Jamie

My mother took a liking to Jordan and I really didn't blame her. She liked almost all of my girlfriends and boyfriends, not that Jordan was my boyfriend or anything. She liked Gavin the most, but from what I could see, she developed a quick love of Jordan. As far as I was concerned, he was definitely likable and lovable, even after he spit, bit, and kicked me. Jordan and my mother chatted back and forth for awhile. I could only imagine how much he missed his mother.

But, by 3:30, my mother started to fade and a new woman emerged, one Liz and I hardly recognized. The correct term to use was sundowning. That's when people with dementia become more and more confused, sometimes even agitated in the late afternoon and early evening. My mother kept getting up, looking for her car keys because she said she had to go "pick the kids up from school" even though Liz and I were adults. She no longer recognized me as her son or Liz as her daughter. It was a good thing my dad took the car and keys away from her, otherwise she'd be driving around town getting lost and posing a danger to herself and everyone else.

"I have to pick the kids up from school," she said again and again. "I'm late. I have to go."

"The kids are fine," my dad said calmly. "They're taking the bus home today."

"No, I have to go," she said.

"No, you don't," he said again.

"Here," Liz said, holding a spoon of ice-cream in front of her. Liz hid a pill in the ice-cream. Sometimes she'd take it; sometimes she didn't and a battle would rage between my mother and Liz or whoever was trying to get her to take the pill. "Why don't you take Jordan home?" Liz said to me. Things were just about to get worse.

"Yeah," I said. I knew better than to try and kiss or hug my mother goodbye as much as I wanted to. I wondered if Jordan noticed my eyes tear because he reached for my hand as I walked him out of the house while my mother cursed at my dad and Liz inside. While growing up she never swore. She did things and said things she never did before this nasty disease took over. "I'm alright," I assured him even though I wasn't so sure.

"What do you want to listen to?" he asked once in my car.

"You're asking me what I want to listen to?" I asked, genuinely touched by his offer.

"Yeah," he said.

"Okay," I said, scrolling through my songs. "Okay. You're gonna love this." Within seconds, Green Day's American Idiot blasted from the speakers.

"Don't wanna be an American idiot
Don't want a nation under the new media
And can you hear the sound of hysteria?
The subliminal mind-fuck America"

Jordan's smile and head bob told me how much he liked the song. "I like Green Day," he said.

"Should I add them to your play list?" I asked.

"Okay," he said.

By the time we got to the park, people were piling in. For such a small town, there were certainly a lot of spectators and vendors that supported the event. I, too, had fond memories of this event. My parents used to take us, but we never hung around with Tim and Jordan. Tim wouldn't let anyone near him. For all I knew, they hid in the corner of the park in case there was "a freak out."

Jordan knew exactly where he wanted to sit and spread out a blanket. Instead of sitting down and relaxing, he took me around to all the different vendors that hadn't changed much over the past ten to twenty years. He bought a couple of glow and the dark necklaces: one for me and one for him.

"Tim bought me one of those light-up swords once," he said, referring to the vendor with a bucketful of glowy things, all a huge rip-off if you ask me. "The stupid thing broke within a few minutes. I was so angry."

"I bet you were," I said. As we made our way around the park, quite a few people said hi to Jordan. The town seemed to know him. Occasionally he'd wave, but he never said anything in return. He bought popcorn and cotton candy and then gravitated toward the Ritchie Slush vendor. He ordered a "blue one."

"Want one?" he asked me.

"No, thanks," I said, satisfied with my fresh-squeezed lemonade. With his blue slushy, we made our way back to the blanket. Even though the fireworks hadn't started yet, he put his blue headphones on to "block out the noise," he said. Leaning against me, he spoon-fed me some slushy whether I wanted it or not. Once his slushy was done, he relaxed on the blanket, scooting even closer to me, so close he sat between my legs, his back resting against me. We weren't doing anything wrong although a few people shot us some strange looks. I didn't want to move or change positions because I liked Jordan this relaxed, resting in my arms. Over the past couple of weeks, in particular the past few days, I started to realize that maybe he was just craving affection and attention.

All of his weight was against me. I'm in trouble, I thought to myself because I was head over heels for this kid. I was more into Jordan than the fireworks even though they were pretty good for such a small town. He didn't care what anyone thought. He liked where he sat and I liked it, too. With my arms around him, he played with my fingers, tracing each one with his finger. I loved it. For a minute I thought Jordan had fallen asleep against me, but it turned out he was just really comfortable. As soon as the fireworks ended, we continued to sit like that, waiting for the crowd to disperse since everyone seemed to be leaving at the same time.

When we returned to the house, we discovered it quiet and empty because Tim was at his girlfriend's house that he was trying to keep secret for some reason.

"Tim's staying at a friend's house tonight," I said.

"He's at a girl's house," I said. "I'm not stupid."

"No one said you were." In the end Jordan knew all along. He was more perceptive than anyone thought.

Jordan went looking for the special brownies and was disappointed that they were all gone. Tim had cleaned up everything before he left and obviously shared the special brownies with his guests.

"Let's smoke and swim," Jordan said, which sounded like a good idea to me. I wasn't sure which order he was going to do it in. He chose to smoke first. Sitting on the edge of the pool, his legs dangled in the water as he lit up. I sat down beside him. "I think it's going to rain," he observed.

"Maybe," I said, taking the bowl from him. "So, Jordan..."

"Jamie," he said, always responding to his name with mine. It was sort of our thing.

"What do you want to be when you grow up? I mean, when you graduate?"

He shrugged his shoulders, then modestly said, "I took the MCAT in April."

"MCAT? That's to get into medical school, right?"

"Yes," he said. "I need to take a bunch of lab classes, that's why I need to take classes on campus. I may have to do an extra year. My dad said he'll pay for whatever I want...college, grad school, med school, whatever."

"How'd you do on the test? The MCAT, I mean."

"Good. Tim doesn't know I took it, though."

"Didn't he drive you to take the test?"

"He thought it was something for school. I wasn't sure how I'd do and I didn't want him to laugh at me."

"He wouldn't laugh at you," I said, still trying to figure out their strange, sort of co-dependent relationship. "So you want to be a doctor. What kind of doctor?"

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe some kind of surgeon," he said. "I don't know."

"You should tell Tim. He'd be proud."

"He wants me to stay a kid forever," he said. "He's spent most of his life protecting me, making sure no one would send me away. I don't think he'd know what to do with himself if I weren't around." That was probably one of the most insightful statements he'd ever made. "I'm going swimming before it starts to rain." My eyes followed him as he got up to take off his clothes.

I have to do something about this, I thought while admiring his body. I didn't want to go through something like Gavin again, not that I expected Jordan to die. I just hadn't felt anything like this since Gavin. I wouldn't be able to handle another loss. Jordan was too young and so different and he needed someone better or stronger or more with it than I was. Not only that, he was Tim's baby brother and he'd kill me. I started to think that maybe I should leave and sleep on the couch in my parents' townhouse, but then I'd have to see my mother so lost and confused. I didn't want to see her like that, especially since she didn't always recognize me. Besides, their house was so small. I didn't know what to do.

As much as I wanted to, I wasn't sure this was the best time to take off all my clothes to go swimming.

"What's the matter?" he said from the water.

"I don't know if I feel like swimming right now," I said. I had a feeling Jordan wasn't going to take "no" for an answer, swimming toward me. He pushed my knees apart and stood between them.

"Come in," he said.

"No," I said and kicked his shoulder playfully. He retaliated with a splash, leaving me soaking wet. I kicked him again. This time he grabbed my leg in mid-kick and held it tight. Standing against the edge of the pool, he looked up at me. "What?" I said.

He didn't say anything, sliding each hand inside the leg of my shorts, all the way up. Oh no, Jordan...

Just as his hands were about to make contact with my growing hard-on that I couldn't will away, he abruptly backed away and pulled himself out of the pool, plopping down beside me. He was as hard as I was.

"You need to stop," I said.

"Stop what?" he said, playing dumb. By now he knew perfectly well what he was doing.

"I think you know what," I said, looking down his body.

"I can't help it," he said, standing up. "It happens all the time when I'm around you." He gathered up his clothes.

"Jordan..."

"Jamie," he said, climbing down the ladder, his clothes in one arm. I should have let him be. Maybe he was going to jerk off somewhere. But I just couldn't let him be.

But I was wrong, finding him on my bed, sitting in his boxers, playing Green Day's American Idiot for the fifth time that day.

"Well maybe I'm the faggot America
I'm not a part of a redneck agenda
Now everybody do the propaganda
And sing along to the age of paranoia..."

"That's not really a lullaby," I joked. "I'm going to brush my teeth and go to bed. What are you doing?" He shrugged, lying down in my bed. That's what he was doing...sleeping in my bed again.

A/N

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