For Always

by Danielle Sibarium

  After we cleared the kitchen table, cleaned and put away the dishes, we sat around and played cards. Grandpa dealt and won almost every hand of Rummy, Poker, and Twenty-one that we played.

  Grandma accused him of cheating, and they went on to bicker in the fun-loving manner that defined them as a couple. I looked between them and found it amazing, after all these years, I could still see the love and admiration they had for each other in their eyes. As a young child I didn’t understand their constant quarreling. I thought they hated each other.

  Maria came over later in the afternoon and joined in the fun. I showed her the amazing scrapbook my grandmother made while Mom and Grandma sat down to share a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Claiming to miss the hustle and bustle of the city, Grandpa went for a walk.

  Maria and I decided to play a board game. I went to ask my grandmother to join in, but paused just outside the door jamb. Mom stood by the sink, her hands covering her face, her shoulders slumped. Grandma stood next to my mother, her hands on Mom’s shoulders, and I could tell by the intense look on Grandma’s face, she was speaking in her tough, determined manner.

  I couldn’t hear what was being said, but I knew Grandma was being kind, rubbing Mom’s back, making assurances. I backed up, figuring the conversation had to do with my father and how much my mother missed him. She tried hard not to show her pain when it was just the two of us. But I noticed how her eyes watered when she thought of him.

  Tears stung my eyes. My throat closed. I wished I could disappear. I didn’t want them to know I saw any of the brief exchange of sorrow and solace. Making it worse, was the knowledge it was my fault. I was the root cause of the great pain and suffering for us all.

  After dinner, I curled up on the couch with my book. I wasn’t really into it, but I wanted to be alone, which would’ve been rude and deeply regretted once my grandparents left. I didn’t think anyone noticed I hadn’t said much during dinner. Reading, or pretending to, allowed me to wallow in self-loathing, while at the same time not being impolite.

  Around seven thirty, the doorbell rang. The noise startled us. We weren’t expecting anyone. Maria didn’t plan on coming back, because her parents didn’t want her to intrude on us too much. So I had absolutely no idea who it could possibly be.

  After a minute Mom came back inside and spoke to me.

  “Stephanie, there’s a boy outside looking for you.”

  My jaw dropped, my heart leaped.

  “A boy?” I asked in disbelief.

  She nodded.

  A boy. Could it be? Who else would it be? Maybe he changed his mind? Maybe he realized he couldn’t live without me! I took a deep breath, realizing I was setting myself up for a major fall. What if he regretted not looking for me at school and wanted to give me the whole friends speil now?

  I ran my fingers through my hair, certain I looked more like Medusa than me. “Oh no.”

  “Were you expecting him?” Mom asked, a hint of disapproval in her voice.

  I shook my head, “I had no idea. Do I look alright?” I asked terrified of walking out the door.

  “You look beautiful, Dear,” Grandma chimed in.

  Not certain I believed her, I looked back at my mother, she nodded. I grabbed my jacket and threw it on, thrilled I was about to walk through the door and see Jordan. Like he knew I needed to see him, to talk to him.

  “Not too long!” Mom shouted from behind me.

  I floated all the way to the door, excitement building inside me, like boiling water. I felt a smile spread across my face as I pulled the door open.

  “Hi.”

  I swallowed hard, trying desperately not to show how utterly disappointed I felt.

  “Chris. What are you doing here?” I asked astonished.

  How the hell did he know where I lived? I felt a little chill and pulled my jacket tighter around me.

  “Sorry. I hoped to find you sooner.” Was he kidding? “It took me a while to track you down.”

  Okay, this was weird. Was he a stalker?

  “I’m not sure what to say, this is a surprise.”

  He grinned as if he read my thoughts. “I don’t mean to frighten you.”

  “You didn’t.” I snapped back.

  “You’re a bad liar.” He stared into my eyes. “But a beautiful one.”

  I took a small step back and dropped my eyes from his. It didn’t matter how blue his eyes were or how cute he may be, this guy was giving me a major case of the creeps.

  “I didn’t follow you home or break into school records, or anything crazy like that. I just asked around a little if any of my friends knew anything about you.”

  “Why?” It sounded more like an accusation than a question.

  He looked down at the ground and I thought I noticed a little color in his cheeks, but it was hard to tell in the dark.

  “I had fun with you on the bus ride the other day. And I’d like to get to know you better.” He paused. “I wanted to know if you’d like to go out with me.”

  “I can’t. My grandparents are here from out of town.” I answered without a second thought.

  He nodded. “How about next Friday night?”

  “I don’t know.” Why was I even playing along with this? I should’ve just told him I wasn’t interested and said goodnight. “I have to ask my mother.”

  “That’s cool. Either way I’ll see you Monday, right?”

  I narrowed my eyes a minute trying to catch on.

  “On the bus.”

  I nodded. “Yep. On the bus.”

  “Okay. I really hope your mom says yes.” He gave a quick smile and turned to leave.

  He walked down the steps, turned, waved and started walking.

  I expected my mother to be standing at the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the strange boy calling on her daughter. She wasn’t. Shocking. They were all seated at the kitchen table indulging in apple and pumpkin pies. Definitely weird.

  I got back on the couch and picked up my book. I still didn’t understand how Chris found out where I lived. I didn’t know if I should feel flattered or frightened.

  “Someone special?” Grandma sat beside me.

  I looked up from my book and shook my head adamantly. “No. Not at all.”

  Grandma looked at me skeptically, “You should’ve seen how you lit up when your mother told you he was out there. You looked pretty crazy about him.”

  I put my book down. I spoke in a soft voice because I didn’t want Mom to know. I wasn’t exactly sure how she would feel about the whole age thing with Jordan.

  “I thought it was someone else.”

  I could see from her raised eyebrows and sly smile I piqued her interest. Grandma reached over and pulled my foot onto her lap and started rubbing it.

  “Tell me all about him.”

  The idea appealed to me. My foot massage felt wonderful. I felt the tension in my body ease and thought I’d agree to anything right about now. Where was this lady my whole life?

  “Well, that was Chris. I don’t really know him at all. I don’t even know if I like him. But he asked around and found out where I live. Isn’t that weird?”

  Grandma nodded. “Very. But I meant the other boy. The one you’re interested in.”

  I felt my face fill with color. I thought I’d glaze over how we met and all the little things he did that made me think he liked me. But once I got started I went on and on. I described every detail I could, all except what prompted our walk home.

  Grandma listened. Really listened. She didn’t even look judgmental. I felt so comfortable telling her about Jordan, I even slipped with his age. I thought she’d freak, but she took it amazingly well.

  “Give him some time.” She advised. “Your age has him concerned because he respects you.”

  “You think so?” I asked.

  “Why don’t you date this other boy. If not him, someone else. Let Jordan see you’re not waiting around. That might put him into gear.”

  “Or else?”
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  “Or else you might just have to let it be and give him time. You never know what might come in a few years.”

  “A few years?” I asked incredulously. “He’s a senior. I might never see him after June.”

  Grandma patted my leg, “If your feelings are that strong, and you’ve had him on your mind for the last seven months, I think you’ll make it your business to keep in touch with him.”

  Since I didn’t have anything better in mind, I thought I’d give her suggestion a shot. I certainly had nothing to lose.

  I hated seeing my grandparents leave. We shared such an amazing weekend. A cloud of sadness formed in my heart. I didn’t want to lose touch with them again. I didn’t know if it was the move to Florida, or the passing of time since my father’s death, but my grandmother seemed much warmer, softer. I enjoyed the bonding time we had. Grandpa was always wonderful. I was happy nothing about him changed.

  I moped around all day Sunday, missing them. Without them here to distract me, my mind drifted to Jordan. I’d see him Monday. Of that, I was sure.

  Ten

  Monday morning at the bus stop I had the pleasure of introducing Maria to the little group trying to woo me into their ranks. Maria wasn’t used to me breaking out from behind the barriers I’d placed around myself years ago. I was usually more predictable than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

  Chris stood next to me, making corny jokes for my benefit and practically ignored Maria. I couldn’t be sure, but she seemed almost relieved they didn’t look to embrace her with open arms. I felt uneasy and jittery myself.

  I watched them on the bus every morning. This group knew how to make the most of a boring bus ride. They were rambunctious and mocking. Usually they focused their outlandish jabs at each other, which didn’t bother me, but other times, no one and nothing were off limits. This didn’t sit well with me.

  An uneasy feeling came over me every time I watched the boys fire spit balls into a Channel Thirteen tote of a large, homely looking woman, with a thick mustache. She didn’t seem to notice, but still, I felt guilty for never standing up for her.

  One day George “accidentally” bumped into a man wearing a toupee, which ended up half off the unsuspecting man’s head by the end of the exchange. I didn’t have a warm fuzzy feeling about being associated with them.

  When we got to school, Chris offered to walk me to my locker and first period class. I accepted, willing to bet that Maria would go straight to Jordan and tell him about the awful people I befriended while she’d been out.

  We had a few minutes to hang out before the first bell rang. Chris leaned against the locker next to mine.

  “How do I get you to say yes?”

  “To?” I asked, wanting clarification.

  “Going out with me, being my girlfriend, looking like you’re not terrified I’m a serial killer.”

  I smiled breaking the tension.

  “It’s just,” I looked away, nervous he’d laugh in my face, “It makes me uncomfortable when you guys make fun of people.”

  “But George is such an idiot. It’s hard not to make fun of him.” He teased.

  Okay, he had a sense of humor. Beautiful blue eyes and he could make me laugh. I could go on one date with him.

  “I don’t mean George, or your other friends.” I cleared my throat feeling like such a geek. “I mean other people. People you don’t know.” I went on to give him examples.

  He nodded. “I get it. I’ll talk to them.”

  “You will?” I asked in disbelief. Great, that left me open to even more ridicule.

  He smiled. “As long as we can make fun of each other, and you are included in that, I think we can live.”

  “Me?” I felt panic rising.

  “You have to compromise. It can’t be all one-sided.”

  I closed my eyes and held my breath as I contemplated. “Okay, one date.”

  “Whatever you say. I’ll meet you out front at dismissal.”

  The date went well. Chris came to my house to meet my mother. Then we took a cab to the bowling alley. I couldn’t help notice how often a heavy silence fell over us. I found myself looking around, searching for a visual cue, something I could comment on to lead into conversation. Everything felt forced and unnatural. I was relieved after two games, Chris said he’d had enough.

  Once in the cab to take us home, so I thought, the tension came flooding back. Chris had no intention of ending the date so soon. Instead we went to George’s house. He and Lydia were in his basement, along with some other people I didn’t know. They were all just hanging out playing video games. Chris promised we wouldn’t stay too long, especially since I had to be home at eleven.

  I tried to stay close to the stairs. It wasn’t like I thought they’d hold me against my will, but I wanted a clear path if I felt the need for a quick getaway. Chris walked away and left me alone for a couple of minutes. He claimed he needed to go talk to someone.

  Thinking of him as my only ally in hostile territory, I kept an eye on Chris through a haze of smoke. He took a seat in a dark corner of the room, next to a guy I didn’t recognize, with a slutty looking girl glued to his lap. I felt really out of place. I glanced around trying to find someplace, less awkward, to put myself. I noticed an abundance of beer cans on the floor. At that moment I heard George call to me.

  “Hey, Stephanie, want a beer?” He held up a can of Coors Light.

  I shook my head, “No thank you.”

  George burst into laughter. “A real goody two shoes this one.”

  Lydia began to sing, “Don’t drink, don’t smoke, what do you do?”

  Chris returned to my side, and put his arm around me protectively, “Back off.”

  Just like that, they did.

  We walked up my front steps at five to eleven. Chris and I hung out on my stoop for a little while, talking some more. I wouldn’t have minded if he left, but I could tell he wanted to stay. I felt knots forming in my stomach, as he inched closer to me. He took my hand in his.

  I didn’t want this to happen. It was all wrong. He was going to kiss me, and all I could do was wish he were Jordan. I figured since I was going to hell anyway, this would barely bleep on the radar compared to my other much larger transgression.

  Almost another full week went by before I spoke to Jordan. I’d seen him in the halls on the way to class and waved, but I was too cowardly to talk to him. He didn’t look happy when he saw me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because I wasn’t stopping at his locker in the morning, or because I made it a point to wave in the hall.

  My breath caught in my throat as I got to my last class and found Jordan standing by the door, waiting for me.

  “Hi,” I felt a strange combination of excitement and apprehension.

  “Want a ride home?”

  “I’d love to but . . .” I swallowed hard trying to find my voice, “I have other plans.”

  “Oh.” He looked away, “Some other time.” It only took him an instant to disappear into the crowd. And then it was too late to change my mind.

  Ugh! I wanted to kick myself. Why the hell would I not just ditch Chris, and his halfway house gang, and go with Jordan? Simple. I knew I wouldn’t see Chris before dismissal and he’d be pissed if I just blew him off. I didn’t want to end up on the transportation hit list.

  The bus ride dragged. I must have been more quiet than usual because each of my new acquaintances (I still had a hard time calling them friends) asked if I was alright. How could I explain to them one very poor lapse of judgment may have just foreshadowed the course of my entire high school existence?

  Especially, since they were the cause of my consternation. Them, and Chris’ hand high up on my thigh. He wasn’t moving it or doing anything obnoxious, but it made me nervous. I didn’t like the implication. I belonged to him.

  I told Chris my mother and I had plans for the weekend. I needed some time away from him and his crew. I needed to figure out what I was doing and why it felt so
wrong.

  “Are you seeing anyone else?” he asked, his face hard and stone-like.

  “No.”

  “You better not be.”

  My stomach twisted and knotted. A chill ran up my spine. This was so not good. I wanted out. Now. Before things got worse. I just needed to figure out exactly what to say to him so we could part in an amiable way.

  Eleven

  On Saturday morning I decided to lie around in pajamas and watch television. Not like there was anything particularly good on, but it was a good time to catch up with what was on the DVR.

  Mom went grocery shopping. She didn’t need much, so my staying home wasn’t a problem. I knew once she got home I’d be relegated to unpack the car.

  I heard the keys jingle in the lock and paused the show I’d been watching.

  “Stephanie!” Mom called annoyed. “What are you still doing in your pajamas?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll just throw my coat on over them.”

  “Rethink,” Mom retorted before I could get out the door. “Someone is waiting for you outside. He’s talking to Maria.”

  I let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I told Chris I couldn’t see him.”

  She shook her head. “Not Chris. Some strange boy with long hair. I swear I thought it was a girl from behind.”

  “Huh?” My mind was muddled. “I don’t know anyone who looks like that.”

  “He says his name is Jordan.”

  The wild excitement bursting through my veins had me jumping for joy. I didn’t need to tell my mother anything more about my feelings for Jordan than that.

  “Jordan! He’s here? Outside?”

  Mom nodded.

  “Omigod! I need to get dressed.” I ran toward the stairs and paused. “Maybe I should stick my head outside and tell him to wait a few minutes.”

  “Get dressed. He says he’s been waiting for half an hour.”

  I took the steps two at a time, threw on a pair of jeans and a warm sweater. I ran a brush through my hair, splashed some water over my face, all the while feeling my insides bounce around like I was on a bungee jumping ride. I took a few breaths before opening the front door, hoping to return my heartbeat to normal.