During yet another very dry and bleak holiday season, Simone Evans, a high school English teacher, finds herself in the most unlikely friendship with Jordan Jackson- an ex con.
**Mature Content**
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Later that night, Jordan looked at the time on his nightstand as he laid in bed. It was barely even 9pm yet, and already Simone was fast asleep. After ordering food to the house, eating, and taking a shower, she almost immediately fell asleep the second she laid down in his bed. But that's usual for her since she has to be up so early in the morning.
Actually they both have to be up extremely early, but Jordan can function on a lot less sleep than Simone can. If she doesn't get at least eight hours a night she's not very personable at all.
"Just make the damn call Jordan," he told himself.
He'd been staring at that piece of paper all night, trying to find the courage within himself to dial the number.
'Bianca Hernandez-Hall,' he kept reading over her name, repeating it over and over in his head. 'Hernandez-Hall... Hernandez-Hall..."
"So she's married," he told himself. "I wonder if she has other kids too... I wonder if I have siblings?"
He finally picked up his phone and went to the living room so he wouldn't wake Simone up. He turned on the lamp next to the couch and sat down with his phone in one hand and the number in the other. He finally called, but the line just rang and rang until he got her voicemail recording.
"Hello, you've reached the voicemail of Bianca Hall. Please leave a message at the tone and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you!"
But he immediately hung up after her voice recording ended. For some reason he couldn't do it. He got too nervous when he heard her once very familiar voice.
"How does she still sound exactly the same...?" Jordan felt a sort of tightening in his chest.
He hasn't seen or really spoken to the woman since he was about seven years old, yet she sounded just like he last remembered.
It took him a few minutes, but Jordan eventually called again. He ran his sweaty hands across his sweatpants as the phone rang, waiting for her voicemail message again, because this time he was ready. He planned out exactly what he was going to say in his head. He had a script, and he was going to stick to it.
"Hello?"
Only it wasn't her voicemail message, it was her— it was Bianca.
"Hello?" She repeated when Jordan didn't respond to her initial greeting.
"H— hi," his voice stuttered.
"May I ask who's calling?"
"This is uhm.... This is Jordan. Jordan Jackson. Your son," he spoke into the phone.
He was nervous, and definitely sounded it, but at least he pulled through enough to finally get the words out.
"Jordan...?" She sounded like she didn't believe him at all. "Is this some sick joke? Who is this for real?"
