As I eat the lunch Jordy packed for me this morning, my phone rings, and her name pops up on the screen. I was just thinking how much I miss her, which is silly since I saw her a few hours ago and we spent most of the weekend together.
I answer the phone with a smile on my face. “Hey! How’s your day going?”
“Not great, actually.” Jordy’s bland tone has me sitting up straighter. “I’m not feeling good, and I was wondering if I could take the rest of the day off school and skip work this afternoon. I know I missed a bunch of shifts at the end of November, but Christmas break starts next week, so I can make up for it then.”
“I’m not worried about that,” I tell her. “Are you okay? Anything I can do? Want me to pick you up and take you home? Get you some meds or something?”
She laughs under her breath, and I can picture her clearly in my mind: the affectionate, almost indulgent expression on her face, likely paired with a head shake. As many questions as I asked, I want to ask a million more. Jordy isn’t the type to miss school or work without good reason, so she must be feeling rough. Shedidseem a bit off before she headed out to school this morning; she’s been chipper the last week, but this morning she was quiet and seemed to be avoiding my gaze, even though she smiled at me whenever I spoke to her.
“I’m fine,” she says. “I’m gonna go back to the house and lie down for a bit. I’ll take the bus,” she adds in a rush before I can ask again if she wants a ride.
I tell her to call or text if she needs anything, and we hang up. I spend the next hour attempting to distract myself with work. I can’t help worrying about Jordy, though; other than the last year of knowing her, the only experience I’ve had with teens was when Iwasone. Is she coming down with something or is it as innocuous as lack of sleep, getting her period, or even needing a mental health day? What if she’s being bullied at school? What if something is going on with her dad or her sister and she’s afraid to tell me?
Despite knowing I’m overthinking it, I take advantage of the fact the center is fully staffed today, and I head out, making a quick stop to pick up some comfort items: a couple of chocolate bars, Jordy’s favorite brand of cookies, some frozen pizza pockets, and a bottle of ginger ale just in case.
When I enter the house, it takes me a minute to realize the voices I hear are coming from the TV. I find Jordy in the living room, curled up under a blanket. I immediately recognizeTed Lassoon the screen, and I smile at her choice. She hasn’t reacted to me coming in—she would have heard my car drive up and me entering the house—so I assume she’s asleep. I take my shopping to the kitchen and then come back out to turn off the TV so she doesn’t miss anything while she’s sleeping.
A sniffling sound makes me pause as I reach for the remote. Jordy isn’t sleeping; her eyes are trained on the screen, unseeing and teary. Several seconds pass before her gaze swings to meet mine. She blinks, and tears spill down her face.
“Jordy? What’s wrong?”
Clutching the blanket around her, she pushes herself into a seated position. “It’s this stupid show,” she says, giving a watery laugh. “I kept hearing people talking about it, so when I got home and saw you have AppleTV, I thought I’d give it a shot. It’s funny, and I like the soccer stuff. My brother played in high school before…well, before.” The way she says this tells me she means her brother who’s now in jail, not the one out west.
She releases a slow breath through pursed lips, and fresh tears spill onto her cheeks. “I was cynical the first few episodes with how sunshiny and positive Ted is, you know? Like, how can anyone bethatgood? That kind and understanding, always willing to help and see the best in people. I haven’t known many people like that, so it’s hard to believe. But then I got thinking about howyou’relike that…how you…you…”
Her words are choked off by a quiet sob, followed by a heavy stream of tears. She shakes her head and buries her face in her hands. Alarm races through me. My legs lock, keeping me frozen in place for several long beats until I snap out of it and stagger forward. My limbs feel heavy and useless as I collapse on the couch, nearly crashing into Jordy. She turns toward me and I gather her into my arms, holding on tight and running one hand over her head and back in what I hope is a comforting motion.
I want to ask questions or say something soothing, but I remember the times my friends have held me like this and how much I appreciated that they just let me cry. They never tried to fix things or tell me everything would be okay. Those things always came later, once I was ready to hear them.
It feels like ages later when Jordy releases me and eases into a sitting position. “Sorry,” she says, her voice hoarse.
“Don’t be sorry.”
From the way she’s back to avoiding my gaze, I’m guessing she’s embarrassed. She looks relieved and grateful at my offer to make tea. I hand her a box of tissues and go to the kitchen, where I take my time making tea and putting Jordy’s favorite cookies on a plate.
After dawdling for as long as I can, I return to the living room. Jordy accepts the mug of tea with an absent smile and sets it on the table, grabbing two cookies from the plate.
I feel like I’m about to burst when she finally speaks. “I’ve been talking to my brother Reggie in Calgary a lot this past week,” she says, her voice still rough. “He’s glad that I’m away from our dad and staying with you.” She looks at me now, her expression rueful. “I talked to him late last night and he said he’s working on a plan for me to come out there sooner than later. He always said he was waiting because he wanted to get an apartment for us, but he talked to his bosses, and they’ll let me stay at the ranch if I agree to work there part-time and finish high school.”
“Jordy, that’s amazing.” I want to reach out and touch her, put my hand on her arm or cover the hand that’s resting on her thigh. Her rigid posture makes me uncertain, so I keep my hands to myself. “Isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah,” she says faintly. “It’s just…I’m excited at the idea of getting out of Bellevue, but I’m also terrified of moving to a strange place halfway across the country. And…and I’m sad to leave you.” The pause after this admission only lasts a second, so I don’t have a chance to respond. “And then there’s my dad and the rest of my family. I’d miss my niece and nephew, and my sister is about to have her new baby. She won’t be on her own anymore, though. Remember how I told you her boyfriend left when he found out she was pregnant again? Well, he came back last week after my niece was in the hospital and he promised to stick around this time and be a better dad and boyfriend.”
“That’s great. I’m sure that’s a big relief for your sister. And for you.”
Jordy nods, stuffing the rest of the second cookie in her mouth and reaching for another.
“Can I ask you something?”
“’Course,” she says. “I’m living in your house and I just bawled all over you. You can ask me anything.” When I try unsuccessfully not to laugh, she gives me a half-hearted smile.
“If no one else factored into your decision—not me, not your dad, not the rest of your family—what would you want to do?”
Her eyebrows inch up. She’s likely never been asked a question like that before. “I’d wanna go as soon as possible.”
My heart gives a painful littlethudin my chest. I ignore it. “Then don’t worry about me or your sister or your dad or anything else.”
“Isn’t that selfish, though?”
