whatever, Amy. Let me just get changed and we can leave. I don’t want to look like the nerd next to you.”

  Statement from Dr. Ashcroft,

  Vincent Memorial Hospital, Boston

  August 3, 2009

  02:21 a.m.

  Dr. Ashcroft:

  Later that night, after a few pieces of campus pizza and a martini, we grabbed a cab and drove to the rugby house. I remember that the house was crowded with people from all over, not just Harvard.

  Agent Donnery:

  I see. I never heard this side of it before.

  Dr. Ashcroft:

  Naturally you wouldn’t. Jordan had no idea I was there, he’d been elsewhere at the time I decided to go. But here is where he begins to write about it.

  Agent Donnery:

  And fate threw you a curve ball.

  Dr. Ashcroft:

  Yes.

  Told by Dr. Ashcroft

  September 31, 2005

  8:48 p.m.

  We arrived at the house and tried to find a place to park.

  “Stupid drunks, it’s not even nine yet.” Amy slammed her hands against the steering wheel.

  “Here!” I jumped and pointed at a spot between an old Camaro and a black Tahoe.

  “I hate parallel parking,” Amy whined.

  “Come on, it’s not that hard.” I guided her forward and then back into the tight spot, and she followed my directions to a tee.

  “There.” Amy let out a contented sigh of relief and grabbed her heels from the back seat, strapping them on her feet as her tiny dress rode up her thighs, revealing her bright pink thong strap.

  “Geez, Amy.” I shielded my eyes and turned away.

  “What!” She laughed. “Oh come on, you prude, at least I’m wearing them! Let’s go.”

  We both crawled out of the car as I stumbled onto the curve, the effects of the double martini already pulling at my center of balance.

  Trees lined the street, and I found myself wary of them, as though someone was there watching us. I nudged Amy to hurry as her heels sank into the damp grass.

  “This is tricky,” she added, trying to look composed though she really looked like an idiot, or at least a hooker, but I loved her anyway.

  She put one hand on my shoulder and used me like a crutch as her heels sunk into the grass. I couldn’t help but laugh at her concentrated face, as though she were in some sort of competition against the lawn to win her heels back. Her struggles were fitting for an entrance at a Rugby party, considering they made competing against the lawn an official sport, just not in the hopes of winning a pair of red pumps, or so I hope.

  We knocked on the door once before letting ourselves in, figuring there was no way anyone could hear the sounds above the loud music that made my soul shake. Before we even breached the threshold, a handsome jock in a pair of jeans and no shirt handed us a keg cup and pointed us in the direction of what I supposed was the kitchen. Amy thanked him and gave him a pat on the chest, trailing her finger between his pecks and down his stomach, smacking her lips.

  Amy then grabbed my hand and led me through the crowd as she commanded the attention of what seemed every man in the room. She didn’t acknowledge any of them but rather held her head in the air and batted her eyes in some sort of mating ritual.

  “Hey there, gorgeous.” A man shamelessly stared at Amy’s chest and grabbed her ass before staring at me next. “And hey to you, too.” He winked at me and I tried my best to hold back the eye roll. What a pig!

  “Hi,” I said back, giving him a half-hearted smile that told him to go away. I wasn’t drunk enough to find those lines attractive.

  As we walked, I began to wonder what Max’s parties were like, and if he acted the same way. Despite the fact that I acted as though I didn’t care when women stared at him, a part of me still felt jealous just because he was mine to a degree, even if it wasn’t a very strong one.

  Once in the kitchen, we filled our cups and chugged them, wincing and breathing heavily as the beer stung our throats. I was at least relieved to find that the beer had been premium, not the watered down beer spritzers I had been subjected to at Boston College. It was a crime people even brewed beer that bad, but there was a market, and that market was cheap college kids.

  I took a few sips as the foam settled, and assessed the situation in the r
oom. There was an equal ratio of jocks to girls, and I felt comfortable knowing that it wasn’t as though they were preying on a few gorgeous women, because they all looked like super models. I stood tall, knowing that I was also beautiful, but perhaps not as beautiful as some.

  As I drained my last sip of beer, my head tilting toward the ceiling, I felt someone come up behind me and grab my waist.

  “Do you want to dance?”

  I dropped the cup from my lips and turned around with a look of shock on my face. I hadn’t really expected to get picked up while I was here. More or less, I was expecting that my job was watching to make sure Amy stayed out of trouble.

  My eyes stared into those of a tall, brawny man with brown hair, and I smiled. “Sure.” I put the cup down by the keg and left it, feeling as though I’d had enough to hold my buzz.

  I glanced back at Amy and saw that she was already playing tonsil hockey with another brawny man with dirty blonde hair and arms strong enough to snap her in half. His hand was half way up her thigh and under her dress, and I laughed at the fact it had taken her only moments to find suitable entertainment for the night. I figured she was in good hands for now, and I’d come check on her after the dance. It wasn’t as though she was really going to go anywhere seeing as she had the man pinned against the wall in the corner. It was clear that she had things under control.

  The guy next to me leaned in close to my ear, “My name is Jack.” His breath smelled like whiskey and it tickled my skin as I wrinkled my nose, thinking his name fit the smell of his breath.

  I turned my attention back to him. “Well hello, Jack,” I paused. “My name is Heather.” It was best to use fake names.

  He led me from the kitchen into the main room where the music was blaring over the speakers that were nestled into every corner. He moved his body close to mine, and we began to dance. I looked over his shoulder and around the room, the beer making my body even more fluid than it already was. There were couples cramming the space, all dancing in a way that made me feel awkward. I turned and looked to my left as Jack put his chin on my shoulder, acting like someone that had been dating me for years instead of someone I’d just met.

  I swallowed hard and rolled my eyes, thinking that I didn’t belong here. Looking back toward the door we had come in through, and my inevitable escape, it was then that I spotted someone watching us from across room. I narrowed my eyes to look at him, seeing that it was a face I couldn’t recognize yet had known, as though it were the face of a famous actor. When our eyes met, he quickly turned away and disappeared around the corner, a look of frustration on his face like you’d see from a jealous boyfriend.

  I furrowed my brow as my rhythm slowed and I became distracted, my mind searching to place the face with a name, something familiar, like a professor or childhood friend.

  “Hey, baby.” Jack put his hand on my lower back and pulled me closer. “What’s wrong?” He trailed his nose across my cheek.

  I giggled to save face, but my insides curdled. “Nothing.” I allowed my pace to pick back up, erasing the thoughts of the man from my mind.

  He smiled against my neck. “Good.”

  When the song stopped, Jack gave me a polite peck on the cheek and stepped back as though the music gave him the right to act forward, but now that it was over he had to be a gentleman. Though he had a creepy vibe, my gut told me he was safe and I could trust him. I was not the Amy type, who would jump in bed with anything that moved, and tonight was no exception, but it was always fun to play along to a point.

  “Can I get you another beer?” He ran his hand down the arm of my white long sleeved v-neck, his eyes wandering to my chest which had been enhanced by one of Amy’s water bras.

  I nodded as he grabbed my hand and led me to the side of the room, where he sat me in a blue velvet chair that looked like it was straight from the sixties.

  “I’ll be right back.” His smile was adorable. “So don’t run off with someone new.” He touched my auburn hair, allowing it to lace through his fingers.

  I laughed and gave him a coy look.

  He disappeared around the corner then, and I looked around the room with curious eyes, wondering where the man with the familiar face had gone. If I could only get a clear look at him, I was certain I’d know where I knew him from. I had a knack for remembering a face and an insatiable need to figure it out if I didn’t.

  I watched everyone dance, peeking my head around each body in the hopes of finding him. Sighing as I began to give up, I looked toward the kitchen where Amy had been but she was gone, replaced by a new couple and Jack, who was filling a keg cup. He looked back toward me and gave me a wink so I winked back, letting him know I was still here and still thinking of him, though that was hardly the case.

  I let out a sharp breath and looked back toward the room, thinking about Max and now looking for Amy. I wasn’t being fair to him. I should just bite the bullet and break it off so that the feeling of guilt would no longer trap me. Max was an old crutch that I needed to get rid of; I wanted to feel free again. I sighed. I felt as though I had been trying to justify our relationship, our coming breakup, and our failures all day, and it was beginning to get obsessively repetitive. I needed to stop. It was then that I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped, looking up as my eyes met Jack’s.

  “Here you are, Heather.” He pressed a red keg cup toward me, and I took it as he offered me his hand.

  I placed my palm in his and he pulled me up out of the chair. “I’m impressed you remembered my name.” I was leaning close to his ear, the music blaring.

  “Of course.” He placed his hand on my lower back and led me back into the crowd, where we danced some more, my drink sloshing onto the floor.

  Looking around I began to get concerned about where Amy was. I was a worrier, and I couldn’t help it. She was someone to worry about. A guilty feeling washed over me then, and I couldn’t help but feel something was wrong. I took a deep breath as my heart began to race, ignoring the fact that Jack’s hand was now on my ass. I took a sip of my beer to cool off, the bubbles scratching their way down my dry throat.

  Jack began kissing my neck, and for a moment I forgot what I was worried about, my skin tingling as I shut my eyes. He trailed his hand up my back, and I shivered, feeling the way his touch seemed to make my whole body go numb. I tilted my head against his shoulder and opened my eyes again, looking across the room toward the entryway where stairs led up to the second floor. Jack ran his hand through my hair and I giggled and blinked, feeling rather woozy.

  I watched the people enter and leave the room, my thoughts of Amy and the strange man trailing away from me on a river of thoughts, all the while feeling the music become a part of my movements as it lulled me into a trance. Jack whispered in my ear, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying so I just nodded, leaning against him for support. I took another sip of my beer, spilling it some more, and I cursed my clumsy grip.

  “Whoops,” I laughed, stepping back and brushing the beer from my jeans. When I looked up, I looked back to the hall where the strange man had returned, walking up the stairs in a manner that looked frantic. I shook my head as Jack put his hands on my shoulders to steady me, a sly look on his face as my stomach dropped, and I realized what was happening.

  “Are you alright?” he drawled.

  I looked down at my beer and rolled my eyes. How stupid of me! I dropped the cup on the ground as it sloshed all over the floor, not caring about the consequences it caused. I looked back at Jack, now wishing I had the strength to deck him, furious that he would have the gall to spike my beer. I looked back at the stairs as I stumbled, and Jack caught me. Despite the danger I was in, the insatiable need to follow the strange man was pulling me like a magnet, and I knew that Jack’s strength could help.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, grabbing Jack’s hand and pulling him toward the entry. I heard him laugh behind me, his thoughts obviously changing from that of the gentleman to that of an arrogant pig.

>   “Where are we going?” he asked, grabbing my ass and smiling.

  I rolled my eyes, finding it hard to walk as I encouraged Jack to brace me. For whatever reason, I was not worried about me but rather whatever the man in the hall was doing, and where he was going. Somehow, I felt as though my problem wasn’t the biggest issue at hand, and an undeniable feeling of fear and anxiety washed over me as I reached the steps. I was climbing with difficulty but Jack helped, though I knew his intentions were anything but chivalrous, as the groping became rude. At the top of the stairs, I looked down the hall as my legs threatened to buckle, my clouded gaze meeting those of the man in the green coat, his eyes blue like a stormy ocean.

  He quickly looked away as though disgusted by my actions, but too involved in his own task to do anything about it. Jack grabbed my waist and leaned me against the wall, his mouth attacking mine as he gave me a sloppy kiss. I tightened my jaw in frustration, my eyes still trying to watch the man but finding my efforts now thwarted. I tried to push Jack away from me, stealing another glance at the man. He was staring at a shut door in the hall with a pensive look on his face. It seemed as though he was on a mission somehow, as though he knew me but was too distracted to entertain a friendly gesture.

  Jack pushed against me, almost hurting me now and shoving his tongue down my throat. With an annoyed grumble, I mustered all the strength I could manage and channeled it to my arms so I could finally push him off me, throwing him into the wall on the other side of the hall with a strength I had learned serving in the cheerleader army. I stumbled then, and Jack laughed, trying to belittle me into submission, but I was smarter than that.

  “Heather,” he said with a voice that now had turned almost evil.

  I was staring at Jack, but I could see the man in the green coat now turn his attention on us from the corner of his eye. I began to wonder why he wasn’t helping me as he shook the knob on a door halfway down the hall, finding it locked. I could swear he had fear in his eye now, sweat coating his brow. It was as though I could feel his heart beating in my own chest, and it was then that I knew there was something going on behind that door that I needed to see.