I Wish I Were Heather

Chapter 12 "I'm somebody you use, but never own"

~Macaria~

1/8/24

Not showing up under the bleachers of the running truck at two o'clock that Thursday crossed my mind. I really thought it through, hesitating the second my feet walked through the Hermes' faculty. I turned the corner to the printer room, holding the key in my hand, and I knew my will was lost just like I knew Jordan didn't have that issue. I saw it in his usual careless attitude as he smoked a cigarette next to the bleachers.

Nothing had changed at all, I wasn't sure if that should have scared me.

"I wasn't going to show up." The sudden sound of my voice made Jordan turn around, he already had a lit cigarette for me.

"You lie." He handed me the cigarette. "You don't like to feel like you and I won't meet weekly again."

I grabbed what he offered me abruptly, with rage. If there was something I hated, that was having my words used against me. Sometimes I felt like taking back every letter I had ever spoken, so Jordan's brilliant memory was annoying as fuck.

"That was before we found a corpse at the beach." The traces of that black eye he had proudly showed off for the past couple of days were my main focus as my mouth welcomed the poison. "Also before you fought my boyfriend at the wake of a common acquaintance."

Addressing Sean as 'acquaintance' made me feel guilty, I really didn't have a strong relationship with him but 'acquaintance' felt too cold... just like his lifeless body laid on the sand.

"He's not your boyfriend, M&M's." He mumbled unclearly, with smoke leaving his mouth.

And it hurt; it hurt because it was true.

"He's Heather's boyfriend. How does she feel about the broken lip in the mouth she kisses when we don't look?" I snapped with unhealthy and fleeting bitterness. Somewhere very deep in Jordan's chest it also hurt him. I saw it in the side -deadly- look he gave me right away.

I walked closer, leaning on the same piece of metal as him, which left our arms brushing.

"How convenient then that it hurts him every time he sucks the soul out of her mouth." His following drag was furious. "I'm not on good terms with Heather. Not since she fucked that preppy douchebag... Fuckers. Both of them." Another furious drag.

I took the cigarette from his hand so he would look at me and stop smoking like his life depended on it. I earned a murdering gaze.

"She fucks her boyfriend, you can't have jealousy drives leading into fights because she's in love."

The Twelve Olympians knew how much I hated to stand up for her, but we had the same interest in keeping Atlas' lips free from injuries.

"At the wake, on my bed, in my dorm. She asked for my key to fuck him over my mattress, I never imagined the idea of Heather coming on my sheets would make me so repulsive."

I saw it and I understood it. There, in his dark eyes, I found the cue that assured me Jordan was more than angry. He was hurt.

Oh, Jordan Crowe, welcome to the club of the collateral damage of Heather Harvey's love.

The deal? I didn't know that part of the story. It stabbed me in the chest just as bloodily as it stabbed Jordan.

"I was with Atlas at all times since we stepped into the house until some minutes before the police arrived. We were playing beer-pong between laughs, he kissed me every time we scored a point. I think that..." My eyes lit up like every time I talked about him. My voice tone raised to the stratosphere in delight, in love. Yet Jordan... Jordan rolled his eyes vanishing the cloud that was taking me to a dreamy reality.