Jamie

My eyes lingered at the sliding doors even after Jordan was no longer there. The two of just spent over an hour together yet I couldn't wait to be with him again. He did things to me I never expected him to do.

"Are you sure it's okay if I stay?" I said. "I could leave, you know, see if Liz would let me stay with her." Liz lived in a small one bedroom apartment and more or less worked from home as a freelance writer. She also happened to be super OCD, so I doubted she'd be too thrilled with me disrupting both her work and living environment.

"You don't have to leave," Tim said. "Jordan's gotten used to you."

"Yes, I guess he has," I said, my insides burning thinking about him. Tim's eyes stayed on me for a few seconds, making me a little uneasy. Although he didn't outwardly say anything, I started to suspect that maybe Tim was on to us, that he slowly realized we were more than friends. Maybe he was even okay with it, forgetting about the initial warning he gave me about "getting any ideas about him." And then I thought that maybe Tim was too distracted by his father's presence in the house to care whether or not I was fucking his younger brother. Either way, I left it up to Jordan to have that "talk" with him. It wasn't my place. Even if Tim were to say anything to me, I'd refer him to Jordan.

"How'd you get him out, anyway?" Tim asked me.

"I told him to get out," I said.

"And he did? Just like that?" Tim said.

"Yes, just like that," I said.

"And what'd you do after?" Tim asked as if he were digging for information, perhaps to confirm his suspicions.

"We went for a walk," I said, hoping my face wasn't too red. "And then we talked."

Sighing loudly, Art stood up, obviously bored with this conversation. He also preferred to avoid any conversation pertaining to Jordan.

"I'm going to bed," he announced, walking toward the door. "Talked," he said with a laugh. "I bet you talked," he said, stepping into the house, not looking back at us.

Tim reached for the pitcher of sangria and poured himself a great big glass of it. "Fuck you, Art," he muttered to himself. He then poured me a glass even though I didn't ask for one.

"This fucking sucks," he said. "He always does this. He shows up unannounced only because this is his house. I wish he'd just sell it and let me buy it. He only has something to do with us when it's convenient for him. He fucking abandoned Jordan. He left me to raise him." I always knew when Tim was really angry when every other word out of his mouth was the f-word. "He's the one who fucking told me to go to court to get fucking guardianship of Jordan when our mother finally lost it. He didn't have the time, he said. He didn't have the time to raise his own son. I mean, I've always been on my own. I raised myself. He could have gotten a job here like me. That's what everyone expected me to do because I'm the mature, responsible one. He's a fucking pathetic excuse of a father, that's what he is. I fucking hate his fucking guts. Where was he all those times Jordan was suspended from school? All those times he cried because he didn't have any friends? I think you're his first friend that I know of. That fucker never saw how shitty he felt after each blow up incident and there were lots of them, believe me. Art didn't have to deal with any of it. He wasn't fucking there when Jordan said he hoped he'd go to sleep and never wake up. He didn't have to listen to any of that. Oh fuck...fuck him..."

"Did Jordan say that more than once?" I asked, remembering when Jordan said that to me a few weeks ago.

"Yes," Tim said, filling his glass with more sangria. "All the time. I was really worried about him. And when I tried to talk to him, to try and talk to that ass hole, his response was to send Jordan to a special school. There's lots of residential schools for kids like him, he said. That was his answer for everything. I'm telling you, he's not like our mother. I'm not putting him in some group home when he lives in a house like this, when I'm here for him. It would fucking destroy him. You know that, right? He loves this house. He's doing better, don't you think?"

I wasn't sure what to say because I had nothing to compare it to. I hadn't known Jordan as an adult for very long. I barely knew him as a little kid.

"I know he loves this house," I said. "I can't see him leaving it...this beautiful countryside...well, everything...I love it here, too."

"Yeah..." Tim said, proceeding to take a big sip of his sangria. "Jordan can't handle this. He falls apart whenever that ass hole is home. Jordan will go weeks without saying a word. I'm surprised he said anything at all just now." As he took another sip, his eyes roamed away from mine, expecting Jordan there any minute.

"He's really an amazing kid," I said. I didn't mean to say "kid;" it just slipped out.

"You don't have to tell me that," he said. "I already know. Not many people get the chance to find out."

Tim knew Jordan so well that he was correct to anticipate Jordan's re-emergence outside, freshly showered and wearing a clean pair of shorts, no shirt and no shoes or socks. He held a microwave bowl of Kraft macaroni and cheese. I realized he hadn't had dinner with Tim and Art because he was too busy sulking in the pond...and then after the most recent events between us, I was sure he was starving.

"I took a shower," he said to me, proud of himself as he sat down beside me. "Happy?"

"Yes," I said. "That pond's disgusting."

"Are you going to take a shower?" he asked in-between mouthfuls of macaroni and cheese. "You're really sweaty and kind of stinky."

"You're so obnoxious," Tim laughed.

"Want some?" Jordan asked, referring to his  macaroni and cheese. Before I answered, he spooned some macaroni and cheese into my mouth.

"I want to see Kelly, but I won't if you don't want me to, not when Art is here," Tim said, seemingly not bothered by Jordan 's flirting with me. His speech was a little slurry, so I really hoped he didn't intend on driving.

"You want to see her tonight?" Jordan said.

"Yes," Tim said.

"You're not driving anywhere," I said. "Not after you've smoked and drunk half the pitcher of sangria. Why doesn't she come over? You can sneak her in and out like some teenager afraid to get caught by his old man."

"Oh fuck," he said, slightly inebriated, pulling at his hair, which was one of Jordan's habits, too, when he was stressed. "I want to get out of here. I'm going to go crazy. I've been stuck with him all afternoon. Thanks a lot, Jordie."

"Shut up, Timmie," he said. Tim took another big sip of his sangria, actually finishing off his glass.

"I...uh...I think I'll go to bed instead," he said, standing up, a little wobbly. "You're right. I can't drive." He staggered to the sliding door. "I...yeah...good-night." Tim disappeared inside.

"Should I go with him?" I said. "To make sure he gets up the stairs?"

"No, he'll manage," Jordan said. "This happens whenever he has a couple of drinks."

"Would you have cared if he went to see Kelly tonight?" I asked, combing my fingers through his curls.

"No, I don't think so," he said. "But it would have sucked to be alone in the house with Art if you weren't here."

"He's in love with her, you know," I said.

"I know," he sighed.

"Don't fuck this up for him," I said. "Look at me, Jordan." With an exaggerated sigh and a roll of his eyes, he looked at me. "I mean it, Jordan. Do not fuck this up for him. Be a man and deal with it." He kissed me instead of saying anything or even acknowledging what I said. "You're such a brat," I said against his lips. "Wanna go swimming? Clothing is optional."

"I already took a shower," he said, breaking away to have another bite of his macaroni and cheese. "Take a shower, then meet in my room."

Jordan went straight to his room while he directed me to the shower. I guess I must have smelled really bad for him to be so insistent on me taking a shower.

***

As I entered Jordan's room, I found the air mattress beside his bed, all done up with sheets and everything. Jordan sat cross legged on his bed, looking as cute as ever. He surprised me by getting the bed ready for me, which was totally unexpected.

"Thanks for getting my bed ready," I said.

"I can sleep on the air mattress if you want," he said. "I mean, if you'd feel more comfortable in my bed..."

"Because I'm an old man, right?"

"You're not an old man," he said. "I don't want to be selfish. Am I selfish?"

"Are you selfish?" I said, sitting on the bed beside him. "No, no, you're not selfish. Well, maybe you're a little ego-centric."

"Ego-centric? What does that mean?"

"You sometimes think everything is about you," I said. "But you're still growing up. Forget I said it," I said, noticing the hurt in his eyes. I implied he was still a kid and he didn't like that. "You know I think this air mattress is big enough for the both of us," I said, quick to change the subject. "What do you think?"

"I think you're right," he said and plopped himself down on the air mattress. He pulled me down with him, obviously not too upset with my ego-centric comments.

"I love you," he said, throwing his arms around me.

"You're not mad at me for what I said?"

"No," he said.

"You are growing up," I said, pulling my towel loose. "You know I love you, too."

He pushed his shorts off him and sat on my lap with his legs around my waist. Hugging me to him, he pressed his lips against my neck. He squeezed me tightly.

"Jordan," I said, pushing him away.

"Jamie," he said as I held his face in my hands.

"You're amazing," I said as I brought my lips to his. "Amazing," that's all I could say.

"Yeah, yeah, so are you," he said. He was new to giving compliments, that much I could tell, which made them all the more special.

As we kissed, he hummed a song against my lips. Within seconds, I realizing he was humming the Cure. He abruptly stopped, reached for his phone on the floor and turned on Just Like Heaven.

"I don't want to wake up Tim," I said.

"He's passed out," Jordan said.

"What about your dad?" I said. "I mean, Art."

"I don't care about Art," he said.

"I love this song," I said in his ear.

"Yeah," he said distantly, pushing down on me while still singing to the song.

"Spinning on that dizzy edge," he sang.
I kissed his face and kissed his head
And dreamed of all the different ways I had
To make him glow
Why are you so far away? he said
Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you...

"That I'm in love with you," I sang with him. I didn't care that this song and this line, in particular, were cheesy and corny. I knew this feeling wouldn't last forever. And I feared that this thing with Jordan wouldn't last forever and that scared me. I didn't want it to be just a summer fling.

After taking turns on and off throughout the night, Jordan fell asleep beside me, as close as he could get to me, his legs draped over mine. Life can't get any better than this, I thought, Jordan sleeping soundly and breathing heavily against my neck.

A/N

Thank you everyone for reading and voting! I anticipate five or so more chapters. Interesting things will happen.

Thanks again for reading!