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Episode No. 31 - Face Your Demons

written by Lady Guinevere

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About this story

Published: 09 Jul 2010 | Size: 57 KB (10100 words) | Language: english | Rating: PG-13

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Abstract:
Facing your demons is never easy; Rickie has to face his with Mr Katimski in a coma and the chance to start a new life in a new home. Angela has to face her demons when some knowledge about ‘Ms’ Summers changes her perspective on the woman drastically. More demons come to her in the form of an embarrassing picture. Brian has to face his demons, when the love for his camera leads him into problems again. Jordan has to face his demons when someone from his past wants to be part of his future. Rayanne has to face her daily demons and more when her secret is about to be revealed.

based on stories and characters created by Winnie Holzman

Rayanne VO: “Most people who know me, they think I’m like, having a blast and don’t give a crap where my life is headed. Maybe they’re like, right in some ways, but it’s not like I *really* don’t care, it’s just, you know, it’s difficult being me, or whatever. Sometimes it feels like I’m living the dream, you know, but then I like, wake up again, hung-over and all alone, and I realise my life is just like, this big nightmare that needs to be drowned in forgetfulness quickly.”

Slowly, Rayanne awakes from a superficial, restless sleep. Her tongue feels like a piece of parchment that’s stuck to the roof of her mouth. “Oooh…” Every morning the ritual is the same; her head is pounding and throbbing and she *swears* never ever to drink another drop. But there’s like only *one* decent remedy against the pain, the throbbing, and the insatiable thirst, and that’s too get drunk again, quickly. Besides, the month she like, went sober, was like, the longest one in her life. Life seemed to pass by annoyingly slow, without any real stuff like, happening in it. Life’s like a drag when she’s sober, with all its bright colours, loud sounds and deeply wounding pains. In a numb state of mind and body, everything’s so much easier to deal with, because honestly, most things just pass her by.

Her trembling muscles hinder her in turning down the sheets (which still bear the scent of alcohol and cigarette-smoke from who knows how many get-togethers and parties recently), and the sunlight shining through the curtains feels like a laser-beam being pointed at her eyes, radiating right into her brain. “Ugh!” Sitting up straight feels like the accomplishment of the day, but even more sadly it will probably be like, the highlight of this pathetic day.

Raking her hands through her tangled-up hair, Rayanne takes a few steps away from her bed. With every step, there seems to be someone playing the drums, on the *inside* of her head. Looking around, there’s no trace of Amber.

Rayanne VO: “I’m all alone, again. Wow, there’s a shock…Not.”

If it weren’t for the marching band in her head, the silence would be deafening. There are like, some mornings she feels a little better than today. Those are the mornings she usually turns on the radio to drown out the truth being screamed at her from the quiet. It’s hard to have no one to talk to, and even harder to have no one who takes care of you. It’s hard to have the silence emphasize your loneliness.

Having reached the bathroom, she eyes her dishevelled reflection in the mirror. Make-up seems to live a life of its own when she’s asleep, and it seeks out like, the strangest places to settle down for the night. Almost every morning, this straw-headed, black-eyed panda bear stares back at her. After throwing a pile of clothes -reeking of boys and bars- onto the floor, Rayanne steps into the shower.

Rayanne VO: “Crap, I like, need a drink right now! I practically tried to drown my brain in alcohol last night, but I still like, couldn’t stop thinking about the obnoxious, unwanted inhabitant of my head. Screw Brian Krakow; screw him and his stupid curls. I should be like, charging him, for occupying Rayanne Graff’s valuable and private brain-space, you know? I’ve got like, more important stuff to like, try and forget. I mean, Mr K’s surgery ended in a crappy coma and Rickie’s like, having a hard time dealing with it. So, why, no matter how much I like, drink, is the first thing that keeps bubbling back up into my mind like, Krakow?!”



[The next morning, Brian Krakow’s room]

Reliving the moment, Brian’s eyes linger on the developed pictures of Angela and Jordan making out in the boiler room. His fingers trace over the erotic image of Angela with her almost fully exposed upper body, bitterly thinking this is probably the closest he will ever get to touching her. They look so good together; the picture could be used for a commercial or something. If it weren’t like, this hot and steamy, ofcourse.

Consumed by his aroused feelings, he can’t stop looking at the pictures. He hasn’t been able to put them aside ever since he developed them. His mind has been occupied with the pictures; and the moans that went along with it haunt him night and day.

Usually, looking at the pictures protrudes images of Rayanne onto his mind as well. The few things she’s taught him were like, awesome and all, but being with her is nothing serious. She can’t compare to Angela, no matter how hard he tries to make Rayanne take her place. It’s not like she’s that reliable anyway; one day she’ll like, want him, and the next she’ll push him away. It’s like, enjoyable to be around her, freakishly enough. Although, it’s not like, *that* strange, considering her great body and even better looking legs. But she’s just not the kind of girl he could see himself getting married to.

“Brian, there’s a bowl of oatmeal, still waiting for you!”

Startled from his thoughts by his mother’s voice, Brian drops the picture to the floor. Afraid either his mom or dad will find the pictures in his room; he stuffs them into his backpack again, following the same ritual he has performed since their development last week.

If either of his parents finds these pictures, there’s no telling how they will react. His behaviour will be analyzed thoroughly, he can hear them talking about his crazy cravings already. Sometimes he wishes his parents were like, *normal* human beings. Normal parents, you know, the kind that will get mad at him for harbouring pornographic pictures instead of encouraging him to discover his sexual desires. However, his parents will search his mind for abnormalities and fight each other about their perspectives on their son’s self-destructive behaviour and longings to stay an outsider instead of a participant in the wonderful world of sex and vibrators as loud as lawnmowers.

With his bag clutched tightly against his body, Brian walks down the stairs.



[English class, Ms Summers]

“How are things with Mr Katimski? Does anyone know how the surgery went?” Pacing through the classroom, Ms Summers eyes her students one by one.

“He’s like, in a coma, you know. So, basically, they know like, shit.” After finishing her sentence, Rayanne shoves the lollipop she withdrew earlier, back in her mouth.

Rayanne VO: “Lollipops are like, the only things that taste like, strong enough to cover up the rancid taste of hangovers and throw-up from the night before. That, and they’re like, the only food-group Amber has lying around the house. Oh, and they like, totally satisfy my orally fixated cravings, you know?”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Why would you like, be sorry? You don’t even like, *know* the guy. If he hadn’t-- you know-- you wouldn’t even be here!” Anger is fleeing over Rayanne’s face.

Rayanne VO: “Why would ‘Ms’ Summers feel like, sorry for him? Why can’t people be like, themselves, instead of acting and showing that phoney politeness, like, all the time? It’s like, hard enough without guessing who someone really is. Crap, it’s like enough to make a person drink…”

“Thank you, Miss Graff, for pointing that out to me. No, I don’t know the man, but I’ve come to understand he was loved by many people, and he’s far too young to be suffering from something like this. The heavens are full enough as it is already.”

“Do you believe in heaven, Ms Summers?” Totally disregarding the sensitivity of the subject, Brian raises his hand and bluntly asks his teacher’s opinion.

Rayanne VO: “‘Do you believe in heaven, Ms Summers?’ Ugh, just like, hear him! Teacher’s pet Brian Krakow. Yes, Ms Summers, I’ll show you heaven, Ms Summers. He’s like, so obnoxious right now; I wanna push him into the wall and shut him up by kissing him wildly. He won’t know what hit him! Ha, no one will know what hit them, Rayanne and Krakow, now there’s a freak-show they won’t forget!”

“If you mean heaven as a place where we will all go after we’ve died, a place where we will be happy all the time, I’m not sure. If you believe in heaven, you have to believe in hell, as well. Who determines whether a person deserves a place up above, or down below? If you made a few mistakes in life, does it mean you deserve to go to hell? I for one don’t intend to live my life in fear of my after-life. I’m human, so I make mistakes. But I do believe in seconds chances during *this* lifetime. God knows some of us have paid enough for our mistakes already…” At the last words, Ms Summers pauses at Jordan’s table, her eyes fixated on his a little too long.

“Did you see that?! Tell me I’m not imagining things!” With her mouth open, Angela stares at Ms Summers over by Jordan’s table.

“You know, I’m kinda getting the whole Mrs-Robinson-vibe from her now, if you get my drift…” Entertained, Rayanne watches the scene unfold. “Hey, anyone got some popcorn for me?”

“Rayanne! It’s not funny! I can’t believe her, you know?” Stumped for words, Angela’s eyes keep scanning Ms Summers and Jordan.

Rayanne VO: “Let’s shake things up a little; this class is like, so boring! This’ll be like; the most fun I’ve had all day, how sad it that?”

“Ms Summers? What do you think of um, like, an adult who has sex with someone like, half his or her age? Should they like, go to heaven or hell?” Boldly, Rayanne eyes Ms Summers.

“As long as both parties agree, and neither of them is misusing their status, and the youngest person isn’t under age, I think it’s not illegal or sinful enough to send them to hell. But then again, I don’t make the calls, do I?”

“Hey, I’m all for free love, you know? No need to convince me!”

“No, I’m not saying--”

“I am.”

Whispering, Rayanne leans into Angela. “You know, I have to respect her opinion on this one, Angelica. She had no business like, asking about Mr K, but hey, when it comes to love, or you know, *sex*… rules like, shouldn’t apply. She’s like, the devil, disguised as an angel, or something. You gotta admire that!”

“I hate her, and that’s like, *my* humble opinion.”



[The Pride House, same day]

Looking up against a gorgeous looking manor, Rickie swallows away a lump in his throat. Finally, he scrapes together the courage to ring the doorbell. A little later, he is being guided through wood-clad hallways to a distant office. The door opens and Rickie is being escorted inside the office. Shivers are running down his spine at the sight of the painting of a gruff looking military type of guy.

“Mr Vasquez, welcome to Pride House!” Contradicting his stiff exterior, the man’s voice sounds warm.

“Thank you, I guess. I was like, a little worried to come here, you know?”

“I understand, most of the adolescents in here, came in looking just like you. It’s our job to make them feel at home, like it is to make you feel at home as well. It may not exactly be home, sweet home, but we try to maintain the same rules any normal family would have. We feel that our strength should come from family-values as much as family-loving.”

“I would *love* to be part of a normal family, I think living here won’t be so bad…”

“Let me show you your room, afterwards I’ll take you over our rules and regulations and then you can decide whether you accept our offer or not.”

Walking through the manor, Rickie encounters several other inhabitants. The house looks strict and straightened up and kind of old-fashioned. Walking up the great oak staircase, they reach another hallway. After passing a few doors, the man holds open a door, guiding Rickie into a room with an arm-gesture.

“If you wish, you are allowed to paint the walls. The furniture is optional as well, if you have some of your own, you’re welcome to bring it along. But we have learned from experience most of our residents don’t exactly have those means.”

Looking around, a smile spreads across Rickie’s face. The room is bigger than the one he used to have, and a huge window provides it with a lot of light. The bed is a wooden four-poster bed with red velvet curtains, no way is he gonna change that for anything else! There’s even a desk with a TV on it.

“You know, I think I’ll feel right at home here!”  



[After Ms Summers’ class]

On his way out, Brian’s eyes glide over some letters lying on Ms Summers’ desk.  Quickly, he looks around the classroom to see Ms Summers talking to a couple of students; her back turned towards him. Dropping his bag to the floor, Brian picks up the upper envelope and carefully reads the addressee. “Mrs Catalano.”

Flicking through the other letters, Brian reads the name ‘Catalano’ on every envelope. Why would she say her name is *Ms* Summers, when clearly, it’s not? Is she like, related to Jordan Catalano maybe?

Forgetting all about his bag, Brian walks out the classroom; his mind occupied with the recently discovered mystery.



[Next morning, Chase’s house]

“So, Rickie, when will you be leaving us to move into the Pride House?” Sipping his coffee, Graham eyes the boy.

“Well, there’s still like, this little problem, you see. They ask for a small amount of money every month, for like, food, and rent, you know? And honestly, I’m not sure like, where to get that kind of cash.”

“I see… Well, you might be in luck… Hallie and I discussed this, and we’ve actually got a job-opening at the restaurant. We need someone to help us out during the rush hours. And you know, I heard it helps if you know the owners.” Graham winks at Rickie. “You really proved to be a great help at the opening night, so I’d apply for the job if I were you…”

“Oh, Mr Chase, I couldn’t accept that, really. You and Mrs Chase have given me like, so much already!”

“Nonsense, Rickie! You’d be doing us a big favour; we could really use a pair of extra hands. We’d pay you too, of course. Look, why don’t you just give it a try, okay?”

“Well, if you’re like, sure about it, I’d love to try it out! I don’t know how to thank you, Mr C; you’re a life-saver!”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Rickie, don’t worry. Hallie’s running around the restaurant like crazy, it would be so great if you could lighten her burdens.” Graham pauses for a brief moment. “So, when did you say you wanted to move into the Pride House?”

“As soon as I come up with the money, I guess. I was hoping like, this weekend. And I hate to ask for another favour, but I was hoping you guys could like, help me, you know, by driving my stuff over there.”

“Of course we will help you, Rickie! I mean, it’s not that we want to get you out of our way or anything, but, well, you know what I mean, we’ll help you.” Patty places her hand over Rickie’s.

“Yeah, thanks, Mr and Mrs C, for you know, like, everything.”



[Outside school]

“Hey Chase, got a minute?” Hastily throwing his bicycle into the bicycle-rack, Brian runs up to Angela.

Without saying a word, Angela eyes Brian briefly and keeps on walking to the main-entrance.

“It’s like, important, I wouldn’t talk to you otherwise, believe me…” It’s hard for Brian to look at Angela without seeing the pictures he took of her and Jordan.

“What is it, Krakow?” Stopping dead, Angela reluctantly gives Brian her attention.

“I umm, like, found out something… I mean, what if someone isn’t like, who she says she is, but she’s really… I mean, Jordan, has he like, ever mentioned a relative who um, teaches?”

“You’re talking in riddles, and I don’t see why Jordan’s family is any of your business.”

“I know, it’s not, but I think it could be like, yours. You see, Ms Summers, she…”

“What do you know about Ms Summers and Jordan? Did you like, catch them at something illegal?” Worried that Brian stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have, Angela fears the worst.

“No, no, I didn’t catch them at…” Brian looks at her puzzled, what on earth is she referring to?

“Then what, Krakow? Please, get to the point, will you?”

“Okay, okay, remember, when Ms Summers interrupted Mrs Lerner just before she was going to say like, her married name? Telling her, she didn’t go by that name anymore?”

“Yeah, I guess. So, she got a divorce, I still don’t understand what that’s got to do with Jordan.”

“She’s um, look, I don’t know what it like, means, but I saw like, these letters lying on Ms Summers’ desk, only they were like, addressed to a Mrs Catalano.”

Angela’s eyes lose their focus, her mind wandering on the consequences of Brian’s words. Various facial expressions battle for space on her face; confusion is being replaced by self-loathing before her face gets an almost neutral expression once again.

“Angela? You okay?” Hesitant, Brian stretches out his fingers to poke Angela’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine. So, you’re like, absolutely *sure* that her name is Catalano?”

“Positive.”

“I’m not sure what to say. God, I was like, thinking she was coming on to him, but--.”

Closing her mouth before she fills Brian in on Jordan’s past, Angela’s mind is working overtime. Ms Summers’ real name being the same as Jordan’s could be a total coincidence, and the only reason she’s not using it, is because she’s divorced. But, she could also be a relative of Jordan’s. She could be like an aunt, or a niece, or a cousin. She could even be like, his *mother*. Wow. No, that can’t be right. Why would his mother leave him and then come back when he’s like, an adult? That’s not what mothers are supposed to do.

“You thought *what*?” Brian makes a disgusted face; Angela thought Ms Summers and Jordan were like…?!

“Look, Brian, don’t tell anyone what you found out yet, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But I’m glad you told me, thanks.”

Smiling, Brian stays by Angela’s side all the way up to school. Finally, he told her something worth telling. She spoke to him again, and treated him like an actual person. Nothing can ruin his day anymore.



[Girls’ restroom]

“Holy crap…” Holding up a piece of paper, Rayanne comes storming into the bathroom.

“What’s that, another list of girls?” Quickly, Sharon grabs the piece of paper from Rayanne’s hand.

Reaching into her bag, Rayanne pulls out her flask and pours some of its content down her throat, taking the edge off life. Getting hold of Sharon’s shoulder for support; Rayanne’s eyes pair up with Sharon’s, who seemingly is studying the picture.

On the black and white picture of Angela and Jordan making out, Angela’s head is tilted back while Jordan’s lips are pressed against her neck. If it weren’t for Jordan’s head blocking the view, you would be able to see Angela’s naked upper body, no doubt about it. The picture is extremely hot and steamy.
Underneath there’s written: ‘The subject Jordan Catalano doesn’t need to be tutored in…’

“Poor Angela… This is like, worst than that time when they spread that rumour on her and Jordan. God, this is like, even worst than getting caught with that sex-tape.”

“Oh come on, this is like, a brilliant picture! You know, it could even be like, the start of a whole new career!” Waving the piece of paper in the air, Rayanne can’t stop smirking.

Rayanne VO: “I know I’m like, supposed to feel sorry for Angela, that these flyers with these like, freaking sexy pictures of her and Jordan are like, all over school, but you know, who cares?  Having sex isn’t like something she should be embarrassed about, you know? She’s like, kinda stuck-up sometimes; she needs to like, I dunno, loosen up, or she’ll turn into Patty. Ugh.”

“So, who like, took the picture? Did Brian Krakow like, do it?” Sharon’s eyes stay glued to the piece of paper.

“I guess… It’s not like I know that many photographers at school who like, suffer from an Angela-obsession, do you?”

“No, I don’t know any other photographers. But when did he like, you know, take it? He’s not like, spying on them is he? And why would he take a picture of them, you know, making out?”

“Dunno, don’t care. I can’t like, make up my mind yet, you know? Is it like, really kinky, or is it just like, perverted?”

Rayanne VO: “Taking pictures like this, means you’re like, really, um, what’s the word I’m going for here? Obsessed? Driven? Pathetic and lonely? Suicidal even, maybe? I guess Krakow’s like, all of these things. He’s like, weird, you know, living life through the lens of a camera. But hey, I’m like, living life looking through the bottom of a bottle, so I’m not like, judging him. No, I hate to admit it, but I’m even like, turned on by this side of him. Who knew he was like, such a thrill seeker; trying to capture his fantasies or maybe like, the dark side of life, on film? We’re not that different I guess. Living on the light side of life *sucks*.”

“I think it’s disgusting, you don’t like, take pictures of people when they’re like, making out. It’s pathetic he just keeps following Angela around and like, catches every move she makes on film. He’s like, her personal stalker or something, it’s like, so sad.”

Rayanne VO: “Cherski’s got a point. It’s like, sad, he’s still following Angela around. I shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of like, being with me when he like, wants to be with *her* anyway. I’m like, the big loser in this picture, I guess. But, he came down there because *I* asked him to, so…”

“Maybe he just happened to be there, who knows…”

“Brian? Yeah, he’s surely got a talent for finding out the wrong things, like, all the time.”

“About that talent… Those forms, you know, they weren’t like, Angela’s, were they?”

“What forms are you talking about?”

“You know; the abortion papers. I saw them too, you know.”

“Why do you always have to know like, everything?”

Rayanne VO: “I have like, this reputation to uphold, you know? It’s kinda hard, always knowing everything about everyone, but people are like, expecting me to do it, so. It’s just who I’m supposed to be, and it like, keeps me from thinking about who I like, *really* wanna be, so, whatever.”

“I make it like, my business to know, if it’s worth knowing of course. I mean, a girl’s gotta do, what a girl’s gotta do to survive, right?”

“They were mine okay, you happy now?”

Rayanne VO: “I used to think Cherski was like, this really good girl, until that poem she wrote like, proved the opposite. Cherski was having sex and she wrote a damn hot poem about it! Then she turned out to be even more like, not-flawless, when the abortion-forms showed up. Who knew good girls like, get in trouble as well?”

“So you’re…” Rayanne slaps her hand over her mouth; her eyes grow big with disbelief.

“No, I’m not, I mean, I wasn’t. I got my period in time. But don’t tell anyone, Kyle doesn’t know, okay?”

“I won’t tell, besides, there are like, thousands of erotic pictures of Angela and Jordan spread around school, so I’ve got like, something else on my mind.”

“Poor Angela, she’ll never go to school again…”



[School hallways]

Walking through the school hallways with big paces, Angela holds a piece of paper clutched in her hands. Every step she makes, her feet seem to trample on another piece of paper, displaying the same black and white pictures of Jordan and her. Ignoring the students’ eyes directed at her and the giggles whenever she walks by, she moves straight to her target, Brian Krakow.

“What’s this?” Crumpling up the piece of paper in her hand, Angela’s eyes spark with fury.

“I um, I…”

“Did you do this?”

“No, no, I mean, yeah, I like, took the pictures, but I didn’t… I’m just as surprised as you are, trust me!”

“Oh, I’m sure you are. You took the pictures and they like, magically, appeared all over school!”

“Chase, listen, I took the pictures, okay? And I’m really sorry about it, but I had them like, in my bag, at all times. And then, yesterday, after Ms Summers’ class, I like, forgot my bag. Someone must have taken the pictures out and, you know…”

“Why should I like, believe you? When Jordan caught you in the boiler room you *denied* taking any pictures. But, obviously, you did, so, were you like, following me?”

“No, I wasn’t following you, believe me. I left my camera down there, and I didn’t want to get it because I knew you and Jordan were there, but it was like, too expensive to leave it there. And then I saw you and Jordan and you looked so…”

“You were spying on us, Brian! You had no right to do that! Now look what happened!”

“Look, I’m like, really sorry, you know? I never meant to…” Why did he take those pictures anyway? Just before school, when he told her about Mrs Catalano, Angela seemed to be letting him nearer again. But now, he pushed her away again by invading her privacy.

“Never meant to what, Krakow? Never meant to invade my privacy? Never meant to lie to me? Never meant to embarrass me in front of the whole school? Well, you did. God, I even had to come to the principal’s office to explain this!”

“I don’t know who did this, but I *swear* it wasn’t me! Why would I like, *do* such a thing?”

“Why would you take the pictures to begin with, Krakow? Your mind apparently works in mysterious ways. Maybe you’re just jealous of us, I dunno! Anyway, I told the principal I knew who took the pictures, so be prepared.”

Disappointed, Angela walks away from Brian. Her rage subsides and embarrassment takes over. Trying to ignore the cheering, whistling and obscene gesturing that surround her; she quickly walks over to the girls’ bathroom to hide away for the rest of her life.

A voice over the intercom, ringing through the school halls; summons Brian Krakow to the principal’s office at once. Leaving him no time to feel ashamed and embarrassed, Brian bolts away.



[Girls’ restroom]

The sobs coming from the last stall, tell Rickie that Angela is in there. “Angela?”

Receiving no answer, Rickie walks over to the door of the last stall and gently knocks upon it. “Angela, come out, please. Jordan is waiting for you, outside the bathroom.”

“If he wants to see me he can look at one of the gazillion pictures scattered all over school.”

“Come on, you can’t stay in here like, for the rest of your life? You can’t let other people like, take over your life, remember? Face your demons!”

Softly, the door swings open, revealing Angela leaning against the wall.

“Come on…” Getting hold of her hand, Rickie pulls Angela from the stall. “Besides, you’ve got like, nothing to be ashamed of! Look how gorgeous you two look! I’m gonna frame this picture and like, hang it on my new wall!”

Laughing quietly through her tears, Angela falls into Rickie’s arms for an embrace. “Thanks, Rickie.”

“Now go and talk to your partner in sex-crimes.”



[School hallways]

“Hey, so, I guess you like, um, saw the pictures you know, of you and me?” Tucking his hands in his pockets, Jordan gives Angela a shy smile. Standing amidst a paper-covered floor, he shuffles his feet.

“Duh…” Taking in the environment, Angela can’t escape reality. Everywhere she looks, the pictures stare back at her; on the floor, on the walls and even on some lockers.

“Yeah, you know, Shane and the guys like, saw them too.”

“Yeah, they’re like, not that hard to miss, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess. So now they’re, you know, asking me where to like, sign up for tutoring and stuff.”

Angela smirks a little. “God, how old are they?”

“Yeah, I told them, you know, it’s like, none of their business.”

“You should have told them that Krakow would be happy to teach them.”  

“Yeah, I’ll tell ‘em that.” Jordan grins before he continues seriously. “So, did Brain like, do this?”

“I already asked him and he admitted to having taken the pictures, but he *swears* he didn’t copy them.”

“So, he took the pictures? Like, that time in the boiler room?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So, can you like, give me a reason I shouldn’t, you know, handle him?”

“I can’t.”

“So, you’re saying you like, want me to?”

“I’m not saying that.”

“So, what *are* you saying?”

“I’m saying you shouldn’t become your father, Jordan.” Angela fixes her eyes onto Jordan’s.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean, I was just like, asking, you know.”

“I know, and I know you’re not really the violent type, so.”

“No, I’m not. I hate it, but I guess that’s like, logical.”

“Yeah, that really makes sense. I’m glad you’ve learned from your dad’s mistakes.” Angela’s hands seek out Jordan’s. “Besides, most people *know* who took the pictures and they’re like, eyeing him like he’s some kind of freak, you know? That’s gotta be like, punishment enough, I guess. Oh, and I told the principal he took the pictures. They just summoned for him, so he’s not done yet, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess. And I think he like, is. Freaky, I mean.”

“Yeah well, he’s sorry, you know. He’s just, Brian Krakow I guess.” For a brief moment, Angela pauses. “He um, told me something this morning, you know, before all this happened…”

“Yeah? Like, what?”

“He um, he read an envelope addressed to Ms Summers on her desk. Funny thing is, it wasn’t like, *her* name that was written on it.”

“Oh.” Jordan’s not that interested in hearing another thing that Brain found out, especially after what he did to them.

“I’m not sure how to tell you this Jordan. It could mean nothing, but it could mean like, something big, I guess.”

“So?”

“Her name, Ms Summers’ name, it’s um… it’s Mrs Catalano…” Trying to read his facial expression, Angela locks her eyes onto Jordan’s.

“Ha, just like mine, you mean. What a fluke.”

“Is it just a fluke? Or is she like, related to you maybe?”

Never even realising that this woman could be related to him, Jordan wonders who she could be. His father keeps to himself mostly, so he doesn’t know that many relatives. Maybe she’s like an aunt, or a cousin. He’s got like, tutoring later anyway, so that’s a good chance to ask her. “I’ll ask her later this afternoon.”

“What? No, I um, I didn’t mean you should ask her like, right away. She’s keeping it hidden for a reason, I guess.”

“So? Maybe we’re like, not related anyway. But, I don’t know that much family, so I guess it’s nice if she really *is* related, you know?”

“Jordan, have you ever considered the possibility that she could um, she could be like…” Wondering whether Jordan is really that dim-witted, or just disinterested; Angela hesitates to spell it out for him. She could be wrong, she’s just guessing after all.

“Oh, you’re thinking, she um, she could be like, my mom?” The thought actually crossed Jordan’s mind before, but he dismissed as being unrealistic. “That’s like, funny.” Jordan smirks.

“Why?” Relieved that Jordan figured it out on his own, Angela *is* surprised by his response.

“Dunno, ‘cause it’s like, not possible.”

Flabbergasted, Angela falls silent. She has been worrying for nothing, seeing how easy Jordan deals with this knowledge. “Why not?”

“Just ‘cause. She left me, so why would she like, come back for me now?”

“Dunno, just… You know.”

Someone whistling at them, reminds Angela of the pictures again. “Oh, um, so… Did your friends, you know, say anything about me?” Curiosity takes over, surely Jordan’s friends mentioned Angela’s provocative pose?

Again, Jordan grins. “Yeah, they um, did… but I’m not telling you.”

“Oh come on! Can’t I like, *enjoy* my fifteen minutes of fame a little, instead of just being ashamed?”

Locking his eyes onto hers, Jordan smiles while telling her, “Well, they um, they finally get me, I guess.”



[After school, Pride House]

“Are you sure you want like, all the walls, to be painted *red*?” Staring at the paint-brush in her hand, Angela is afraid to apply the colour to the wall.

“No, just those three. This one, will be, like, black.” Rickie points at the wall opposite the window.

Rayanne VO: “It’s like, so depressing, sitting here, and listening to them talk about colours and the pride House and Mr K like, all the time. It’s almost like, there’s nothing else in the world worth talking about. Meanwhile, the walls of this place are like, trying to squeeze the life out of me. And their words, they’re like, these little piranha’s trying to chew me alive. I need another drink to keep me from going completely insane.”

“Isn’t, like, pink, the colour for the gay community?” Sitting in the window ledge, Rayanne stares outside, sipping from her flask. “God, this place feels like a prison. I feel trapped already!”

Ignoring Rayanne, Rickie eyes Angela. “It’s like, so weird, you know, I finally got like, this great new home, but I’m not, you know, happy. I’d rather live with Mr Katimski, I guess.”

“I know, Rickie. It’s not fair, you finally found someone to look after you, and then he…”
Angela swallows away the rest of the sentence, there’s no point in stating the obvious.

“He’s really like, a great guy, you know? I still can’t believe he’ll never wake up again.”

“Yeah, I know, me neither. Just keep hoping Rickie, don’t give up on him. Not yet anyway.”

“Yeah, I keep hoping, but it’s like, the more time passes, the smaller my hope gets. You know, Angela, you really should consider yourself lucky, you know, having two parents at home, who like, care for you, and worry about you and stuff.”

“Yeah, well, they care so much they’re like, smothering me, especially my mom. I can’t even like, develop my own personality, you know? I should be allowed to make my own mistakes and stuff!”

Rayanne VO: “I’m all for Angela like, loosening up and defying Pattycake, but she’s like, still grounded for staying away the whole night. So we can’t like, hang out and stuff, and it sucks, you know?”

Rayanne cocks her eyebrow at Angela. “Hey, you’re like, still doing time for the last mistake you made, remember?”

“So? It’s not like, I’m *you* or anything; making mistakes and lying about them...”

“What’s that like, supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know, having sex with boys who happen to like me… Like Jordan… And Bri-”

“Look, I thought we were passed all that crap, Angelica?! I thought we were like, friends again, you know? Maybe I thought wrong, I dunno.”

“Yeah, so did I, but don’t friends like, tell each other everything?”

“Like, what didn’t I tell you?”

“Like, you and Brian!”

“Rayanne and Brian?” Rickie’s face looks like he just took a bite from something unimaginable gross.

“Me and Brian? What about me and Brian?” A blush creeps up Rayanne’s cheeks.

“Danielle caught you kissing him, the night of the restaurant opening!”

“What? Jeez, you think I would like, voluntarily, kiss Brian Krakow?!”

“No, of course I don’t think that, but why would Danielle lie to me?”

“I dunno, ask her! Maybe she’s like, jealous, how would I know?!”

“She likes him, so maybe she did make it up. Are you *sure* there’s like, nothing going on between you and Krakow?”

“I’m like, sure. I know I’m not that picky, but I do have *some* taste in men, ugh, please.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure, I’ll believe you.”

“You better like, believe me, damn right…”

Rayanne VO: “Okay, so maybe I’m lying like, a little, but who cares? There’s really like, nothing going on with me and Krakow, okay, we play a little now and then, but I don’t want everyone to know. I mean, he *is* Brian Krakow. And why should Angela like, care? She’s with Jordan, so.”

“Guys? As long as we’re like, already talking about the obnoxious Brian Krakow, he um, found out something, about Ms Summers.” Angela lowers herself onto the bed.

Rayanne VO: “Finally, some action! Never a dull moment when Krakow stick his nose in someone else’s business, I gotta hand him that much!”

“What? She’s got like, a police record, for having nasty sex with some of her students?” Jumping down from the window-ledge, Rayanne pins the black and white photo of Jordan and Angela to the wall.

“No, no, it’s about her name. Ms Summers isn’t like, her real name…” Angela pauses before she continues, “Mrs Catalano is…”

“Catalano? As in, Jordan Catalano?” Sitting down on the bed next to Angela, Rickie leans in closer to her.

“Now I get it, they’re like, married!” Rayanne picks up the red paint-brush and draws a big heart on one of the white walls, with the letters ‘JC’ and ‘Mrs C’ beside it.

“What? Don’t say something disgusting like that! No, it means she could be like, related to him, you know. Maybe she’s like, an aunt, or cousin. Or maybe they’re not related at all, that’s possible too. But all I could think about was that she may be like, his mother, you know? When I told Jordan he didn’t seem worried about it, it was like, so weird, seeing him react so calm.”

Pausing for a moment, Angela looks at Rickie and Rayanne before she continues, “There’s a little voice in my head that keeps telling me that she *is* Jordan’s mom, and she’s like, come back for him, or something…”

Rayanne VO: “Catalano's mother came back for him? No, when parents leave, they like, don’t come back, ever. They write you the occasional card, and even send you some money, but they don’t come back. They like, can’t. It’s like, impossible! Fairytales aren’t real; it’s time Angela realises that.”



[After school, Ms Summers’ classroom]

Shifting in his seat, Jordan’s eyes meet Ms Summers’. He’s wondering if it’s okay to ask her about her real name, but he’s too curious to keep his mouth shut. “So, um, my um girlfriend, she like, told me something about you.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Holding up the black and white picture, Ms Summers points at the image of Angela.

“Yeah, she is, I guess.”

“Nice picture, bit on the dirty side though. I understand the person responsible for this has been detained and is getting rid of the papers as we speak. Confrontation and undoing what you did serve as a good punishment in my opinion.”

“Oh, okay, I’m glad he’s like, getting rid of the pictures, you know.”

“I’m sure you are; it’s got to be embarrassing to see yourself through the entire school, in this awkward pose.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda humiliating, you know?”

“I can connect to that. So, what did your girlfriend tell you then?”

“She told me um, your real last name, is like, the same as um, mine.”

“Oh? How did she find out?” Ms Summers starts fiddling with her rings.
She wanted to spend more time with Jordan before she told him who she really is. What does she tell him now? The truth?

“She um, she heard it from this guy. He saw some letters on your desk.”

Damn nosy kids, she should have known better than to leave her mail lying around. There’s no point in denying; lying to Jordan won’t make things better at all. “I see. Well, it’s correct, or was correct, should I say. I was married to a man named Catalano once.”

“So, you’re like, family, or something? ‘Cause um, I don’t know many relatives.”

“You could say that I am family, I guess.”

“Like, how?”

Ms Summers falls silent for a moment before she speaks softly. “I’m your mother, Jordan.”   

She couldn’t hold her silence any longer; Jordan kept asking her for the truth, so she gave him the truth. Watching him closely, she wonders how he will handle the bomb she just dropped on him.

Jordan’s lips try to speak, but no sound comes out. The words Ms Summers tell him don’t make sense; Jordan hears them, but he can’t believe them. His mother left him, why would she come back? She must be lying; this must be like, a really sick joke, or something.

“Yeah, right…” Jordan laughs sarcastically.

“It’s true, I am.”

“Yeah, I um, I heard you; but you’re kidding, right?” Fearing her answer, Jordan fixes his eyes onto Ms Summers.

“I’m not kidding; it’s hardly something to kid about, is it?”

“I guess not, no. But um, I…”

Getting up, Jordan acts upon the need he feels to leave the classroom. He’s confused, she *can’t* be his mother, she just can’t. So who is she and why is she pulling his leg?

“Jordan? Where are you going?”

“I um, I’m leaving, I guess. I’m like, confused.”

“Please, stay, we’ll talk this over, okay?”

“I don’t know if I can. I still don’t believe you, you know?”

“Please Jordan, believe me. Wait, I’ve got something…”

While rummaging through her bag in search for her purse; her voice starves out. Trembling fingers take out a faded picture of a little, blond haired boy. Showing Jordan the picture; his big blue eyes meet their youthful equivalent.

“Hey, I know this picture…” Unlocking his eyes from the photograph, Jordan eyes Ms Summers. The little boy in the picture is *him*, he’s seen it before.

“This is the last picture I ever had of you.” A sad expression settles upon her face.

Not able to move another muscle, Jordan’s eyes move from the picture to Ms Summers, over and over again. She has to be telling the truth, how else would she have gotten this picture of him? Even more confused than before, Jordan lowers himself onto his seat once more.

“So, if you’re like, really my mother… Why did you leave me?” Afraid of the things he might hear, he feels the urge to flee again. The feelings are overwhelming him; he hasn’t been in this much agony since the time he tried to patch things up with Angela.

“I didn’t leave you, Jordan.”

“You didn’t?” Jordan flicks his hair behind his ears.

“Your dad and I, we didn’t get along that well anymore. He used to drink a lot, and when he did, he’d get violent on me. I was afraid it was only a matter of time before he would harm you as well, so I wanted to get a divorce from him. He told me that if I would divorce him, I’d never see you again.
“So, one night, I fled the house and took you with me; you were probably too small to remember that. Unfortunately, your father found me the next day and he threatened me to stay away. He told me that if I ever tried to get near you again, he’d kill you. And I believed him, he had a really bad temper, you know.”

She continues, “That doesn’t mean I didn’t try to find you, but he kept moving around the country, making it impossible for me to keep up with you. I didn’t have the means to send a Private Investigator after you, because I was still studying. Once I had my degree and a steady income, I saved up all the money I could, to try and find you again. I don’t know if your father got tired of running, but I found you at last because he hasn’t moved around for quite some time now.
“I decided to take a job at the school where you were registered to slowly get to know you, before I would scare you off by telling you I was your long-lost-mother. But then someone found out my real name and I had to speed things up a little.”

Silence is filling up the classroom. Knowing his father, the story makes sense to Jordan. All his life, he was raised to believe his mother abandoned him, because she didn’t *want* him. The woman sitting in front of him; claims the opposite. Her big blue eyes are just like his, come to think of it. It’s like looking into a mirror, sending shivers down his spine.

“Jordan? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t know like, what to say, you know?”

“Take all the time you need. I understand this is too much for you all at once. I had the benefit here, because I already *knew* you are my son. I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but I would love to be part of your life again; if you can forgive me for all the years I’ve missed out on, to my regret of course.”

Jordan doesn’t know what to do, should he confront his father about the truth? Can he trust her? What’s like, the normal thing to do in a situation like this?

“And please, when we’re alone, you can call me Sarah. Or mom…” Ms Summers giggles.

“Oh, okay, I will, I guess… Just, not now.”

“That’s fine; as I said before, take your time. We can take things slow, you know?”

“Yeah, slow, that’s like, okay, I guess.” Suddenly Jordan remembers Angela telling him the exact same thing. It didn’t take long before they sped things up anyway, but luckily that turned out for the best.

Out of the blue, Jordan thinks of a quality he absolutely doesn’t share with his so-called mother. “You know, it’s like, ironic…”

“What is?”

“Well, there's like, a term for me. I'm a rudimentary reader with low literacy skills. And you’re like, an English teacher…”



[Supper time, Brian Krakow’s house]

Heating up his dinner in the microwave, the ringing doorbell takes Brian by surprise. His parents just went out, but surely they have their keys with them. Opening the door, he finds Rayanne standing on the porch. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Who did you expect, like, Angela?” Smirking, Rayanne walks through the hallways into the kitchen. “What’s that smell, Krakow?”

“I was heating up the dinner my parents left me.”

Before Brian has a chance to ask her anything, Rayanne has opened up the microwave and taken out the plate. After searching the drawers for cutlery, she takes a seat at the table and hungrily devours the meal.

“Hey, Graff, you want some of my dinner? Oh wait, you’ve helped yourself already. You’re like, in luck there’s another portion left!”

“Oh no, one portion will be like, fine!” Rayanne talks with her mouth full.

Sticking his head in the fridge, Brian comes out holding another portion of food to heat up. After heating it up, he takes his plate and takes a seat next to Rayanne. “So, why are you like, here anyway? Save for eating my food, obviously.”

Rayanne VO: “‘Why am I here?’ Don’t you get it, you idiot! He’s like, so clueless, I’m not sure it’s adorable or pathetic. Since I don’t do adorable, I’m settling for pathetic.”

“Let me finish first, then we’ll talk.” Rayanne continues eating.

Rayanne VO: “It’s not like I never tasted anything this good, it’s just, you know, home-cooked meals are so normal to so many people, but not to me. Amber’s cooking skills don’t stretch beyond blending some tropical looking cocktails. Wow, that and the lollipops, that already makes like, two food-groups!”

After her last bite, Rayanne shoves the plate away and watches Brian finish his meal. “I enjoyed the picture you like, spread around school today, Krakow! There’s an unexpected side to you…”

“I just *shot* it by accident, I didn’t mean for the whole school to see it, or anything.”

“By accident? You like, accidentally stumbled upon Catalano and Angelica making out? Yeah, right. Hey, unlike the rest of the world, I’m not judging you, you know? So, can you like, take pictures of me, looking like that?”

Spitting out the food in his mouth, Brian eyes Rayanne. “Looking like what exactly?”

“Dunno, erotic, I guess…”

“What is it exactly you want from me, Graff? You… you… you’re like, messing with me, aren’t you? You do stuff to me, but you push me away at the same time. I don’t get you!”

Rayanne VO: “I *always* keep my feelings out of it; I don’t get like, emotionally attached. That’s why -normally- I screw ‘em and dump ‘em; hey, they could be like, screwing me over instead, but whatever, It’s not like I give a crap. Anyway, before things have a chance to get like, more intense, I’m like, outta there! But I’m having trouble staying away from Krakow, I feel like a bloody whore who wants more.
The only thing I’m like, really committed to in my life, is my flask. Up until now it was the only thing I needed to survive, you know? It’s like; Krakow’s turned himself into this highly addicting drink or something, making me crave for more. But I’m not like, telling him that, no way! Keepin’ it cool, you know?”

“There’s like, nothing to get. Just go with the flow, Krakow. Don’t think. So, how about it? Got a studio here in the house?”

“Look, I’m not sure what you have in mind, but my equipment is like, upstairs.”

“Oh, your equipment… Well, let’s go upstairs then!”

Getting up from the table, Rayanne walks up the stairs. Unsure what to do, Brian lingers at the bottom of the stairs. When she disappears from sight, Brian decides to go up after her.

“So, is this like, your bedroom, Krakow? Oh, don’t tell me, you’re spying on Angela with this thingy up here…” Rayanne’s fingers glide over the camera installed nearby Brian’s window.

Rayanne VO: “Krakow’s bedroom is kinda like I pictured it. Crap, yeah, I pictured his bedroom; I stooped to the lowest levels, ugh. Anyway, it’s like, everything I expected, nothing exciting or anything, just neat and boyish and you know, average. God; why am I like, here again? I need a drink!”

“Please, don’t touch that, it’s very sensitive equipment.”

“Really… So, where should I sit? Right here, on the bed?” Plopping down on Brian’s bed, Rayanne sends Brian a sultry stare. “So, is your sensitive equipment like, ready for me?”

While Rayanne crawls towards him on her knees, Brian hastens to get the camera from the window ledge, almost tripping over his own feet. He’s not sure what Rayanne’s up to, but he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

“Whatever you do, don’t stop clicking, okay?” Slowly, Rayanne unbuttons her blouse, her fingers hesitating at times, slipping every button out of its hole carefully.

Rayanne VO: “I almost never feel insecure like, around boys or men, because I’m not used to being rejected. Maybe it’s because most of the time I’m like, totally wasted anyway and don’t know what the hell I’m doing and who I’m doing it to, I guess. But fuck it, I feel nervous now! Even pouring down the medicine my dear, beloved flask held for me, doesn’t like, take the edge of it. What if he suddenly realises I’m like, *not* Angela, then what?”

Through the lens of his camera, Brian’s eyes follow her movements. Her hands slide her blouse down from her shoulders, revealing a purple, lace bra. Trying to keep his head cool, Brian registers her beauty and boldness by clicking the camera. Her hands brush over her breasts lightly; her right hand traces further down over her belly. When her hand disappears from sight behind Rayanne’s skirt, Brian catches his breath. Her fingers are touching herself *there*, barely visible to him; but the knowledge is enough to set his insides on fire. A burning sensation flowing through his vanes numbs his entire body.

Lowering the camera; Brian’s throat feels dry as he speaks. “I can’t… You like, really expect me to…?”

“Whatever… How about putting the camera on that stick-thingy and helping a girl out here, Krakow?”

Rayanne VO: “God, it’s not even like I’m attracted to him or anything, or am I? I mean, looking at him when I’m sober, makes me wanna *puke*, you know? He makes me nauseous, and he like, confuses me with these unknown feelings that tie my stomach in this freaking obnoxious knot. At least when I’m like, wasted, I can blame the alcohol for wanting him. Alcohol makes me like; wanna hump almost everything in sight. Yup, I hate admitting it, but it’s like, the truth.”

Faster than he’s ever been, Brian sets up the camera on a tripod, adjusting it to its repeated self-timer-setting. Insecurely, he walks over to Rayanne. Her arm stretches out to embrace him, pulling him on top of her. Her lips crash into his in a hungry kiss, while the camera clicks away.




[Supper time, at the restaurant]

“Mom, please, can I go to Ryan’s party this weekend? Please, please, please?” Getting up from the table, Danielle smothers her mother in hugs and kisses.

“You’re still grounded, you know that! And I thought you and Ryan were ‘taking things slow’?”

“We are, but it’s just like, a party, you know, it’s not like I’m spending the night or anything!”

“Danielle! Trying to make your sister look bad isn’t helping you to look good, young lady! Besides, you may not have been with a boy that night, but you still stayed out without our permission!”

“But mom, please? All the kids in my class are going, I can’t miss this! I’ll do extra chores if you want me to, just, please, let me go!”

“I’ll think about it, okay? Hey, isn’t that Jordan Catalano?”

“Huh?”



Quickly, Angela gets up and walks to the door where her mother just spotted Jordan. “What are you doing here? I mean, not that I don’t like it, it’s just…”

“Can I like, talk to you?” Jordan licks his lips.

“Sure!”

Looking around, Angela finds an empty table where they sit down. Shifting in his seat, Jordan’s eyes avoid Angela’s.

“Jordan? What’s up?”

Locking his eyes onto Angela’s, Jordan blurts out abruptly, “She’s my mom.”

“She’s your mom? Who is?” Confused, Angela stares at Jordan when it hits her: Ms Summers is his mom. Turning white with shock, Angela’s brain doesn’t work and her lips can’t move anymore. God, he must be like, *shocked*. “For real?”

“I guess so, I mean, she had this picture of me when I was like, little. But I still can’t believe it. It’s like, she could be *anyone*, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. God, I’m sorry, but I still don’t know what to say.”

“Yeah, well, me too.” Jordan’s fingertips trace imaginary circles over the tablecloth until Angela takes hold of his hand.

“You okay?”

“I guess… I’m like, confused. Should I um, talk to my dad? Can I really trust her?”

“I don’t know; I can’t even imagine what it’s like, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, what did she say to you?”

“She um, she told me her side of the story, and it like, makes sense, you know? My dad, he like, threatened to harm me, if she looked me up. And we like, used to move around all the time. Now I know it wasn’t because of his job; it was to keep her from um, finding me.”

“God, no offence, but I already thought your father was a bastard before I even heard *her* side of the story!”

“Yeah, she could be, like, my ticket out of there, you know?”

“Would you like, want that… I mean, if she’s really your mom, would you go and live with her?”

“Yeah, I mean, anything’s better than living with my dad, I guess…”

“Yeah, I guess… Just, you know, be careful. I mean, you don’t really know her.”

“I know. But I want to, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand. It’s only natural, and she does seem like, nice and all.”

“I guess she does. It’d be like, nice to have someone around who cares for me.”

Angela gives Jordan an undignified look and withdraws her hand from his rapidly. His eyes meet hers and he hastens to say, “Besides you, I mean.” Baring his teeth, he grins at her.

“Oh, that was *just* in time, or you would have had to go to bed without supper, Mister!” Angela imitates a mother punishing her child.

“Hmm, supper sounds good.”

“You didn’t eat yet? Well, you’re in luck; your girlfriend’s dad happens to own a restaurant, so.”

“That’s not like, a fluke, you know?”

Both laughing, they get up to walk over to the table where Patty and Danielle are still sitting.



“Hey Jordan, how are you?” Patty greets him.

“Okay, thanks. Just, you know… hungry.”

“Oh, well, in that case; care to join us for dinner?”

“Yeah, thanks, Mrs C.” Jordan takes a seat at the table, next to Angela.

“So, Jordan, what’s up?”

“Can I like, ask your advice, on something, maybe?” Jordan has little trouble entrusting Patty with his problems, thinking back to the conversation they once had in the kitchen. Besides, Angela told him she’s like, adopted; so she’ll probably get what he’s going through.

“Why of course, Jordan, any time.”

“You see, I um, well, I never really knew my mother and now she’s like, back. Or I think she is. I’m like, confused and not sure what to do, you know?”

“Oh I see, well…” Taken by surprise by Jordan’s honesty, Patty also wonders why Angela never told her about Jordan’s mom.

“Aren’t there like, these tests, you can do, to see if someone’s your mother?” Angela asks; suppressing the words ‘Because I would like you to take one’; since they seem rather inappropriate in this situation.

“Well, it would be much simpler if she had a birth certificate of you, Jordan. And I’m pretty sure your father will be able to identify her, if that’s what you’re worried about. But if she really *is* your mom, don’t let the chance to get to know her pass you by. I don’t know what happened or what she did to you, but hear her out and give her a chance to explain. Denying a parent their child or denying a child either or both of its parents, is unforgivable and extremely regrettable.”

“Yeah, I guess my dad will like, recognize her. But I do wanna know her, so don’t worry.”

“Take them somewhere on neutral territory to meet though, that way they won’t make a big scene.”

“Okay, I will. So, what does like, neutral territory mean then?”

“It’s a public place, like a restaurant, or something.”

“Oh, like, this place, you mean?”

“Like this place, for example, yes.”

“So, is it like, okay? If I bring them here, I mean?”

Feeling flattered that Jordan trusts her enough to ask her advice; Patty never meant to get caught in the middle though. But she’s not going to stand in the way of that boy’s happiness either. She would have given anything to have met her birth mother, so she relates to him fully.

“We’d be honoured, Jordan.”


To be continued…

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Episode No. 32 - My So-Called Sweet Sixteen by Lady Guinevere
Published: 09 Jul 2010 | Size: 37 KB (6600 words) | Language: english english | Rating: PG-13
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Surprising gifts, developments and an unexpected confrontation turn Angela’s sixteenth birthday party into an evening she’ll never forget.

Read this story now: Episode No. 32 - My So-Called Sweet Sixteen
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“Lately, I can't even look at my mother without wanting to stab her repeatedly.”

Angela Chase, Episode 1: "My So-Called Life (Pilot)"