Letters to Nowhere #1 (Completed!)

Letters to Nowhere: Part 16

Jordan froze in the center of the grocery store aisle, allowing his eyes to travel up and down the row of feminine products. "Who knew it was so complicated to be a girl."

            "You could just wait in the car," I hissed under my breath. "Seriously."

            He shrugged like this wasn't totally weird or anything. I turned my back to him and scanned the displays, looking for what I needed. He was right. It was complicated. Why did they have so many different colored boxes, and which applicator was easiest to use? All of them claimed to be the best, so how would I know?

            "Wow, there's extra long and super extra long." Jordan held a giant package of pads in each hand. "I wonder what the difference is in inches. Should we open them up to compare?"

            Oh. My. God.                                                     

            "And how does one know if they need wings or not?" he asked. "Have you ever tried flying one of these like a paper airplane?"

            I covered my face with my hands, sure that it would permanently match my red hair after tonight. "Can you not talk so loud, please?"

            He stuffed the packages back on the shelf. "Sorry."

            The slightly guilty expression he now wore made me think he might have actually been trying to make this more comfortable for me, though he failed miserably. But he probably hadn't intended to humiliate me. I grinned when I saw what was now right in front of me. I snatched a box of condoms from the shelf and tossed them at Jordan. He caught it midair with catlike reflexes.

            "Better safe than sorry," I teased. "You might not have me to interrupt you next time."

            "You could have given us hours more and I still wouldn't have needed these." He examined the box closely. "Besides, they're not extra large."

            I snorted a laugh.

            I found the correct size/style/color/scent of tampons and moved on to the beauty care aisle to get hair ties, gel, and bobby pins. Jordan kept fairly quiet, but seemed unable to stop himself from touching every item on the shelf like a four-year-old.

            It occurred to me after a few minutes that maybe he was nervous, though I couldn't imagine why.

            "So, what's he like?" Jordan asked after the weird silence had fallen on us for much too long. "As a coach, anyway?"

            "Your dad?" He nodded. "He's different from my old coach."

            "Like how?" He sounded totally casual, but I could hear something hidden behind his words. Something more than curiosity.

            "He's quiet. So much that sometimes I'm screaming corrections inside my own head just to fill the space."

            "He knows exactly what he's doing, too," Jordan said. "By not saying anything. It's like my head is spinning sometimes, trying to gauge how pissed he is or if he even gives a shit at all."

            "Exactly." My eyes met his, knowing that even though we had these thoughts in common, all this was different for me. I didn't need Coach Bentley to give a shit about me. But Jordan did. It's his dad. It was also none of my business, so I redirected the conversation. "He totally screwed with my head today. It was genius. Complete genius."

            I explained the deal we had made with the new release move and all the requirements that now rested on me.

            Jordan laughed really hard as the checkout lady bagged up my items. "Oh man, he's good. Very good."

            "I know, right?"

In the car, I decided to distract myself by asking him some personal questions. "So what's her name? Your girlfriend?"

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