Stepbrother

28: Pack

I walk up the stairs, sighing tiredly to myself after a long day at school. I'm glad, though. Speak to Sean has definitely changed the weight of guilt on my shoulders, and I no longer feel like I'm keeping secrets from Sean.

I make it to the top of the steps and look to the left to catch a glimpse of Jordan dropping a suitcase in the middle of the hallway. It makes a loud thumping noise, then Jordan looks up at me to give me a small smile. I walk towards him, sending him a questioning look.

"We need to start packing," Jordan tells me, answering my unasked question.

"Packing? For what?" I ask him, a bit bewildered. I prop the suitcase up, rolling it down the hall towards my bedroom. Jordan follows and opens the door to enter my room.

"Well, we're going to California next month, aren't we? December eighteen?" He reminds me.

"Oh, the wedding," I mutter to myself. I look up at Jordan, and he presses his lips and nods his head at me. "So I need to get my things ready. Honestly, I don't even know what my dress looks like. My mom told me it's a surprise." I take a seat at the edge of the bed and Jordan does the same.

"I'm just borrowing one of my dad's old suits," Jordan says. "Can I admit something?"

"What?"

"I'm nervous, I really am. I mean, I'm watching my dad getting married. Isn't it odd? It should be the other way around. I always thought that my dad would be at my wedding," Jordan says, chuckling. "Until he left, that is," he adds.

"Me too," I say to him. "I guess I'm just afraid of my mom's heart being broken again. What my dad did was unacceptable, and when he was standing outside our front door I was so afraid. The wedding just seems unbelievable." Jordan and I both sit in silence, looking down at the floor.

After a couple of minutes, Jordan looks up again. "We knew this wedding was going to happen," he says. 

"Yeah, I know, but I still can't get over that fact that our parents are getting married," I whisper to him, looking at his shinning eyes. I feel my heart lower when the realisation strikes me that Jordan is going to be my brother in twenty days.

Jordan's eyebrows wrinkle, as if he could read my thoughts. "Maya, you know we're not actually related, right?"

My eyes widen a bit, and I avert my gaze. "Y-Yeah, I know that." I shift on the bed a little, feeling my heart racing from Jordan's closeness. "It just seems wrong, that's all."

Jordan raises his eyebrow at me. "Wrong?"

I shake my head. "I should start packing. I'm usually slow at picking clothes to wear," I say, changing the topic. I give Jordan a small smile, then point at my door. "You should start packing too," I tell him.

Jordan nods his head slowly, stepping out of my bedroom before I closed the door. I go back to my bed, dropping myself onto the mattress. I make a frustrated sound into my pillow, closing my eyes and cursing my stupidity.

How could I say that to him? It just seems wrong, that's all. What the hell? I never even considered how horribly wrong this could have been months ago when I first met him. Well, the first time I met him I didn't even speak to him. 

My mind goes back to a sleep-deprived image of Jordan sitting at the cafe with me. He's changed since then, and I know that the only reason why he was mean in the first place was because of his mother's death. Now, he's much more considerate, and I know that he meant no harm towards me.

While lying in bed, I hear the doorbell ring, and I freeze, immediately thinking that it could be my dad at the door. I quickly get off my bed and open my door to look out the hallway, and I see Jordan doing the same thing as me. I sit him a panicked look, and he gets out of his bedroom.

"Could it be him," he asks, referring to my dad.

"Maybe," I mutter back.

"I'll go check," he says, making his way down the stairs. I leave my room, standing at the top of the stairs as I watch Jordan walk towards the door. I feel my heart stop for a moment when Jordan places his hand on the doorknob. He opens it, and I watch as his hand's grip on the doorknob tightens.

"God, I thought you were dead," a female voice says with a laugh. "You haven't answered my calls at all, you know. Did you break your phone."

Jordan's jaw tightens. "Get the hell out, Fiona."

Fiona.

When I hear Jordan say Fiona's name, I rush down the stairs, running fast enough to grab a hold of Jordan's arm to calm him down. I peer out the door, looking at Fiona with no emotions on my face.

"Maybe you should go," I say to her.

Fiona's large, green eyes fill with confusion as she stares at me with a look of shock. "What? Why? Did something happen?" she questions. She moves forward, wanting to go into the house.

Jordan opens the door wider, glaring at her. I can tell that he's holding in his anger, but he's clearly having a hard time doing it. "I never want to see you again. You ruined my parents' relationship."

Fiona pauses, looking up at Jordan with wide eyes. "Who told you?"

Before I could say another word to Fiona, Jordan slams the door, making a loud thudding sound echo throughout the house. I can feel a shiver running down my spine when I see the look of fury flash across Jordan's face.

"Jordan?" I say in a weak voice, almost scared to speak or make a sound around him. I follow him into the living room, where he sits himself on the couch and covers his face with his hands. "Jordan, she's gone. Don't worry," I try to assure him. 

Jordan's back is bent over with his elbows resting on his knees. His head is still placed in his hands, hiding his face. His back begins to shake as I hear him taking in short gasps of air into his lungs. I take a seat next to him, lightly placing my hand on his shoulder.

"Jordan?"

"What did I do to deserve this?" Jordan asks me, his voice shaking. He lifts his head, revealing tears streaming down his handsome face, and I feel my heart drop again.

"You did nothing, Jordan," is all I say before wrapping my arms around him, feeling his warm tears soaking my shirt.

***

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