Birthday Girl

“I just—”

“I’m not going to tell you where she is,” she cuts me off.

I see Cam watching us, and I take another breath, squaring my shoulders. “I just need to know she’s okay.”

“She’s fine,” she replies curtly. “And she’ll be even better if she stays away from you and this town.”

I move in, dropping my voice. “I need to see her. Please.”

“You had her.”

Her eyes are nearly covered by her long black bangs, but I can see the hatred in them well enough.

I don’t want to bother Jordan. She’s stayed away, and I haven’t heard from her, so that tells me I think I did the right thing. She’s doing fine, and she’ll be happier.

But I’m not. This isn’t over for me. You need your heart to get out of bed, walk, talk, work, and eat, and she took it when she left. I wasn’t much before she came along, but what I did have inside me she left with. I’m fucking miserable.

“Please tell her…” I pause, admitting out loud what I was afraid to face. “That I love her.”

Shel doesn’t say anything, and I can’t even look in her eyes and see everything she’s thinking that I know is true. I fucked up.

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I’m about to leave when Cam moves in.

“It’s been two months,” she says to Shel. “And he still looks like shit.”

“That’s not Jordan’s problem.”

“And we’re not Jordan’s keepers,” Cam retorts. “She walked away once, she can walk away again if that’s what she chooses. We don’t need to protect her.”

Shel hesitates, shoots me a glare, and finally gives up, walking around Cam to the other end of the bar.

Cam turns to me. “Look, we don’t know exactly where she is,” she says. “She calls and checks in every few weeks. But she has a friend whose family runs some motel in eastern Virginia. She’s been trying to get Jordan to come visit and even offered her a job there one summer.” She hesitates and then shrugs. “Without a lot of money, I can’t imagine Jordan has anywhere else to go.”

Virginia. That’s a twelve-hour drive. Would she have done that with the VW?

I guess if Cam says she’s calling, then she’s safe. And this is as good a lead as I’m going to get. Her fall classes start in a week, and if she were returning, she’d be doing it by now, wouldn’t she? She’d want her things out of my house, and she’d need to figure out where she was going to live. Was she planning on coming home at all?

I need to find her. I can’t wait.

I turn to leave but then stop. “What’s the name of the motel?” I ask Cam.

But she just sighs. “Hmm, can’t remember,” she says, playing with me. “I guess if you want her bad enough you’ll find her.”

And then she walks away, pleased with herself that she’s making it more difficult for me. I could call around, I guess, but if I do happen to find her, she might just hang up on me. I need to go find her.

I need to at least see her one last time and tell her that I love her and that she’s everything.

And that I’m dead without her.

Jordan

I click the mouse, moving the red six-of-hearts and everything underneath it to the black seven-of-clubs. Then I turn over the new card, clicking it twice, and watching the Ace automatically slide up to a free cell.

After nine weeks I’ve gotten pretty good at this game. Danni keeps suggesting I learn poker or blackjack or maybe even get into some online gaming with people from around the world, but I’m not that cool. I like playing alone. Just something to keep my brain occupied. It’s been an eventful summer vacation, too. I’ve won about three-hundred-fifty games out of four hundred, and I only lost that many, because I kept playing too late and would fall asleep, letting my battery die.

I actually feel quite pathetic when I let myself think about how I’ve spent hours and hours over this gorgeous summer. But then I just start a new game, and I stop thinking about it.