Jordan

Tim and I sat at the porch table to have a so-called serious conversation about me and whether or not I was going to Oxford. Tim was going to do most of the talking since I found it nearly impossible to talk to him face to face.

"What do you mean you're not going?" Art said to me after Tim shared my decision with him. Art led me to believe I didn't have a choice, but Tim said I did.

"Just what I said," Tim said. "He's not going. He'd like to stay and finish his education here."

"That...that's just ludicrous," Art said. I couldn't stand it and looked down at the table, unable to make any kind of eye contact with anyone. Jamie was out somewhere. This was a family discussion and I was sure he didn't want to be anywhere near this conversation. 

"You made all these decisions without asking him," Tim said. "I told you..."

"You need to let him go," Art said, raising his voice. "He's almost twenty years old. When are you going to stop babying him? You're letting him throw this wonderful opportunity away and..." I hated this. I really hated arguments and uncomfortable conversations, especially ones about me. With my knee bouncing up and down, I nervously pulled at my hair.

"This isn't about me," he said. "It's about Jordan and what he wants, but you have no idea what he wants because you never asked him."

"Because the kid doesn't speak and it's because you baby him. It's not normal to act like this."

"If you'd been around, you'd know he's not normal. No, wait, you do know because you wanted to send him to some residential school, a group home like Mom's."

"Are we talking about this again?"

"Because it's true," Tim went on. "You were never there. That's why I became his guardian, which was your suggestion, remember? And just so you know, he does speak. You e heard him. He just doesn't speak to you. Instead you send him text messages."

"It seems like that's the only way to communicate with him." Art turned his attention to me as if he wanted to say something. "I thought you wanted to live on campus."

I couldn't look at him. Instead, I stayed focus on the table, pulling at my hair. I really, really needed a hair cut.

"Sure, campus here," Tim said. "Not abroad."

"How would you really know, huh?" Art said. "You think you know what he wants? You've been speaking for him his entire life, no wonder he's the way he is."

"Now you wait a minute," Tim said. I couldn't take it anymore. Jumping to my feet, I bolted out of there and right into the woods, straight to the pond. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I was tired of people talking about me, fighting over me. I didn't want to go away. I wasn't even sure about living on campus. What if I had a freak out? What then? I couldn't handle anything at the moment and Jamie was leaving soon and...and...too many changes all at once.

With a frog in my hand, I sat on a log, soaking wet. Even though it was still August, I could smell fall in the air. Jamie would be gone soon and I'd be alone again. Maybe that's the way things should be. After awhile, I let the frog go free and got up, but I didn't head back to the house;,I headed to the field of sunflowers. They were bigger than ever so it was easy for me to get lost in them. I must have fallen asleep out there because it was dark when I opened my eyes. Fortunately I had my phone with me so I could use the flashlight to get back to the house.

"Where the hell have you been?" Tim demanded as I entered the house. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

I didn't want to talk, so I went straight to the bathroom to take a shower. Jamie still wasn't back. Freshly showered and in a clean pair of boxers, I went back downstairs and waited for him in the living room. Tim was there, too, but I didn't say anything to him, listening to my music.

Jamie suggested I listen to the White Stripes so this song, Seven Nation Army played. I turned it up loud so I didn't have to listen to Tim. Even though I didn't want him to, he came over to me and removed the headphones from my ears. The music blasted through the headphones.

"The White Stripes, huh?" he said. "Jamie's influence?" I didn't want to talk; I wanted Jamie. "You know Jamie's leaving in a week." Why did he have to remind me? "Are you sure you don't want to go to England?" I didn't want to talk about England anymore. I had made up my mind. He was coming back in ten months, anyway. That's what I kept telling myself. If I went to Oxford, I'd be stuck there for four years. I wanted to finish off the school year here, at home, get my Bachelor's of Science degree, then go to medical school or somewhere else if I wanted to. I was competent enough to make my own decisions. Everyone needed to back off.

"He'll be back in ten months," I finally said. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Art's really pissed about it," Tim went on.

"I don't care."

Although I heard a car door open and close outside, I didn't get up, not wanting to seem so desperate and pathetic so I continued to sit on the couch with my knees to my chest. Tim still had my headphones and put them on his head to tease me. He did it even though he knew I hated to be teased. He did it to get back at me for disappearing for a couple of hours.

"What's going on in here?" Jamie said. I wasn't in the mood for talking.

"He disappeared for hours," Tim said. "I almost called the police."

"I fell asleep, alright?" I snapped at him.

"Where? I looked everywhere," he said.

"Somewhere where I wouldn't be found," I said. Jamie sat down beside me on the couch.

"Why didn't you want to be found?" Jamie asked.

"He knows why," I said, referring to Tim.

"The conversation is over. It's done," Tim said. "He'll be gone soon and we probably won't see him again for another six months or so." I really just hoped that Art would have accepted my decision; that he'd just accept me as his son, the son he really never even knew. He barely knew Tim for that matter, but Tim was older and he could at least talk to him. I was useless, only communicating to him via text or email. Now I was sure he'd refer to me as the dumb kid who missed out on something really great, maybe even a chance of a lifetime. Maybe I'd be ready for something like that ten years from now. Maybe.

Jamie brought his arm around me while I looked away from both of them.

"I have something for you," Jamie said. "Well, it's actually from my dad and he can't go, so he gave them to me."

From the back of Jamie's back jeans pocket, he pulled out what looked to be a pair of tickets. As he flashed them in front of me, I realized they were a pair of Red Sox tickets.

"I've never been to Fenway," I said. "Have you?"

"Yeah, lots of times," Jamie said.

"You're taking him to a Red Sox game at Fenway Park?" Tim said as surprised as I was.

"Yeah, cool, huh? And it's against the Yankees, too." Tim removed his glasses and rubbed his temple with his fingers as if he had a headache brewing.

"What? You don't think I should go, right?" I said.

"I don't know," Tim said. "I've been to Fenway. It's small and crowded...really crowded...and it can be loud...really loud and crowded. The seats are tiny and..."

"Shut up, Tim," I said. "I'm going and I don't care what you say. I always wanted to go."

"He'll be alright," Jamie said. "He was okay at the club and that place was crowded. If it gets too much, we'll leave."

Tim looked at me in that look of his; a look of worry and disapproval.

"I'm going and I don't care what you say," I said. "You don't think I can do anything." Like a little kid having a temper tantrum, I snatched my headphones back and stormed up the stairs. Once in my room, I threw myself on my bed, hiding under the covers. A few minutes later my bedroom door opened. It better not be Tim...I remained hidden under the blankets.

"Stop being a brat," Jamie said. "He didn't say you couldn't go. You can be such a drama queen." Sticking my hand out from under the blanket, I shot him the middle finger. "Well, that's mature," he said. "I want to go swimming. Come on, let's go. I won't have many more chances." I wasn't sure I was in the mood to go swimming. "Well, I'm going. You can be a brat and stay here if you want, but I'm going. Tim's gone to bed. He's never going to stop worrying about you. Are you coming or not?" I didn't answer. "Fine. See ya." And he left without me. The stupid jerk actually left without me. He didn't care that I was upset.

After a few seconds, I realized Jamie didn't tolerate my immaturity or overreactions to things.

Swimming. We hadn't swum alone together in awhile. I threw the blankets off me and ran down the stairs and outside to the pool.

Jamie's clothes lay in a heap on the deck. I knew there'd only be a few more summer nights like this and I didn't want to be a brat, sulking upstairs in my room under the covers.

"What took you so long?" he said. I didn't say anything as I took off my shorts. Jamie watched me the whole time. Naked, I sat on the edge of the pool, letting my legs dangle in the water. Jamie walked up to me and stood between my legs like he had done so many times before.

"Come in," he said, holding onto my thighs. I just stared down at him, not moving. I knew how lucky I was to have met him, to have fallen in love with him, to have fallen in love at all. Falling in love was never something I thought about. Jamie changed everything. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," I lied.

"Liar," he said and kissed each thigh. I scooted forward, inhaling as he kissed me between my legs. I didn't deserve this after the way I'd been acting.

He took me all the way in his mouth, then released me. With a smile, he swam away.

As soon as I jumped in, I went after him, pushing him against the opposite side of the pool. Standing close to him, I rubbed my front against his backside with my arms around him. I bit the back of his shoulder playfully, then dunked myself under the water, swimming away from him. I swam best under water.

He caught up to me, though, pulling my legs, bringing me under the water again. As I bobbed back up, he tucked his hands under my butt while I wrapped my legs around his thighs. Nearly simultaneously, we brought our lips together.

"I don't want you to go," I said in-between kisses. "I don't want you..." Catching myself by surprise, I broke down in tears. Ashamed, I buried my face in his neck.

"I know," he said, holding me tight. "I won't be gone forever. I promised you, remember?" Recalling the promissory not, I nodded against his neck.

"I love you," I said as stupid tears poured out of me.

"I love you, too," he said. "It's going to be okay. I promise, okay? It'll be okay."