All I Need: First MSCL fanfic!
Posted: Jun 20th 2007, 6:06 pm
Angela slips out the door, carefully running down her front steps while peering out from under her umbrella. The rain falls steadily, pouring all around her while her face lights up in recognition at something in front of her. She smiles and slides into a red Pontiac convertible.
It’s been three months since the letter, but in all the scenarios I ran through my mind back then, I never really thought it would turn out like this. I don’t even know what this is, really. I guess I should start at the beginning. At first, I was upset. No, that’s the understatement of the century…
“Stop the car, Jordan.” Angela says flatly. This is the first time she has dared to look at him for the duration of the ride. He glances up at her through the hair falling into his eyes, sees her face is deadly serious, and moves to pull the car to the side of the road. She looks at her hands crumpled together in her lap, and then takes a deep breath before starting to speak.
“Angela – ” he begins.
“Look – ” she says, then looks up at him once more. “You, um, you go.”
“I-I just think you should know, you know, that I… didn’t really write that letter,” he stumbles. “I like, wanted to. So bad. To be able to. I just, I tried, and I didn’t know how to say… what I really wanted to say. I knew I would just screw up again. And all I wanted was like, for you to look at me that way again. And then you did, and I just couldn’t tell you the truth.” Angela openly stares at him, biting her lip. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, this is what I had been waiting for. For like months. And that’s when I did possibly the first smart thing I had ever done when it came to Jordan Catalano. Or maybe the stupidest.
“Um, Jordan? I think… I think it’s really great that you told me all that. I do, I really appreciate it. I just need some time to work all this out. And maybe it’d be better for us to just be friends. For now, at least. I don’t know.” He looks down, quickly masking his disappointment and hurt.
“Friends, yeah. Okay, like, friends who make out?” he half-smiles while gauging her reaction. She looks stricken for a second, then laughs suddenly and shoves his shoulder gently. He smiles broadly, genuinely. “Just thought I’d ask.”
Angela sits in his car as he drives, talking animatedly about his band, on the way to school. She tucks her hair behind her ear and looks back up at him. So now, we’re friends. Friends who make out? No. But there have been a few slip-ups along the way. Sometimes I’ll accidentally catch him looking at my lips while I’m talking, or he’ll grab my hand on impulse and fold it inside his own. Being together is like this habit that we can’t just break. Not that I’ve been trying that hard. She nods and smiles widely in response to something he has said.
They arrive in the parking lot, and open their respective doors. Someone calls out to Angela and she grins and quickly waves goodbye to Jordan. Rickie appears and falls into step with her as Rayanne links her arm inside Angela’s. And then there’s Rayanne. How could I not forgive her? It took a while for her to, like, work up the nerve to apologize. I guess Sharon convinced her somehow. Things are still a little awkward all around though. Angela gazes at Brian Krakow and he returns the stare. They are walking in opposite directions, but he stops as she gives him a small smile and a little wave. He smiles back at her shyly but resumes walking as soon she passes by. Rayanne continues pulling Angela down the hall, flailing her unconnected arm around dramatically. They stop at Angela’s locker, as Rayanne carries on and Rickie rolls his eyes. Angela smiles knowingly at him as Delia and Sharon approach and everyone exchanges greetings. Angela tunes out as they discuss something. Brian and I were never really the same after what happened. We talked, that night, though.
Angela gets out of Jordan’s car and turns to look at the Krakow’s house. She sees Brian up in his window and pauses to think. I always thought Brian was the one who hated change, who wanted to prevent me from growing up, from outgrowing him. I never realized that he could develop feelings for me. But he had changed, more than I ever expected, and I realized I hated that change more than anything. Suddenly she begins to march determinedly towards his house. Moments later, they are sitting on the steps to his front porch, both with their hands on their knees.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Brian says without pretense. Angela breaks her downward stare and looks up at him, surprised. “I know that you’re like, in love with Jordan Catalano, and that nothing could change that. I just hoped… I don’t know what I hoped.” He looks down.
“Brian… God, I wish that I could tell you you’re wrong. I wish that I could like you like that, but I think… You’re just such a good friend, and I’ve known you for so long that I can’t like, see you that way.”
After that, we kind of went our separate ways. Rickie tells me what he’s up to sometimes, that he’s taking a new class at the community college or whatever. But he never stops by just to ask me a stupid question or to lend me something. He was always this constant in my life, no matter what else was changing. And I guess I kind of miss that. She smiles sadly, returning to the present conversation in which Sharon is complaining about Kyle. The bell rings and she begins to walk to class with Sharon as Rickie and Delia head off in another direction.
Angela pulls the passenger side door to Jordan’s car shut as she climbs in and buckles her seatbelt. She looks over at him as he starts the car.
I used to dread going to school, suffering through long classes and navigating the halls. My only refuge was coming home after school to my dad making me a snack. Now I dread coming home. Even before Dad left, towards the end, he was barely here. Now that he doesn’t live with us, and he has the restaurant to worry about, we only see him every two weeks. I remember the night he left, though, so clearly.
Angela closes the front door gently so as not to disturb the quiet, darkened house. She leans against the door, smiling, and turns towards the kitchen. Started, she looks at Patty, whose body is turned directly towards the refrigerator, her palms and forehead lying flat against the vertical surface, shoulders bent forward heavily, as if the triangle connecting her to the fridge is the only thing keeping her upright. Slowly, she turns towards Angela. It is clear that she has been crying: her eyes are puffy, cheeks pale and tear-stained in the moonlight flooding from the window, and her mouth curled into a frown too depressed to be surprised at Angela’s entrance. Angela goes to her, pulls her into a tight hug as Patty collapses against her, arms falling onto Angela’s shoulders awkwardly as she relaxes into the embrace.
Dad moved in with my uncle Neil a month and a half ago. Mom’s never talked about it with me, but I know it was because of his business partner, Hallie Lowenthal. They’re not divorced yet, or anything, but I can’t help feeling it’s just a matter of time. And that when it finally happens, she’ll just break. She tries to stay strong, but she’s working too many hours and everyone can tell she’s not okay. The only good thing to come out of this whole thing is that we’re actually a lot closer.
“So… do you wanna go somewhere?” Jordan asks, peering at Angela from underneath some of his shoulder-length hair, left hand draped over the steering wheel casually.
“Anywhere,” Angela replies, smiling. He grins back at her.
“I’m kinda hungry. You want something to eat?” he questions. She smiles, nods, and tucks her stray hair behind her ear.
They sit across from each other in the booth of a pizza place, eating and laughing. He is twisting his ring around his finger compulsively, and she reaches out a hand to stop it. She leaves her fingers lying on top of his. His eyes scan from where their hands meet up towards her face and look into her eyes kindly. “So, Tino’s having this party on Friday. Do you wanna go?” he asks softly. She gives him a surprised but delighted smile.
“Oh! Yeah. That sounds good,” she says, then pauses, frowning slightly. Is he asking me, like on a date? No, no, it can’t be a date. Why am I still trying to turn every little thing he says into something bigger? “I mean, I’ll have to see what I’m doing, but yeah. That could be fun.” Jordan looks wounded then carefully hides his disappointment at her response by looking down for a moment. He slowly withdraws his fingers and sets them on the edge of the table, tapping a little bit.
“Yeah, I mean, I might check it out. But you should come. With your friends. Maybe I’ll see you there or something.” Angela too appears hurt, but masks her sorrow by shyly smiling at him. “I should get you back, right?” Another weird thing? My mom and Jordan had like, created this, this bond. They like, talked. About stuff. I guess I’m still getting used to the idea.
Angela exits Jordan’s car and turns to wave to the disappearing form halfway up the path to her front door. She enters her house and is immediately bombarded by a bouncing Danielle. “Is he your boyfriend?” She asks, whining slightly.
“No! No. I don’t know,” she admits. She fidgets with the sleeve of her flannel shirt and glances at the floor.
“Well, Mom says you spend an awful lot of time with him for someone who’s not your boyfriend. Ryan says you guys are probably doing it.”
“Danielle!” Patty swoops in, throwing an arm around Danielle’s shoulders as a gesture of both love and irritation. Angela simply glares at both of them. “I was just telling Camille that I thought it was good that the two of you are still friends. And, you’re not… you know… are you?” She smiles, tightly, worried.
“Mom! God! How can you even ask me that?” she rolls her eyes. “I’ll be in my room.” It’s weird, though, to think about. I always thought I’d lose my virginity to Jordan, and sometimes I still think maybe I will. But now that we’re not, like, together… I just can’t picture it happening. At this point, I am just like, embarrassingly far from anything.
Rickie and Angela walk down the hallway, talking excitedly. Rayanne jogs to catch up them. She walks backwards, facing them, as she talks. “Okay, tonight! The three of us are going out! Just like old times. Tino’s having a party and it’s gonna be so awesome! We are gonna have so much fun.” Angela and Rickie look at each other, smiling awkwardly.
“Actually, we were just talking about that,” Rickie replies. Rayanne looks shocked and a little disheartened. “Jordan invited her. But you are so coming with.”
“Coming with, yeah…”
Angela, Rayanne, and Rickie enter through the front door of Tino’s house. Rayanne is dressed extravagantly, with her hair up in countless braids with a ribbon tying it all together, eyes painted in bluish eye shadow and lips stained a dark red. Angela is slightly dressed up in a black dress and has heavier makeup than usual. Though their styles are completely different, they both look beautiful. Rayanne, immediately seeing someone she knows, deserts them at the front door. There are people crowding in every direction, but Angela scans the masses until she sees Jordan among a group of guys. He is facing her, not really participating in the conversation around him. She smiles at him and does a little wave. He nods up at her and pushes off the wall he has been leaning on, cutting through the group to meet her. Rickie, looking distracted, quickly excuses himself just as Jordan arrives to greet them.
“Hey,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Hey. You made it. You want something to drink?” She shakes her head in response. He puts a palm to the small of her back and guides her out of the doorway as more people come in. She leans back against the wall, looking up at his figure looming over her. The left side of his body is pressed against the wall with his arm leaning by her head. His right hand is in his jacket pocket, fidgeting with something inside.
Rickie rushes over to where Angela and Jordan are standing in the living room. He tries to make eye contact with Angela, but failing, reaches out to touch Angela’s arm. She starts, but then sees the look on Rickie’s face, full of worry. “I need your help, just for a few minutes. It’s Rayanne. Tino said he’d drive us home, but I have to go find him first.” Angela bites her lip in distress and looks up at Jordan regretfully. Rickie anxiously waits during their interaction.
“Do you need any help?” Jordan implores hopefully.
“No, I should just deal with her myself. Go find your friends, have fun. I’ll see you later.” Rickie pulls her away through the crowd, but she looks back to see him watching her leave. She turns her attention back to Rickie, but smiles softly. They reach the bathroom and enter, where Rayanne is throwing up forcefully. Rickie leans over her and pulls her hair back.
“Can you just stay with her? Make sure she stays over the toilet and have her drink some water. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Rickie moves towards the door as Angela imitates his earlier actions, pulling her tiny braids away from her face. Suddenly, Rayanne seems to gain more conscious thought, twisting her head around and glaring at Angela. She flushes the toilet and wipes her mouth off with the back of her hand.
“Don’t touch me. I’m fine. Just leave me alone.” Angela, surprised and confused, just looks at her, open-mouthed as Rayanne pulls at her clothes clumsily in a failed attempt to straighten them out.
“God! I was just trying to help,” she says, then softens her voice. “Here, do you want some water?” She picks up a glass already full and tries to hand it to Rayanne. Rayanne simply glares deeper.
“I don’t need help. I don’t need anything. Especially from you.”
“What are you saying?” Angela’s voice and face distort in anguish.
“Oh, Ang-ela. You’re a smart girl, you can figure out, can’t you? You’re so perfect. You think you’re so much better than me. Well, I don’t need Little Miss Perfect,” she said it so deliberately that each word cut Angela to the bone.
“Why are you saying this, doing this?” Angela pleads. “I need you! I need you to not drink! I thought you were serious about this. You told me you’d quit drinking for real, and you just betrayed me. Again.” Rayanne visibly shrinks back at this, staring at Angela from her crumpled position on the bathroom floor. Angela just gazes back at her with equal intensity, the force of the combination of hurt and disappointment and adoration too much for her to say anymore. Rickie bursts through the door at this point, looking from Angela to Rayanne and back again. He pulls Rayanne to her feet and slides her arm around his neck.
“We’ve gotta go. Tino’s waiting out front and if I don’t get home soon, Mr. Katimski will have a conniption. Look, whatever she said… she didn’t mean it. She’s just drunk, don’t worry about it,” he laid a hand on her forearm in comfort as he shifted Rayanne’s body against him. “You coming?” She shakes her head.
“No, I…I just can’t be near her right now.” Rickie nods, understanding her decision, but sad about it, both for Angela and himself.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He kissed her cheek in farewell.
“Rickie… Rickie baby, let’s go. I’m tired,” Rayanne pleads, collapsed alongside Rickie’s body. She giggles and hiccups “See? Just like old times.” Rickie looks Angela apologetically one last time as he pulls Rayanne out of the house. Angela shuts the bathroom and leans against it momentarily. She goes to the sink and splashes water on her face. She gazes at herself in the mirror, her makeup smeared but reparable, her eyes still dark with anger. Slowly, she fixes her makeup and prepares herself to go back to the party.
She opens the door, intent on finding Jordan for a ride home, or just to cheer herself up. She weaves her way through the hoards, making her way back to where she had seen him last. When she finds him, he is leaning in a similar position, with a pretty, curvy blonde girl smiling up at him in her place. She is flirting with him obviously, fingering the bottom of his jacket and laughing at something he says. Angela takes a deep breath as she sees him smiling back at the blonde and spins around quickly. She knocks into a guy carrying a beer, which tips over and pours all over her chest. She only sighs resignedly, and hurries back to the refuge of bathroom.
She tries to wet her dress in the sink, but to no avail. The last thing she needs is to walk home, smelling like beer. She braces herself against the sink, once again staring at herself in the mirror. She hears a sharp knock against the bathroom door and opens it quickly, annoyed and expecting (maybe hoping) Jordan will be there. Instead, it is the guy who spilled beer all over her. He smiles sheepishly.
“Hey, I just wanted to apologize and, you know, take the opportunity to introduce myself. It’s not everyday I get to make a fool of myself in front of a beautiful girl. I’m Chris.” Angela just looks at him, surprised and flattered. She studies his face, his body, carefully. He isn’t strikingly handsome at first glance, but he wasn’t plain either. He is tall, taller than Jordan, but had a lanky quality to him. He has blonde hair, cut just short of his ears, warm brown eyes, and a single dimple on the right side of his smile.
“Angela,” she replies warily.
“It’s nice to meet you, Angela. Can I get you a drink? I seem to have misplaced mine.” She smiles at him and nods as he takes her hand and leads her through the crowd. Do not look at Jordan Catalano. Do not look at Jordan Catalano. She tries to casually glance at Jordan and sees him talking to the same girl, though this time he notices her in return. He looks concerned and makes a small gesture as if to leave, to follow her, but Angela just turns away from his stare, following Chris into the kitchen where the keg is situated. She hides a small smile at Jordan’s reaction and accepts the beer Chris has poured for her. They relocate to a couch in the living room, in plain view of Jordan and the unnamed blonde. She refuses to look behind her at them though, and instead focuses her attention on Chris, smiling as he talks to and flirts with her. Okay, I admit, at first I was only talking to him because of Jordan. But now, he’s funny, and good-looking, and very charming. And I need to get over Jordan Catalano. I mean, he’s obviously over me.
It’s been three months since the letter, but in all the scenarios I ran through my mind back then, I never really thought it would turn out like this. I don’t even know what this is, really. I guess I should start at the beginning. At first, I was upset. No, that’s the understatement of the century…
“Stop the car, Jordan.” Angela says flatly. This is the first time she has dared to look at him for the duration of the ride. He glances up at her through the hair falling into his eyes, sees her face is deadly serious, and moves to pull the car to the side of the road. She looks at her hands crumpled together in her lap, and then takes a deep breath before starting to speak.
“Angela – ” he begins.
“Look – ” she says, then looks up at him once more. “You, um, you go.”
“I-I just think you should know, you know, that I… didn’t really write that letter,” he stumbles. “I like, wanted to. So bad. To be able to. I just, I tried, and I didn’t know how to say… what I really wanted to say. I knew I would just screw up again. And all I wanted was like, for you to look at me that way again. And then you did, and I just couldn’t tell you the truth.” Angela openly stares at him, biting her lip. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, this is what I had been waiting for. For like months. And that’s when I did possibly the first smart thing I had ever done when it came to Jordan Catalano. Or maybe the stupidest.
“Um, Jordan? I think… I think it’s really great that you told me all that. I do, I really appreciate it. I just need some time to work all this out. And maybe it’d be better for us to just be friends. For now, at least. I don’t know.” He looks down, quickly masking his disappointment and hurt.
“Friends, yeah. Okay, like, friends who make out?” he half-smiles while gauging her reaction. She looks stricken for a second, then laughs suddenly and shoves his shoulder gently. He smiles broadly, genuinely. “Just thought I’d ask.”
Angela sits in his car as he drives, talking animatedly about his band, on the way to school. She tucks her hair behind her ear and looks back up at him. So now, we’re friends. Friends who make out? No. But there have been a few slip-ups along the way. Sometimes I’ll accidentally catch him looking at my lips while I’m talking, or he’ll grab my hand on impulse and fold it inside his own. Being together is like this habit that we can’t just break. Not that I’ve been trying that hard. She nods and smiles widely in response to something he has said.
They arrive in the parking lot, and open their respective doors. Someone calls out to Angela and she grins and quickly waves goodbye to Jordan. Rickie appears and falls into step with her as Rayanne links her arm inside Angela’s. And then there’s Rayanne. How could I not forgive her? It took a while for her to, like, work up the nerve to apologize. I guess Sharon convinced her somehow. Things are still a little awkward all around though. Angela gazes at Brian Krakow and he returns the stare. They are walking in opposite directions, but he stops as she gives him a small smile and a little wave. He smiles back at her shyly but resumes walking as soon she passes by. Rayanne continues pulling Angela down the hall, flailing her unconnected arm around dramatically. They stop at Angela’s locker, as Rayanne carries on and Rickie rolls his eyes. Angela smiles knowingly at him as Delia and Sharon approach and everyone exchanges greetings. Angela tunes out as they discuss something. Brian and I were never really the same after what happened. We talked, that night, though.
Angela gets out of Jordan’s car and turns to look at the Krakow’s house. She sees Brian up in his window and pauses to think. I always thought Brian was the one who hated change, who wanted to prevent me from growing up, from outgrowing him. I never realized that he could develop feelings for me. But he had changed, more than I ever expected, and I realized I hated that change more than anything. Suddenly she begins to march determinedly towards his house. Moments later, they are sitting on the steps to his front porch, both with their hands on their knees.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Brian says without pretense. Angela breaks her downward stare and looks up at him, surprised. “I know that you’re like, in love with Jordan Catalano, and that nothing could change that. I just hoped… I don’t know what I hoped.” He looks down.
“Brian… God, I wish that I could tell you you’re wrong. I wish that I could like you like that, but I think… You’re just such a good friend, and I’ve known you for so long that I can’t like, see you that way.”
After that, we kind of went our separate ways. Rickie tells me what he’s up to sometimes, that he’s taking a new class at the community college or whatever. But he never stops by just to ask me a stupid question or to lend me something. He was always this constant in my life, no matter what else was changing. And I guess I kind of miss that. She smiles sadly, returning to the present conversation in which Sharon is complaining about Kyle. The bell rings and she begins to walk to class with Sharon as Rickie and Delia head off in another direction.
Angela pulls the passenger side door to Jordan’s car shut as she climbs in and buckles her seatbelt. She looks over at him as he starts the car.
I used to dread going to school, suffering through long classes and navigating the halls. My only refuge was coming home after school to my dad making me a snack. Now I dread coming home. Even before Dad left, towards the end, he was barely here. Now that he doesn’t live with us, and he has the restaurant to worry about, we only see him every two weeks. I remember the night he left, though, so clearly.
Angela closes the front door gently so as not to disturb the quiet, darkened house. She leans against the door, smiling, and turns towards the kitchen. Started, she looks at Patty, whose body is turned directly towards the refrigerator, her palms and forehead lying flat against the vertical surface, shoulders bent forward heavily, as if the triangle connecting her to the fridge is the only thing keeping her upright. Slowly, she turns towards Angela. It is clear that she has been crying: her eyes are puffy, cheeks pale and tear-stained in the moonlight flooding from the window, and her mouth curled into a frown too depressed to be surprised at Angela’s entrance. Angela goes to her, pulls her into a tight hug as Patty collapses against her, arms falling onto Angela’s shoulders awkwardly as she relaxes into the embrace.
Dad moved in with my uncle Neil a month and a half ago. Mom’s never talked about it with me, but I know it was because of his business partner, Hallie Lowenthal. They’re not divorced yet, or anything, but I can’t help feeling it’s just a matter of time. And that when it finally happens, she’ll just break. She tries to stay strong, but she’s working too many hours and everyone can tell she’s not okay. The only good thing to come out of this whole thing is that we’re actually a lot closer.
“So… do you wanna go somewhere?” Jordan asks, peering at Angela from underneath some of his shoulder-length hair, left hand draped over the steering wheel casually.
“Anywhere,” Angela replies, smiling. He grins back at her.
“I’m kinda hungry. You want something to eat?” he questions. She smiles, nods, and tucks her stray hair behind her ear.
They sit across from each other in the booth of a pizza place, eating and laughing. He is twisting his ring around his finger compulsively, and she reaches out a hand to stop it. She leaves her fingers lying on top of his. His eyes scan from where their hands meet up towards her face and look into her eyes kindly. “So, Tino’s having this party on Friday. Do you wanna go?” he asks softly. She gives him a surprised but delighted smile.
“Oh! Yeah. That sounds good,” she says, then pauses, frowning slightly. Is he asking me, like on a date? No, no, it can’t be a date. Why am I still trying to turn every little thing he says into something bigger? “I mean, I’ll have to see what I’m doing, but yeah. That could be fun.” Jordan looks wounded then carefully hides his disappointment at her response by looking down for a moment. He slowly withdraws his fingers and sets them on the edge of the table, tapping a little bit.
“Yeah, I mean, I might check it out. But you should come. With your friends. Maybe I’ll see you there or something.” Angela too appears hurt, but masks her sorrow by shyly smiling at him. “I should get you back, right?” Another weird thing? My mom and Jordan had like, created this, this bond. They like, talked. About stuff. I guess I’m still getting used to the idea.
Angela exits Jordan’s car and turns to wave to the disappearing form halfway up the path to her front door. She enters her house and is immediately bombarded by a bouncing Danielle. “Is he your boyfriend?” She asks, whining slightly.
“No! No. I don’t know,” she admits. She fidgets with the sleeve of her flannel shirt and glances at the floor.
“Well, Mom says you spend an awful lot of time with him for someone who’s not your boyfriend. Ryan says you guys are probably doing it.”
“Danielle!” Patty swoops in, throwing an arm around Danielle’s shoulders as a gesture of both love and irritation. Angela simply glares at both of them. “I was just telling Camille that I thought it was good that the two of you are still friends. And, you’re not… you know… are you?” She smiles, tightly, worried.
“Mom! God! How can you even ask me that?” she rolls her eyes. “I’ll be in my room.” It’s weird, though, to think about. I always thought I’d lose my virginity to Jordan, and sometimes I still think maybe I will. But now that we’re not, like, together… I just can’t picture it happening. At this point, I am just like, embarrassingly far from anything.
Rickie and Angela walk down the hallway, talking excitedly. Rayanne jogs to catch up them. She walks backwards, facing them, as she talks. “Okay, tonight! The three of us are going out! Just like old times. Tino’s having a party and it’s gonna be so awesome! We are gonna have so much fun.” Angela and Rickie look at each other, smiling awkwardly.
“Actually, we were just talking about that,” Rickie replies. Rayanne looks shocked and a little disheartened. “Jordan invited her. But you are so coming with.”
“Coming with, yeah…”
Angela, Rayanne, and Rickie enter through the front door of Tino’s house. Rayanne is dressed extravagantly, with her hair up in countless braids with a ribbon tying it all together, eyes painted in bluish eye shadow and lips stained a dark red. Angela is slightly dressed up in a black dress and has heavier makeup than usual. Though their styles are completely different, they both look beautiful. Rayanne, immediately seeing someone she knows, deserts them at the front door. There are people crowding in every direction, but Angela scans the masses until she sees Jordan among a group of guys. He is facing her, not really participating in the conversation around him. She smiles at him and does a little wave. He nods up at her and pushes off the wall he has been leaning on, cutting through the group to meet her. Rickie, looking distracted, quickly excuses himself just as Jordan arrives to greet them.
“Hey,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Hey. You made it. You want something to drink?” She shakes her head in response. He puts a palm to the small of her back and guides her out of the doorway as more people come in. She leans back against the wall, looking up at his figure looming over her. The left side of his body is pressed against the wall with his arm leaning by her head. His right hand is in his jacket pocket, fidgeting with something inside.
Rickie rushes over to where Angela and Jordan are standing in the living room. He tries to make eye contact with Angela, but failing, reaches out to touch Angela’s arm. She starts, but then sees the look on Rickie’s face, full of worry. “I need your help, just for a few minutes. It’s Rayanne. Tino said he’d drive us home, but I have to go find him first.” Angela bites her lip in distress and looks up at Jordan regretfully. Rickie anxiously waits during their interaction.
“Do you need any help?” Jordan implores hopefully.
“No, I should just deal with her myself. Go find your friends, have fun. I’ll see you later.” Rickie pulls her away through the crowd, but she looks back to see him watching her leave. She turns her attention back to Rickie, but smiles softly. They reach the bathroom and enter, where Rayanne is throwing up forcefully. Rickie leans over her and pulls her hair back.
“Can you just stay with her? Make sure she stays over the toilet and have her drink some water. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Rickie moves towards the door as Angela imitates his earlier actions, pulling her tiny braids away from her face. Suddenly, Rayanne seems to gain more conscious thought, twisting her head around and glaring at Angela. She flushes the toilet and wipes her mouth off with the back of her hand.
“Don’t touch me. I’m fine. Just leave me alone.” Angela, surprised and confused, just looks at her, open-mouthed as Rayanne pulls at her clothes clumsily in a failed attempt to straighten them out.
“God! I was just trying to help,” she says, then softens her voice. “Here, do you want some water?” She picks up a glass already full and tries to hand it to Rayanne. Rayanne simply glares deeper.
“I don’t need help. I don’t need anything. Especially from you.”
“What are you saying?” Angela’s voice and face distort in anguish.
“Oh, Ang-ela. You’re a smart girl, you can figure out, can’t you? You’re so perfect. You think you’re so much better than me. Well, I don’t need Little Miss Perfect,” she said it so deliberately that each word cut Angela to the bone.
“Why are you saying this, doing this?” Angela pleads. “I need you! I need you to not drink! I thought you were serious about this. You told me you’d quit drinking for real, and you just betrayed me. Again.” Rayanne visibly shrinks back at this, staring at Angela from her crumpled position on the bathroom floor. Angela just gazes back at her with equal intensity, the force of the combination of hurt and disappointment and adoration too much for her to say anymore. Rickie bursts through the door at this point, looking from Angela to Rayanne and back again. He pulls Rayanne to her feet and slides her arm around his neck.
“We’ve gotta go. Tino’s waiting out front and if I don’t get home soon, Mr. Katimski will have a conniption. Look, whatever she said… she didn’t mean it. She’s just drunk, don’t worry about it,” he laid a hand on her forearm in comfort as he shifted Rayanne’s body against him. “You coming?” She shakes her head.
“No, I…I just can’t be near her right now.” Rickie nods, understanding her decision, but sad about it, both for Angela and himself.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He kissed her cheek in farewell.
“Rickie… Rickie baby, let’s go. I’m tired,” Rayanne pleads, collapsed alongside Rickie’s body. She giggles and hiccups “See? Just like old times.” Rickie looks Angela apologetically one last time as he pulls Rayanne out of the house. Angela shuts the bathroom and leans against it momentarily. She goes to the sink and splashes water on her face. She gazes at herself in the mirror, her makeup smeared but reparable, her eyes still dark with anger. Slowly, she fixes her makeup and prepares herself to go back to the party.
She opens the door, intent on finding Jordan for a ride home, or just to cheer herself up. She weaves her way through the hoards, making her way back to where she had seen him last. When she finds him, he is leaning in a similar position, with a pretty, curvy blonde girl smiling up at him in her place. She is flirting with him obviously, fingering the bottom of his jacket and laughing at something he says. Angela takes a deep breath as she sees him smiling back at the blonde and spins around quickly. She knocks into a guy carrying a beer, which tips over and pours all over her chest. She only sighs resignedly, and hurries back to the refuge of bathroom.
She tries to wet her dress in the sink, but to no avail. The last thing she needs is to walk home, smelling like beer. She braces herself against the sink, once again staring at herself in the mirror. She hears a sharp knock against the bathroom door and opens it quickly, annoyed and expecting (maybe hoping) Jordan will be there. Instead, it is the guy who spilled beer all over her. He smiles sheepishly.
“Hey, I just wanted to apologize and, you know, take the opportunity to introduce myself. It’s not everyday I get to make a fool of myself in front of a beautiful girl. I’m Chris.” Angela just looks at him, surprised and flattered. She studies his face, his body, carefully. He isn’t strikingly handsome at first glance, but he wasn’t plain either. He is tall, taller than Jordan, but had a lanky quality to him. He has blonde hair, cut just short of his ears, warm brown eyes, and a single dimple on the right side of his smile.
“Angela,” she replies warily.
“It’s nice to meet you, Angela. Can I get you a drink? I seem to have misplaced mine.” She smiles at him and nods as he takes her hand and leads her through the crowd. Do not look at Jordan Catalano. Do not look at Jordan Catalano. She tries to casually glance at Jordan and sees him talking to the same girl, though this time he notices her in return. He looks concerned and makes a small gesture as if to leave, to follow her, but Angela just turns away from his stare, following Chris into the kitchen where the keg is situated. She hides a small smile at Jordan’s reaction and accepts the beer Chris has poured for her. They relocate to a couch in the living room, in plain view of Jordan and the unnamed blonde. She refuses to look behind her at them though, and instead focuses her attention on Chris, smiling as he talks to and flirts with her. Okay, I admit, at first I was only talking to him because of Jordan. But now, he’s funny, and good-looking, and very charming. And I need to get over Jordan Catalano. I mean, he’s obviously over me.