Along Came Jordan (14 page)

****

Sarah hadn't moved the whole time I was gone. She was still curled into the corner of the couch, watching cartoons.

"Are you brain-dead yet?"

She craned her neck, looking around.

"No one's in the kitchen to hear you," I said.

She breathed out. "Emili, your dress…"

"I know. Isn't it great?" I plopped onto the couch next to her, undid the knot at the base, and held the hanger high. "I have to help at the ball tonight at school."

"It's a princess dress."

I nodded. "Yeah, it is."

"Who are you going with?"

"This guy from school. Well, I'm not actually going with him. He's on the committee with me, and we have to help with whatever Janae bosses us into." I pressed the dress close, and the plastic whispered against my neck.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend. Is it the guy who comes over?"

"Yeah." I smoothed her hair down her back. "And he's not my boyfriend, Sarah. I don't have a boyfriend. He's a friend."

"Right, a
friend
." Sarah nodded and grinned, and I was shocked to hear teasing in her tone.

For a fleeting moment, I had the old Sarah back. Maybe Mom was right — all Sarah needed was more time.

My phone rang, and I dug for it in my pocket. "Hello?"

"Sally here."

"Hey, Sally. What's up?"

"You still going to the ball?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You haven't heard from Jordan?"

My heart dropped. "No. Why?"

Long pause.

"Sally, what's going on?"

"Er, nothing."

"This isn't funny. You're making me nervous."

Another pause.

"I mean it. What's going on?"

Her breath gushed out. "I thought maybe you heard from Jordan."

"No, he's at school working in the gym. There's a bunch of them putting up the last-minute decorations."

"Why aren't you there?"

"I had to work this afternoon. Besides, I'm not exactly on Janae's good side. I figured it was better if I avoided the whole setup thing."

"Has Margo called?"

My chest prickled with dread. "Is she okay? What's going on?"

"She's fine, and nothing's going on. I got a text from Pamela."

"Jordan's Pamela?"

"The exact same. Seems she might be coming back."

Sally's words hit me like a punch in the stomach. "When? Are you sure?"

"I'm not sure of anything. It's not like Pamela Riggins and I were BFFs. All I know is I got a text saying she might be coming our way soon. To be honest, she was kind of mysterious. I texted her back asking when and why, but didn't get an answer. I thought maybe she'd texted Jordan."

My mind whirled trying to process the news. Was she moving back? Or visiting only? Hadn't Jordan said her dad promised they'd visit? Did Jordan know anything about this?

Numbness seeped into my heart. I sank back to the couch.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
That's what I was. Here I'd been telling everyone Jordan and I were only friends, that this ball thing wasn't a date, and that I didn't like him — not in a dating kind of way.

It was all lies. I liked him — more than I wanted to admit to anyone. More than I wanted to admit to myself. I tilted my head to the side and visualized his soft brown eyes. I saw the hurt on his face when he spoke of Pamela. Then I saw his warm smile when he looked at me, and I remembered the thrilling quiver whenever we touched.

"Emili? You still there?"

"Still here."

"Jordan might not even know. Maybe she's not coming for a month or more. Don't worry, okay? I just thought you should know."

"Right. Thanks, Sally." I closed my phone and looked at my watch. Jordan had texted me earlier saying he'd pick me up at six, since the workers were required to be there early to make sure everything was in order.

I shook my head and looked at the ceiling. Everything was not in order.

Once again, I'd fallen for the wrong guy.

****

I dropped my phone smack in the middle of my perfume bottles. If it so much as buzzed, the bottles would rattle. Every nerve in my body was on alert, and I was certain I wouldn't miss a sound even if the phone whispered. I resisted a strange urge to plug my ears. Part of me dreaded hearing what Jordan might say. If I played deaf, I wouldn't have to know.

The walls were rebuilding around my heart, and I heard every brick that dropped into place. Could I go through this again? Would I have to?

I was getting delusional, but I had to be honest — me in one hand, and Pamela in the other. Weighing us back and forth, I was sure who'd lose.

I grabbed my brush and yanked it through my hair until it gleamed like the new black pumps in Chi Chi's display window. I was going to get ready as if nothing had changed, and I was going to play the princess in the fairy tales I loved as a kid.

I crawled around in the bottom of my closet, where I had seven pairs of shoes all lined up like little soldiers. Sometimes, my neat fetish disgusted me. I grabbed a shoe and threw it to the corner of the closet.
So there.
I tossed every shoe, making sure none of them landed by their mates. Seven pairs of shoes didn't make much of a mess, but it still classified. I sat back on my haunches and surveyed the disarray.

I had one pair of dressy shoes, which were silver flats with shiny sequins sewed around the toe. I pulled them out and placed them on the floor beside me.

I looked at the jumble of shoes. Hating myself, I retrieved every shoe and put each back in place until my small militia was in order again.

Someone knocked on my door. "It's open."

Sarah came in. "Can I watch you get ready?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Will I ever go to a ball?" she asked.

"Of course. Why wouldn't you?"

"Everybody hates me."

I flipped my hair back over my shoulders. "It'll come. You have to be patient." I braced myself for an argument, but she only nodded.

She sat on the edge of my bed and watched me. In my entire life, I'd never taken so long to get ready. Again, I wished for Farah. She would've gotten a thrill out of getting me ready, not to mention she'd make me look better than I ever could. I leaned close to the mirror and fussed with my eye shadow. It was light gray with a swish of dark gray at the top of the lid, and I thought it made me look older and more sophisticated. Choosing the right perfume was easy. It was gardenia tonight, all the way — my absolute favorite.

I glanced at my silent phone, like I'd been doing every thirty seconds. Maybe this whole Pamela thing was a false alarm. Maybe Jordan didn't even know she was coming, or maybe she didn't contact him because they weren't together anymore. I was probably making a big deal out of zippo.

"Sarah, help me get into my dress, will you?"

She took the dress and held it for me to step into, and then she zipped me up. "You look super pretty."

I hugged her to my side, feeling a rush of fondness for her. "You're a good sister, you know."

Her smile broadened, and she laid her head on my shoulder. "Thanks."

I took one last glance in the mirror. I had a sudden urge to show Dad how I looked, but he'd been sleeping all day, and I didn't want to wake him up and start him coughing again. Instead, I went out to the living room.

When Mom saw me, her eyes bugged out and she put the newspaper down. "I thought you were helping at the ball, not going to it. Where did you get the dress?"

"I
am
helping, but it's a ball, so I dressed up. No big deal. I got the dress at Morgy's Thrift Shop."

She stood, walked over to me, and touched the beading on my bodice. "Quite impressive for Morgy's. How are you getting there tonight?"

"Mom, I already told you. Jordan's taking me."

She put her fingers on her chin and nodded. "Ah yes. The nice young man who's been coming over. Do I sense a replacement for Marc? Oh wait, I mean a replacement for Lance?"

"We're only friends," I said, surprised I didn't choke on the words. After watching myself primp and fuss for two hours getting ready for this non-date, it was clear we weren't just friends in my heart.

Crap.

How was I supposed to avoid drama and a big mess if I was falling in love again?

Double crap.

The gravel outside crunched, and I flew to the window.
Jordan.
I grabbed my sweater and reached for the front door.

"Emili!" Mom's voice was strident. "Do not open the door. Have I taught you nothing? You don't rush out the door for a date. You let the young man fetch you properly."

"It's not a date."

"Looks like one to me."

Jordan knocked.

"Now, you may open it."

I rolled my eyes and opened the door. Jordan wore a heavy brown parka over his suit. His hair was slicked back to a sheen. He winked at me and his uneven dimples made my heart pound.

"Emili, you look beautiful." His gaze traveled up and down my dress. Warmth surged through me even in the cold air. "You only have a sweater?"

"My coat would look ridiculous. It's okay, I'm not cold." And I wasn't. I pulled the door shut behind us and put my arm through his.

He stiffened. I jerked my arm back to my side. He stopped and turned to me.

"Sorry," he said. "You surprised me is all." He took my hand in his and tucked it back through his arm, leaving his hand covering mine. A tingling deep inside filled me with wanting. My mouth went dry.

I tipped my head and gazed up at him, but his attention was straightforward. I loved how his silhouette looked in the shadows. My foot caught on a jag in the sidewalk, and I stumbled, squeezing his arm to keep my balance.

"Whoa there, you okay?" He gripped my hand hard.

"Yeah, sorry."

We were at the car door. He reached in front of me to open it, brushing his face across my shoulder. My body tensed as shivers vibrated down my back. He paused, his hand on the car. He turned toward me, and there was a strange expression on his face, as if he'd discovered something important. I swallowed past the dryness.

His eyes searched mine, and I couldn't breathe. I felt my eyes grow wider and wider as he moved closer.

"Emili," he murmured. His breath cascaded over my face. His lips were soft as they whispered against mine in a gentle kiss. I raised my hands and rested them on his shoulders. He leaned in for another kiss, this time longer and deeper. I was shaking. When he pulled away, his face still held the stunned look of discovery.

"Emili," he said again, drawing my name out like a sigh.

My knees went weak and I grabbed the edge of the door. "We better go," I whispered.

He shook his head, frowned, then sprang into action and pulled the car door open. "Of course. We don't want to be late."

Still shaking from his kiss, I slipped into the front seat and felt the cold vinyl through my dress. Neither of us said anything on the drive to school. I kept sneaking glances at him, trying to figure out what he was feeling. His face was closed, though, and I couldn't tell a thing. When we pulled into the school lot, I let myself out before he had a chance to come around and escort me.

Did he know anything about Pamela? Would he have kissed me if he did? Did he like me at least a little?

We walked to the gym, maintaining a measured distance between us, being oh-so-careful not to touch each other. When I passed through the gym door, my mouth fell open. This couldn't be the gym — it was a magical wonderland. The walls were draped with black cloth, and the glittery stars I'd helped cut out were suspended over the entire area. Intimate round tables with votive candles were scattered around the perimeter. In one corner was the photo station where the elaborate sleigh décor was set up. Deep red poinsettias were twisted around the wires of the archway, creating the perfect framing for photos.

The harsh gym lights had been dimmed, giving a warm shadowy feel. The DJ was already there, and soft music washed over the room.

Janae marched over to us, slicing the mood. She wore a long black skirt and a shimmery black tank top. "Good grief, Emili," she said, giving me the once-over. "You're here to work, not to date."

"I know, Janae. Nice to see you, too." I was on edge, and the words came out louder than I intended.

I felt a breeze from behind, so I turned and there was Laine, wearing a white dress that was a dead ringer to mine. Her eyes shot daggers at me, but then she glommed her attention onto Jordan.

"Hello, Jordan," she cooed. "I'm glad you're here. Don't you look handsome tonight?"

"Thanks."

She twirled for him. "Like my dress? I had it sent over from New York."

Jordan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Sure. It's nice."

She glared at me. "I find it amusing how other designers create knock-offs. It's so obvious they're not real. Sad wannabes, don't you think, Emili?"

"Whatever, Laine." I stuck out my chest as far as it would go and pulled my sweater off, draping it over my arm.

She clapped like a kid in elementary school. "Nothing can spoil my mood tonight. There are some real surprises in store." She zeroed in on Jordan. "Heard anything from any old friends lately, Jordan?"