by Dakota Lee
“It’s hard to do with a weight around my ankle pulling me down.”
“You know you have the tools to unlock that weight.”
I look up, meeting his gaze. “What if sometimes I think about leaving it there?”
“Do you?”
I shrug my shoulders, not giving an exact answer. “Jordanna?”
“I think disappearing into myself. Being numb. All of that would be better than the fear.”
“And how long have you felt this way?”
“Since my dad’s accident.” I swipe at the tear, because it’s all very real.
* * *
When group lets out, I linger in the hall to make a one-on-one appointment with Dr. Chan. Turning, I come face to face with the man of the hour, Hal Bishop. He sees me and freezes as the door closes behind him. “What are you looking at, charity?”
I ignore him, stepping up to the front desk when it’s my turn and make a show of scrolling through my phone, finding the next date I’m available for a session. I wonder how Hal’s father would feel about how close he is with his future stepmother.
Finding this secret was purely by happenstance. I really did come here for counseling. I was so out of sorts afterwards, after my second appointment, that I had to go to the bathroom to get myself together. It took longer than I thought, and the office was empty by the time I was done. On my way to the elevator, I realized I wasn’t the only one left on the floor.
The future Mrs. Holbrook has a very hands on approach to her therapy sessions. When she and Hal are behind closed doors, whatever breakthroughs he’s having brings her closer to god. I guess as a thank you, she supplies him with his party favors.
Dr. Chan walks over to the desk and hands a file to the medical assistant. His presence breaking through the tension in the room. “Jordanna, I’m proud of the work you did in group today.”
Stealing a glance at Hal, I mumble, “I’m kind of wishing I would’ve skipped it.”
Dr. Chan places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Everyone is bound to the same rules whether they’re in my group, seeing another therapist, or visiting family. Nobody talks about who they’ve encountered here.”
I look up and see he’s staring at Hal, who gives a small nod acknowledging the confidentiality expectation.
I nod my understanding and take the appointment card from the nurse, plugging the date and time in my calendar. I’m no expert on the dating and mating habits of the rich and ruthless, but I can only imagine what would happen if Mr. Holbrook finds out his arm candy is applying therapeutic touch to Hal’s penis.
Fifteen
Logan
I swipe through my phone, wondering how many more drinks and horrible jokes my dad plans to suffer through before calling it a night. We’re at a mandatory charity gala and the under thirty crowd broke off from our parents as soon as the welcome speech was over.
I’m reclining on the sofa in the sitting room we’ve taken over, with a bottle of 16-year-old Lagavulin in my hands, and no, I haven’t offered anyone a drink. They can get their own. There’s maybe thirty of us in the room, and the setting is right for us to have some fun. None of our parents will come looking for us anytime soon, and even if they find us in here, they won’t give a shit what we’re doing.
Adaleide Cartwright walks into the room, turning heads like she always does. The last time I saw her, I was thanking her mother for her help with a little project I had back in high school. Teen dream, Sophie Lareux comes through the door a few seconds later. The last time I saw her was when she was thanking me for helping her book her new television role.
They work the room, trying to decide who to give their time and attention to tonight. I know from experience that whoever it is, is in for a treat. I guzzle another mouthful of Scotch straight from the bottle.
“Don’t you think you should slow down, before you have trouble getting it up?” Bella snipes.
“Don’t you think you should mind your fucking business before I hold you down and make you gag on it?”
“God, when did you become such a mean drunk?”
Right around the time I chose her toxic ass version of friendship over the first woman who was sincere about loving me. Girls have said the words before, but that was because of who I am and what my name could do for them. Jordy didn’t care about any of that shit. She just wanted me, and what we felt for each other was real.
I can’t say that shit out loud, but I can admit it to myself. It was love, and I let the game override the first bit of happiness I’ve had in a while. Now she’s spending all her free time with Noel. I take another drink from the bottle I’m fisting, trying to wipe out the image of Noel and Jordanna together.
The two of them are hanging out all over town. She says they’re networking, but I know him. The only thing he’s doing is laying the foundation to get in her pants. The booze isn’t doing enough to numb my brain, and even though I’m surrounded by sexy, willing women, I don’t want any of them. Maybe I should just call it a night and head home.
It’s my own fault Noel’s squirming his way into Jordy’s life. I knew what I was doing and how badly I was going to hurt her. Now she’s vulnerable to his fake ass charms. He’s MIA tonight. Probably off somewhere, telling Jordy all types of bullshit about how he wants to help her pick up the pieces of her heart and put it back together again.
If I believed in the shit, I’d say her spending time with him is Karma, but calling it payback is closer to the truth. I fucked his girl and his sister freshman year, and now he’s trying to fuck mine. The more I think about it, the more I drink, and the more I drink, the angrier I get. At him, her, Bella, my friends, and at myself.
I’m on my phone again, swiping on Jordy’s Prospectus profile, searching for a clue as to where she is tonight, and what she’s been up to these last few days. Her page is just as blank as it was last semester. Her social circle was small, consisting of Kassidy, a few friends from her classes, and me. Now that I’ve made her public enemy number one, no one’s going to risk my anger by befriending her on this app.
Flipping over to Noel’s page doesn’t yield any different results. He posts a lot about his frat, and his artwork, but there’s nothing on there to help me determine the true status of his relationship with Jordanna.
I’m preparing to close out the app when a post towards the bottom of the page catches my eye. He’s posted a picture of food and captioned it:
* * *
Artistic AF. Snacks for the late-night phone chat
* * *
Jordanna posted directly under it.
* * *
Show off. I spent all day over a cold stove and all I’ve got is granola.
* * *
Then he responded with,
* * *
Cold is where you went wrong. Next time call me and I’ll help you heat things up.
* * *
That’s the end of the comments, but it’s enough. She’s on his wall, flirting. What the fuck? She should be sitting home as miserable as I am, lying in bed, replaying what would have happened, if we hadn’t of been interrupted by Bella’s text. But nope, she’s acting like it meant nothing, being cutesy and flirty with my rival.
Obviously I can’t let her and Noel get too chummy, but there’s no way I’ll be able to break that shit up if I don’t have anyone close to her on my side. My thoughts drift back to Tabitha, telling me Jordy went home with Kassidy during the break. It might be time to pay an old friend a visit.
Jordanna
I’m winded after rushing up the stairs to my floor. I had to turn around halfway to class because I realized I’d forgotten my textbook. I come to a stop just inside the door trying to make sense of the scene in front of me. Kassidy jumps from the couch, hurrying towards me, looking guilty.
“What’s going on?,” I ask, sliding my eyes over to where she was sitting.
Logan stands, and Kassidy rushes to explain. “I know how you feel about Logan.”
“So wh
y is he here?”
“I came to apologize to Kassidy.”
I step towards him, my hands balled into fists at my side. “What the hell did you do?” I launch myself at him and he grips my wrists, holding me away from his body so I can’t hit him.
Kassidy walks over, pulling me away from him and steers me to the couch. “He came to say he’s sorry for using our friendship to get to you.”
“He did, huh?” Sounds like bullshit to me. Any second now he’ll make a fool out of her too.
“Yes.” He nods, smiling too sweetly at my friend. “I realize I may have caused a rift between the two of you. I feel bad about that and figured I should clear the air.”
“You didn’t. Kassidy and I are just fine.”
“That’s what I told him.” Kass says, rubbing my shoulders.
I’m sure she did, because it’s the truth. “Did you also tell him his late ass apology doesn’t magically fix things, and he’s still not welcome here?”
“Uh…”
“Kassidy, come on. He apologizes like people give air kisses at those fancy parties in The Hollows. Fake with no intention of actually connecting with another person.”
“Which is why I told him he has to prove that he’s being sincere, and that we’re not going back to the trust I had in him before. And I also told him this is your room and until you say otherwise, he shouldn’t come here.”
Kassidy might not have been the one he targeted, but she got caught up in his game, too. She’s juggling how to keep friends she’s known for years while still remaining loyal to me. I hate that she’s stuck in the middle like this. I tell her again that she doesn’t have to let what happened to me affect her life.
“Kass, we just met, and I know you have history with a lot of students here. I won’t tell you that you have to choose me over your friends. That includes the cruel bastard behind you.”
Her eyes flick to Logan when she says, “If I decide to bless Logan with my friendship again, it won’t be me choosing him over you, and the moment it looks like he’s about to start some shit, I’ll dropkick him back to the curb. He has a lot of proving to do.” She looks back at me. “Okay?”
Logan walks over to the door and says, “Whatever you decide, Kass, thanks for hearing me out.”
When he’s gone, I slump down onto the couch. “You don’t buy that, though, right?”
She shrugs, pulling her knee up, and shifts to face me. “The thing is, when I first moved to Kingsley Hollow, I was an outsider and nobody wanted to be friends with me. The kid with the hippy mom is what they called me. But Logan was one of the first people to talk to me. This was all before high school. Before he changed. He was different then. Kind. Funny. Sweet. Those were glimpses of the guy I saw last semester when he pursued you.”
“Manipulated me. Played me. It wasn’t a pursuit. It was a game.”
“Right, but that doesn’t change what I saw and a small part of me thinks some of it was genuine.” She holds up her hand before I can interrupt. “I’m not saying any of it was right, or making excuses for what he did, and I’m still pissed about him using me to get to you. But he says he’s sorry and only time will tell if he’s being sincere or not. I choose to give him that time.”
I don’t have the luxury of time or the experiences she has with Logan. Since the first day we met, all he’s done was toy with me, my life and my emotions, and I suspect him coming here to apologize was just one more attempt to do the same. But I let the subject drop because I don’t want to influence her decision.
There’s a bouquet of flowers in front of our door when I get back to my room after class. I bend down to pick it up, parting the fragrant petals, searching for a card. The blooms are so big the plastic card holder is hidden between them. At the top of the card is a line from a Keats poem.
* * *
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art (Keats)
* * *
Jordanna,
* * *
Welcome back to school. When you look at these flowers, know that they symbolize my fervent hope that you will allow me the chance to make the worst days of this semester outshine the best parts of last.
* * *
The flowers are gorgeous, and as apologies go, this is a nice one, but I hope Logan doesn’t think this is enough to soften my heart. I place the flowers on my desk and stretch out on the bed to work on my assignments. I finish reading the assigned chapters for my Interpersonal Communications class before stopping for dinner. It’s Italian night, and I promised Kassidy I’d eat with her. It didn’t take much to persuade me. I love pasta and since my account isn’t on life support, I can eat any meal I want. I don’t because I still believe in being thrifty, but I can purchase a higher priced meal if I want to.
It’s the evening meal rush hours, which means Logan and his court are at their table. At the end of last semester, and even at the beginning of this one, I would have averted my gaze. Today, I lock eyes with each of them as we walk by. No matter what Logan says, I know they still want me gone, and it’s only a matter of time before they attack. I just hope I have everything in place before then.
Sixteen
Jordanna
I couldn’t sleep after you left the studio that night
* * *
I blocked Logan’s number and his profile on Prospectus, but somehow he’s found a way to privately message me.
* * *
I was so hard I had to jack off just to get some relief while I sucked your taste off my fingers. I’m getting hard right now, just thinking about it.
* * *
I’m not responding to any of this, because what happened with Logan was a mistake. My head knows this. It’s my traitorous body that doesn’t care. I read the next message.
* * *
I know you saw that message from Bella, and it wasn’t what you think. This isn’t over Jordanna
* * *
Leave me alone
* * *
Never
* * *
I toss my phone on the bed with an angry huff. I know this is a game to him, but images of him touching himself are still doing a fox trot through my head. That, along with the memory of his hands on my body, and inside of me, has me slipping my hands into the waistband of my sweatpants.
Just this one time, I’ll bring myself a release while thinking of him. Then, I’ll lock it down again. I rub myself and dip two fingers inside the way he did. I’m not as full as I am when he touches me, but it’s enough to send me over the edge. I cum hard and fast to thoughts of him hovering over me. My free hand grips my sheet and I bite down on my lip, refusing to let his name roll off my tongue.
* * *
I duck my head when I see Logan outside our class. He’s saying hello to Kassidy while staring at me. I avert my gaze, waiting while Kass hands her notebook to a friend from her psychology class. Logan disregards my obvious attempt at ignoring him, and comes to stand next to me. “Having trouble meeting my eyes, after our chat last night?”
“No, I just don’t wanna look at you. I liked my breakfast and don’t wanna barf it back up.”
He leans closer, his smell assaulting my nose. “Are you sure it’s not because you screamed my name last night when you brought yourself to orgasm?”
I feel my face flush, because that’s exactly it, minus the screaming. Though I did mumble into my pillow to stifle it down. I follow Kass to our seats, smiling when I see Dixon. There’s a guy who would never text me about how he had to jack off in the middle of the night.
My phone chimes and against my better judgement, I look at it.
* * *
It’s okay, Jordy. I called your name when I came last night, too
* * *
Squeezing my thighs together, my eyes sweep across the room before looking over to where he’s sitting. His lips tip up in a knowing grin. Sonofabitch.
* * *
The school’s sponsoring a trip to the city to see an art exhibit featuring one of VDU�
�s former students, and I signed up to go. We’re in the auditorium going over the rules for the trip. The first three say:
* * *
Stay with the group.
No underage drinking.
Respect hotel property.
* * *
I’m sure each of those will be broken the first night there. We’ll be paired off two to a room. Most of the students have already picked their roommates. Social pariah that I am, I won’t find out who I’m bunking with until we check in at the hotel.
There’s a flurry of movement to my right. Well, at least there will will be one friendly face there, since Noel’s signed up to chaperone. I wave when he reaches my row with his stack of itineraries. He gives me a quick smile and winks before moving to the other side of the aisle.
The familiar scent of mint, clay and fire engulf me, as Logan slides into the chair next to me, asking, “What did I miss?”
I inwardly groan and outwardly grimace. Getting away from campus and him and his friends is one of the biggest draws of this trip. “Are you lost?”
“Without you in my life, yes. I’m aimlessly adrift, without purpose.”
I really wish he were adrift somewhere. Like lost at sea in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle. “Please tell me you’re just here crashing the meeting. Or you’re here to irk the shit out of me. Say anything other than you’re going on this trip.”