Along Came Jordan

by Brenda Maxfield

  I pressed my lips together and willed myself to stay quiet.

  "Let's call it a night," she said, and I thought I detected laughter in her voice.

  "Fine." I stretched down into the soft sheets. Lying in such luxury, I should've gone to sleep in an instant.

  But I didn't.

  Chapter Four

  I left early the next morning. I never did meet Laine's mom, which was a fat disappointment. I'd visualized a thin, vapid socialite with a long chiffon gown floating around the ballroom downstairs, and I wanted to know if I was right. Guess I'd never know.

  "Thanks, Laine, for the eye-opening stay," I said when Charles announced Mom's car.

  Laine pinched out an acid scowl. "If you need anything at school, ask me. I know everybody and everything. Remember what I told you about Jordan and me."

  "How could I forget?"

  "I'll see you Monday." And with those words, the sleepover was complete.

  I dashed to the car and jumped in. Mom whistled. "Wow, this is off our beaten path."

  "Yeah, I know. They've got a butler."

  "No way."

  "Truth," I said. "What's everyone doing at home?"

  "Sarah's watching TV and won't talk to anyone. Has she spoken with you, Emili? Is it her new teacher or her class? She won't say a word."

  "The kids hate her."

  "What? Hate Sarah? Not possible."

  "I know, but right now they do. I told her it'd get better."

  Mom slumped and lowered her head. The car swerved.

  "Mom, watch where you're going!"

  She jerked upright and yanked the steering wheel to the left. "I'm worried about her."

  I saw new creases around her eyes. "Things blow over. In another week, she'll be the belle of the ball, like she was at Bates."

  Mom chuckled. "She was a quite a belle, wasn't she?"

  "Yeah, she was." I laughed with her. Had I known we wouldn't laugh again together for a long time — especially about Sarah — I'd have drawn out the moment. But I hadn't know, so I changed the subject.

  "What's Dad doing?"

  "Nothing, as usual." Then she seemed to remember that she was talking to his daughter and corrected herself. "I mean, I believe he's reading."

  "He's not going to find another job, is he?"

  She pursed her lips, and her eyebrows scrunched like a wrinkled sheet. "He's trying, but no, I don't think so."

  I sighed and turned away, pressing my nose against the window.

  "Looks like you're making friends though." Her voice was hopeful.

  "Yeah," I said, but I kept my face plastered to the glass.

  ****

  I couldn't wait to get to school on Monday. Not because of class, but to get out of the house. The weekend passed like a funeral. Sarah continued her vow of silence. Between bouts of coughing, Dad banged around like a gorilla, doing chores and yelling at anyone who looked at him crosswise. Mom spent her time shooting heavy sighs at Dad like arrows.

  At first, I tried to help with the chores. I bantered about whatever foolishness came into my head. I used to get big laughs from everyone with my stupid jokes. This time, all I got was the evil eye. Finally, I gave up and shut myself in my room and started worrying — mostly about Sarah. Her reaction to changing schools seemed way out of proportion. Since when does a normally chatty kid clamp her lips shut?

  On Monday, I searched the hallway, and neither Sally nor Margo were there to greet me. A whispering worry danced in my mind. Were they mad because I'd spent the night with Laine? I couldn't afford to lose their friendship, or I'd be back to having no one.

  Bud from Environmental Club was waiting for me, though.

  "Emili, may I say again you're brilliant!" He waved his spiral notebooks at me, and his face lit up like a kindergartner digging in the class treasure chest. "LaShawna told me we got permission. We can auction ourselves off as servants as soon as possible. It's a go."

  "Great." Like usual, I found myself grinning in Bud's presence.

  "Naturally there will be some rules: no doing homework, no bullying — stuff you'd expect. We have to get this organized right away. We need the money by the first of the year."

  "Okay."

  "I thought you should be in charge since it was your idea."

  The smile dropped from my lips like a rock. "Whoa, wait a minute. In charge like how?"

  "Set it up. Get the announcements out. Plan who does what. Sign up the servants."

  I held up my hand. "I'm new here. You should choose someone everybody knows."

  "You'll be fine. I put Jordan and Laine on the committee with you, and I promise you, everybody knows Laine." He smirked. "I'm going to ask Lacey, too, but she probably can't, since she's always busy."

  "I don't think I can either." A definite cloud of dread brooded around me.

  Bud shrugged me off. "Of course you can. It'll give you a chance to get to know everyone. Hey, you're meeting today after school in room 201, since our regular room is now being used for detention."

  "EC doesn't meet on Mondays."

  Bud laughed. "Does today. Thanks, Emili." He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

  I followed quite a few steps behind him and headed toward my locker. Another committee with Laine and Jordan? Oh boy, this would be fun.

  After school, I was the first to arrive. Five minutes later, Laine and Jordan walked in together. I knew in my bones Laine had waited until she saw Jordan coming, and then happened to walk in with him to make her point.

  "Emili, isn't this going to be wild?" she asked, her voice bubbling. Much as I hated to admit it, bubbling sounded good on Laine.

  "Wild," I answered with zero bubble in my tone.

  Wasn't this the girl who had tried to kill the idea, earlier? My, how things changed when a hot guy was thrown into the mix.

  Jordan nodded at me, pulled out a chair, and straddled it. He could've posed for a sports commercial. Despite the fact that it was winter, there was a rugged glow to his skin. I wondered if he cross-country skied or something. He had the muscles for cross-country. Looking at him, warmth spread through me, and a shiver ran down my legs.

  Laine jumped right to it. "I have a list of all the duties for our Servant Sale. I like the name Servant Sale, don't you? Sums it up. I thought we could chat about each task and what each will entail."

  Efficient, in-charge Laine was in her element.

  "I thought Emili was heading this up," Jordan said.

  Laine flinched but regrouped fast. "Yes, Bud mentioned that, but Emili has a lot going on, what with being new and all. I thought I'd help her out."

  They both turned to stare at me.

  "Right, Emili?" Laine asked. Her voice might have been dipped in honey, but the look she gave me glared a warning.

  An anchor settled in my gut. Something in me wanted to jump to my feet and demand my rights as chairperson, but common sense shoved my protest to the background. I repeated my silent mantra over and over: Be friendly, Emili. Be friendly.

  "Right. We'll work together."

  Jordan frowned. "Wasn't Lacey supposed to come?"

  "Not available." Laine looked at her notes. "I thought we'd announce the Servant Sale during lunch periods. In the meantime, we can put up teaser posters around school. I'll get the supplies. Jordan, can you come over to my house and work on them?"

  He eyed her. "Why don't we do it after school? It'd be easier."

  I chimed in, "Doesn't matter to me either way." Then I realized Laine hadn't asked me.

  My eyes met Jordan's, but he couldn't hold my gaze. If I hadn't know better, I'd say he was angry. Confusion fluttered over me like loose shavings from a saw.

  Laine started in again. Jordan fastened his attention on her, not looking my way for the rest of the meeting. At four o'clock, Laine stood. "Time to go. Emili, you need a ride?"

  "Sure, if it's okay."

  Jordan cleared his throat and undraped himself from his chair. "She'll meet you outside. I need to ta
lk to her for a minute."

  Laine balked, her eyebrows crunching into a tight frown. Her gaze bounced from Jordan to me. "Okay. See you downstairs, then." She walked out slower than an injured cat.

  I stood and faced him, wondering what this was all about.

  "It's not going to happen, Emili," Jordan announced, his voice as firm as any candidate for office.

  "What?"

  "You and me."

  "What?"

  "You and me." He pointed back and forth between us. "It's not going to happen."

  My mouth clamped shut, annoyance edging its way into my tightened jaw. I managed to ask, "What are you talking about?"

  "This plan of yours. You know, you and me becoming an item."

  "Plan of mine, huh? Aren't you the smartest person ever?"

  Jordan's brow wrinkled. I could see a surprised look of uncertainty hover over his face as he shuffled his feet and glanced around the empty room.

  "For your information, I have no plans involving you."

  "But Sally and Margo both told me. They said—"

  "Did they, now?" I interrupted.

  Jordan rustled the papers he was holding. He coughed and edged toward the hallway, his eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. "I wanted to avoid any misunderstanding, because I'm not available."

  I followed him to the door, closing in until I was a whisper away. I leaned in, my breath tight. Heat surged across my face, and I rose to my toes. "I'm not available either, so if you want to rejoice, feel free."

  I sank to my feet and marched away, turning back to throw one last zinger. "You know, to avoid any misunderstanding."

  My heart pounded and my hands were shaking. Were Sally and Margo against me now? Were they plotting to make me look like a fool?

  I banged open my locker and grabbed my books.

  I agreed with Sarah. I hated my new school.

  ****

  Sally and Margo were waiting for me Tuesday morning. I approached them, dragging my feet as if slogging through ankle-deep mud. The whole Jordan episode was their fault, and I wasn't in a forgiving mood.

  Sally rushed up to me. "Sorry, Emili. We talked to Jordan last night."

  "Did you guys tell him I wanted to go out? What did you say?"

  Margo shook her head. "It was all a huge mess-up. We only said you were new and cute and nice and maybe he should pay attention."

  Sally crossed her heart. "Yeah, nothing else. He's the one who took it wrong. What a doofus. We didn't mean you were hot on his trail."

  "That's how he took it."

  "I know. Sorry," Margo said.

  They both gave me puppy eyes, and sincerity oozed off of them. Since I wasn't exactly drowning in friends at Edgemont, I relented. "No harm done."

  Sally bobbed her head up, eagerness all over her face. "Thanks, Emili, but you'll still go after him, right?"

  I frowned. "Are you kidding? After yesterday? No way. Besides, I'm not in the market." My mind flashed back to Farah. I'd let her control my love life at Bates, and what a disaster that turned out to be. Never again.

  I was ashamed to admit it, but hope for Marc's return still burned in my heart.

  Margo jabbed me in the ribs. "Give it time. You'll fall for him like the rest of us."

  Bud hurried over, balancing a huge stack of papers and notebooks. "Hey, Emili — oh, hi, Sally and Margo — you're working on posters after school. Laine has all the stuff. Be there."

  Like a cyclone, he was gone.

  Margo looked after him. "He makes me dizzy."

  "But he's cute," Sally said.

  "Yeah, and bossy," I murmured.

  After school, I took my time wandering into room 201. Laine and Jordan were already there, bending over the poster boards, tracing letters with florescent markers.

  "Emili, we don't need your help," Laine announced.

  Jordan glanced at me — a quick once-over as if we were strangers. He gave a tiny shrug and resumed work on his poster.

  "Bud told me to come," I said. "I'm here now, so you might as well use me."

  Laine grimaced. "Fine. Grab some markers. Here's what we're writing." She shoved a paper my way.

  I snapped it up along with a blank piece of poster board. I plopped them onto an empty desk and turned to grab an orange marker. Jordan reached for the same one and our hands brushed. A jolt of electricity traveled up my arm. Both of us jerked back as if scalded. Blood rushed to my cheeks. Our response was so exaggerated I felt like a fool.

  Jordan's mumbled apology didn't offer much in the way of comfort.

  "Same here," I said, the words cracking through my bone-dry throat.

  Laine regarded the whole scenario like a fox casing her prey. Her eyes narrowed, and I watched her assess the damage.

  "Emili, on second thought, why don't you help me with this one?" she said.

  "Fine," I answered, more than willing to change spots.

  Jordan said nothing, only focused on coloring in the letters of his poster.

  Bud came by as we were straightening up. "Hey, guys, how's it going?"

  Laine tapped the edges of the stacked posters on the desk. "Finished. We'll hang them tomorrow morning. Jordan, can you be here early?"

  "I'm always early," he answered.

  Bud looked at me. "You can help, too. Guys, this is great. Leave the posters here. You can pick them up in the morning. There's tape on the back desk."

  "See ya," I said and darted out of the room. My skin still tingled with the memory of Jordan's touch. Only one other time had I been burn-touched — from Lance, my disaster boyfriend.

  I couldn't — wouldn't — go through that again.

  I slung my backpack over my shoulder and ran down the stairs to the pickup zone. Dad was already there, so I jumped into the car and fastened my seat belt.

  He said nothing as he revved the engine and pulled out. His eyes were fastened on the road, and his face was a blank field of snow.

  "Hey, Dad."

  He flinched, as if surprised I was there, and then glanced at me. "Hello."

  Not even a How did your day go? Did you make more friends?

  "How are you doing?" I asked.

  "Couldn't be better." His voice matched his face — a blank void.

  "Sarah home?"

  "She's home." His grip on the steering wheel tightened and his knuckles went white.

  "What happened?" I asked, fear rising like water in my stomach. "Is she okay?"

  "She's a prize." Sarcasm dripped off each word, and the thing was, Dad was never sarcastic.

  "What'd she do?"

  "I have an appointment tomorrow at ten. Her principal wants to talk to me."

  "Dad, what'd she do?" Sarah never got in trouble at school. This was new territory.

  "She isn't talking."

  Sarah not talking. Again?

  "I can ask her. She might open up to me."

  "Good luck," he said. His words dropped like rocks.

  We pulled into our driveway. Mom wasn't home yet. Every day, she was getting home later and later, and her work didn't pay overtime.

  Dad stopped the car, and I reached over to squeeze his arm. "I'll talk to Sarah right away."

  She was in her bedroom. I knocked and opened the door a crack. "Can I come in?"

  She shook her head, her blonde hair falling over her face.

  I stuck my head inside. "Come on. I want to talk for a minute."

  "Not talking." She pulled her knees to her chest.

  "You said two words, so you're talking." I walked in and sat on her bed. She was scrunched up next to the headboard. When I joined her, she looked away, fixating on something outside the window.

  "Dad's upset. What's wrong?"

  "Not talking," she repeated.

  Her eyes filled with tears, and she wouldn't look my way. I put my hand on her arm and tried to pull her in my direction, but she resisted, keeping her eyes focused outside.

  "I get it. I had to change schools, too."

  S
he turned toward me, her face contorted with an effort not to cry. I opened my arms, but she still wouldn't come.

  "What happened? Why is Dad going to school tomorrow?"

  The muscles in her face twisted, then hardened. "Not talking."

  "Sarah, come on. What happened?"

  Her lips drew back like some kind of wildcat. "Not talking."

  I cringed and chewed on the tips of my fingers. I stared at her and waited. Nothing. My shoulders slumped, folding in on me.

  No kidding she wasn't talking. What was wrong with her?

  "Fine. I tried."

  I walked out to the living room and faced Dad. "You're right. She wouldn't say anything. Sorry."

  His whole body sagged into the couch. "It's my fault."

  "No, it isn't."

  "Yes, it is. If I'd kept my clients, I wouldn't have lost my job. If I wouldn't have lost my job, Sarah would still be attending Bates."

  "Tons of people lose their jobs. It's not your fault." My sorry attempt to comfort him made me feel like an imposter. When had I become the parent?

  "Thanks, Emili, I appreciate the help, but it is my fault."

  "Where's Mom?"

  Dad blinked hard and looked at his watch. "She should already be home. I hope nothing happened."

  "I'll call her." I took my phone from my pocket and called. It rang and went straight to voice mail. "She's probably in a late meeting or driving home. If she's driving, you know she won't pick up."

  "Yes, I know." He spoke slowly, as if pondering each word. Then he shook himself and stood up. "I'd better get dinner ready."

  "I'll help," I said.

  "No. Do your homework." Dad's tall, about six feet. He used to walk with a quirky bounce, like one leg was shorter than the other. Now, the bounce was gone, and a slouch had taken over. If we measured, I might even be taller.

  I shuddered. My family was careening toward a land of misery, and I couldn't stop the descent.

  I heard Mom's car pull into the driveway, and I darted out to meet her. She was gathering her briefcase and some papers from the back seat.

  "Mom!"

  She glanced up. "Gracious, Emili, you could wait till I get in the door."

  "You're late."

  "Not much. I was busy, and it's been a long tiring day. I'm warning you. I'm in no mood to be interrogated."