“Hi,” I say, not moving from my computer chair. She sits down on my bed and looks at me expectantly. Things with Courtney and I have not been the same since we got back from Miami. I’ve been slightly avoidant of her, and she’s been standoffish with me, too. Once I didn’t say “I love you” back to her, and once she made it clear she was ready to sleep with me and I didn’t act on it, it’s been awkward between us.
“Listen,” she says. “I don’t know what’s going on with us, but I’m starting to feel really horrible about it.” She bites her lip, and I look away from her. If I have to look at her, I’m not going to be able to do this. And it needs to be done.
“I don’t want you to feel horrible, Court,” I say truthfully. “And I don’t want things to be weird between us.”
“I’m sorry about Miami,” she says. “I shouldn’t have put pressure on you to have sex with me, and I shouldn’t have told you I love you. I’m just…I just…I just got caught up in the moment, and I’m sorry.”
I want so badly to take her in my arms and tell her it’s okay, that I love her, too, but I can’t. I look away, and don’t say anything.
“But it doesn’t have to change anything,” she rushes on. “It’s not a big deal. I mean, I don’t need you to feel that way about me. Everything can go back to the way it was before, it doesn’t have to be different. It doesn’t have to change.”
“It does change things, though, Courtney,” I say, still not looking at her. “It does.”
“It only does if we decide it does,” she says. A note of worry has crept into her voice, like she knows this is something that can’t be fixed, but it’s for a different reason than she thinks, and it’s killing me. “It doesn’t matter to me, Jordan, really. I just want to go back to the way things were before.”
“I can’t,” I say simply. “Courtney, on the beach I realized that I don’t want to be tied down right now. I want to be able to be young and date other people.” Oh, my God. I sound like a really old, annoying uncle who’s trying to convince someone they should date while they can.
“You want to date other people?” she asks, her voice cracking a little bit.
“I’m not a relationship person,” I say, shrugging. I still can’t look at her, because I know if I do, I’ll lose it.
There’s a moment of silence, a pause, and I expect her to start screaming, or maybe to beg me to change my mind, or to start crying or something. But instead, she gets up from my bed and walks out my door. In a way, it’s almost worse than a big scene. Because now she’s probably never going to want to talk to me again. I wait until I hear the front door of my house shut before I give into it and start to cry.
the trip jordan
Day Two, 8:03 p.m.
“Where’s Courtney?” I ask when Lloyd opens the door, not bothering with any pleasantries. I knew I was going to get into a fight with Lloyd at some point on this trip. It was inevitable. I thought maybe I’d be able to avoid it if I didn’t see him, but now, when he answers the door to his room with a shit-eating grin on his face, I want to rip it off. His face, I mean.
“Well, well, well,” Lloyd says, leaning against the door frame. “What’s up, Jordy?” Lloyd is such a tool that he actually sometimes thinks he’s cooler than me. Which is ridiculous. Especially since he’s wearing a polo shirt. You cannot be cooler than anyone, especially not me, when you’re wearing a polo shirt.
“Where’s Courtney?” I repeat.
“Why?” he asks suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. “If you’re here to do one of those last-minute things where you rush in and save her, you’re a little too late.” He smiles. He actually fucking smiles at me. I’m done with this dude.
I push him out of the way and walk right into his room. She’s not there.
“She’s not here,” I say.
“Good work, Captain Obvious,” he says. He crosses the room and sits down at his desk.
“Where. Is. She?” I ask. I wonder what will happen if I punch him. I’m so pissed off at everyone right now, the thought of getting into a fight with Lloyd actually scares me. I don’t know if I could stop at just punching him. We’d probably get into it pretty good, and campus security would come and arrest me.
“I don’t know,” Lloyd says, shrugging. “I assume she’s out looking for you.”
“Why would she be out looking for me?”
“Because she left, and since she doesn’t know anyone else here, I would assume she’s looking for you,” he says, rolling his eyes. Is this kid for real?
“You just let her leave?” I ask. “Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “She freaked out a little bit, and I figured she needed her space.”
“You’re an asshole,” I say, pushing past him and outside. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and dial her number, but she’s not answering. Fuck. Where would she go? I head back toward the truck and dial her cell phone number on the way, hoping maybe she’s turned it back on.
And then suddenly, I see her. She’s sitting on a bench near where I parked my car. She’s holding her cell phone in her hand, just looking at it. Which is weird, because I’m trying to call her. Her cell phone is ringing in her hand, and she’s just ignoring it.
“Court!” I yell. I start walking toward her and she looks up. Her blue eyes meet mine, and suddenly, I stop. Because I can tell she knows.
“Hey,” I say, walking toward her. She looks up, and the look she gives me is horrible. There are tears in her eyes. “Courtney,” I say. “Let me explain.”
“Let you explain?” She throws her head back and laughs at the absurdity of it. “Yeah, great, this should be interesting. Go ahead and explain.”
“I didn’t do it to lie to you,” I say. “I wanted to protect you. I didn’t know it was your dad, I didn’t—”
“Great job of protecting me, Jordan,” she says, cutting me off. “Do I look like you spared my feelings?” She picks up her bag and slings it over her shoulder, like she’s going to leave. I reach up and grab her arm.
“Don’t touch me!” she says, wrenching away from me.
“Court, please, listen—” I start to say.
“No,” she says, standing up. “I’m done.”
She starts walking away.
“Court!” I yell after her. “Where are you going?”
But she doesn’t answer.
jordan before
13 Days Before the Trip, 3:30 p.m.
I’m walking out of the mall when I see Courtney’s dad walking in. I try to get out of the way to avoid him, but he’s already seen me, and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me turn around.
“Mr. Brewster!” I say cheerfully.
“Jordan,” he says, nodding at me. “Looks like you’ve had a successful trip to the mall.” The way he says it implies I’ve been on a silly little shopping trip, while he’s been hard at work all day. Which is probably true. I’ve been in Abercrombie for more than an hour, and I’ve spent over four hundred dollars. All on my mom’s credit card. Serves her right.
“I have had a successful trip,” I agree.
“Abercrombie,” he says, reading it off the bag in the same tone he used before. Sue me if I need retail therapy. This whole Courtney breakup is driving me insane, and shopping makes me feel better. I’m turning into a girl. Plus I love the feeling I get when my mom’s credit card runs through the machine.
“Yup,” I say. “You look like you could use a trip there yourself.” It’s meant to be an insult, like he has no sense of fashion, but he doesn’t get it.
“Oh, not today,” he says. “I’m here to upgrade my cell phone plan, and then I have to get back to the office.”
“Good for you,” I say, resisting the urge to hit him. “Good luck with that.” I move past him into the parking lot, but he calls after me.
“I heard you and Courtney broke up,” he says. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’m sure you are,” I say sarcastically.
/>
“Now, Jordan, that’s not fair. I never wanted to cause you or Courtney any pain.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I lie. “Courtney and I didn’t break up because of you. We broke up because I met someone else.” The last thing I want is to give Courtney’s dad the satisfaction of thinking he broke the two of us up. Besides, this whole breakup with Courtney has spun out of control—I’ve made up a new girlfriend. A fake girlfriend, someone I supposedly met on MySpace. I got sick of everyone asking why we broke up, and I figured having a fake girlfriend is a better reason than “I don’t know.” Plus, it helps me when I get tempted to call Courtney and beg her to take me back.
“Well, that’s great,” Mr. Brewster says. He looks at his watch and glances over my shoulder into the mall. “I should get going.”
“Sure,” I say. Asshole.
“I hope it won’t be that big of a deal to you to drive to school without Courtney. Perhaps your new girlfriend could make the trip with you? It’s an awful long way to go alone.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, frowning. Court and I had planned to drive up to Boston together for school, and I figured it was still on. Actually, that’s not true. I was hoping it was still on, but I was afraid to approach her about it since a) she won’t talk to me, and b) if I brought it up, she might tell me it’s canceled.
“Well, I assumed you wouldn’t still be going on the trip. I haven’t talked to Courtney about it yet, but—”
“Oh, no,” I say. “We’re still going.”
“Really?” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Does Courtney know this?”
“I haven’t talked to her,” I say. “But we’re going.” Suddenly I realize just how badly I want to go on this trip. That it could be my last chance to spend time with Courtney. And that since it’s already planned, it won’t look that suspicious if we still go.
“Jordan, I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” he says. “Courtney’s already going through a lot with the breakup and—”
“We’re going,” I say. “You’ll tell her she’s still going. And if you don’t, well…” I trail off, and I see a flash of panic cross his face. Because now that Courtney and I are broken up, he has no power over me. I could tell her everything if I wanted to. And with that, I turn around, head to my car, and drive home with my four hundred dollars’ worth of Abercrombie merchandise in the trunk and the Beastie Boys on the radio.
courtney before
13 Days Before the Trip, 6:00 p.m.
“They’re fucking making me go!” I scream into the phone. As a rule, I don’t usually say the f-word, but this definitely warrants it.
“Um, okay,” Jocelyn says, sounding confused. “You want to back up a little bit?”
“No, not really,” I say. I throw myself down on my bed and reach over and crank up the AC that’s in my window. I like my room frigid. My parents are always complaining about the electricity bill, but whatever. If they’re going to make me suffer, I can totally make them suffer right back.
“Then I can’t help you,” Jocelyn says simply. I hear voices in the background.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“At the beach,” she says. “With B. J. You wanna come down?”
“No thank you,” I say. Why, why, why would my parents do something like this? Why would they make me still go on this trip? I can kind of understand it from my mom, but my dad? He hates Jordan! I even offered to pay for the plane ticket myself, out of my graduation money, but nooo. The irony of all this is that B. J. and Jocelyn, who should be the poster children for dysfunctional relationships, are going strong. They’re hanging out, cuddling, probably having sex on a beach, while Jordan and I, who NEVER EVEN FOUGHT, are done.
“So what are your parents making you do?” Jocelyn asks.
“They’re making me go on the trip with Jordan! They said it’s too late to get a ticket, and that I need to learn to take responsibility for my actions, and since I planned this trip, I should go.” Saying the words out loud makes me so mad that I start punching the up button on the air conditioner, even though it’s already as high as it can go.
“Are you serious?” Jocelyn says. “Courtney, I’m so sorry.”
“We’ll probably end up killing each other,” I say, still hitting the air conditioner. Bang. Bang. My finger is starting to get a little sore, but for some reason, it’s making me feel better. Maybe just because no more cool air is coming out doesn’t mean the power isn’t going up, therefore making the electricity bill get higher, therefore screwing my parents over.
“Yeah,” Jocelyn says. “You probably will.”
“Thanks a lot,” I say. “I can’t believe they would do something like this to me. I’m only seventeen! Since when am I supposed to take responsibility for my actions?”
“I dunno,” Jocelyn says. “It sucks, but hey, you’ll probably learn a lot.”
“Learn a lot!” I shriek, abandoning the air conditioner and burying my head in my pillow. “Don’t get all deep on me now, Jocelyn.”
“I’m just saying,” she says. “Usually the hard stuff you’re forced to do makes you learn a lot.”
“I don’t want to learn a lot,” I say. “I already know enough.”
“Sometimes you don’t have a choice,” Jocelyn says, and there’s something in her tone of voice that makes me uncomfortable.
the trip courtney
Day Two, 8:45 p.m.
I have never been so pissed off in my life. My heart is pumping at three million beats a second, and I’m consumed with rage.
And right now, I’m taking it out on the guy at the front desk of the Bellevue Motel who’s trying to tell me you can’t check in unless you have I.D. stating you’re eighteen.
“But I just told you,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “My I.D. was stolen. All I have is the cash I just happen to have in my pocket, which I can use to pay for the room.” I wave around the emergency money my dad gave me just in case something went wrong on the trip. If this doesn’t constitute something going wrong, I don’t know what does.
“I understand that, ma’am,” he says. “But it’s motel policy.”
“Well, that’s just great!” I screech like some kind of crazy person. “I’ll just sleep outside then, while I wait for my family to come get me. And while I’m out there, I’ll call up some local newspeople and tell them what kind of establishment you’re running here.” I glance at his name tag. “Sound good, Scott?”
He looks nervous for a second, probably not because of my threat to call the media, but because I think he’s getting the idea that I might be a bit unstable. He probably thinks I’m about two seconds away from coming back here and blowing the place up. “Let me see if there’s any way the computer can circumvent the I.D. check,” he says, tapping some buttons. Five minutes later, I’m on my way up to room 205.
I hate my dad, I hate Jordan, I even hate myself, because Jocelyn warned me he was bad news. I knew he was bad news. And I did it anyway. Which is so not like me. I don’t get caught up in the moment. I analyze everything to death. I play it safe. And the first time I take a risk, look what happens. I end up wandering around a college campus in North Carolina, brokenhearted and with nowhere to go.
I pull out my cell phone and delete past the screen that says I have eighteen missed calls. Most of them are from my dad, who I hung up on when he told me he’d been cheating on my mom for the past six months.
“I have something to tell you, Courtney,” he’d said, and I’d sat down on the bench, thinking maybe he was going to tell me he was sick, or my mom was sick, or that something bad happened to my grandma. Because he had that tone in his voice, the tone people get when they know they have to tell you something bad and they’re dreading it.
“What is it?” I said, my heart in my stomach and my stomach in my throat.
“I’m having an affair,” he’d said, and for a brief second, I thought he meant he was throwing a party or something. Like those people on that MTV show My
Super Sweet 16. They’re always referring to birthday parties as affairs. So I thought maybe my dad was planning a party, or that maybe he was even throwing one for me. But then I remembered that I’d already had a graduation party, a pretty big one actually, and that if my dad was going to throw a party, he definitely wouldn’t sound so serious.
“An affair?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve been cheating on your mother for the past six months.” I couldn’t believe the way he was saying it—it almost seemed kind of like a joke. He was using such horrible words. “Affair.” “Cheat.” It was like if it had been true, he would have tried to soften the blow a little bit.
“Okay,” I said, not sure what I was supposed to do with this information.
“I’m so sorry to be telling you this now,” he said, sounding like he meant it. “I didn’t want to have to burden you with this while you’re getting ready to start school.” He sighed. “I know it’s the last thing you should have to deal with, and I’m sorry for that, Courtney.”
“Why are you telling me now?” I asked.
“Because Jordan said he was going to tell you if I didn’t,” he said. “And I knew you had to hear it from me.” My heart skipped in my chest.
“How does Jordan know about it?” I asked, wondering when Jordan would have heard such a thing. How had he found out about this? We’d been on this trip for the past couple of days. Had he gotten a phone call from someone who found out?
“Jordan’s known for a while, Courtney,” my dad said. “He caught me with his mom a few months ago.”
“You’re having an affair with Jordan’s mom?” I’m surprised, because Jordan’s mom is so…I don’t know. She’s like this high-powered lawyer, totally the opposite of my mom, who’s more glam. But maybe that’s the problem.