⋆ c o u r t n e w s & i m p r o m p t u p l a n s ⋆
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euanoia (n.) beautiful thinking; a well mind
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IT IS WELL AFTER MIDNIGHT when we finally settle into his large, king-size bed for the night. I am back in his arms, and it feels like home. To me, home is with the people you love, and since my actual house is always absent of them, this is it. We don't bother to close the blinds, instead watching the stars blink in the night sky, diamonds in a dark sea. He is cuddled up to my back, arm thrown around my waist, and head in my hair. We fit together perfectly, and I can't help but think how lucky I am to have someone so perfect want someone like me.
My eyes close to the lull of his steady breathing, the sound bringing comfort I'm not used to after so many lonely nights.
The next morning, a Saturday, the sun wakes me, its brilliance lighting the entire room. I turn to my side and take in Jordan's face as he sleeps. He seems peaceful and untroubled, innocent even, compared to his usual expression weighed down by events far too heavy for his years. He seems more child-like, more carefree.
"I can feel you staring," he mumbles, a small smile stretching across his lips.
"So? I'll stare at you all I want," I say, continuing to stare unabashedly even as he cracks one eye open. The light green of his eyes is electrifying in the sunlight, like a clear pool on a warm day.
"Yes, please do," he replies, words setting me aflame, "so I can stare right back twice as much."After saying so, his eyes sweep up and down my body, clad in one of his large white t-shirts. His eyes darken as they take in my long, bare legs, stretched out in front of me.
"Let's go before I do something I can't take back," he says, eyes dark and voice deep, his gaze steady. I gulp nervously, my entire body humming with energy, heat spreading throughout. I quickly jump out of his arms and run down the stairs, hearing his booming laugh behind me.
It's not until after a few hours of goofing off around his house that he gets the call. His phone rings and he picks it up, disappearing into another room after he hears a few words. I sit silently on the couch, knowing that it is about his father. He emerges a few moments later, looking as though he had aged ten years in five minutes, his eyes that previously shone with laughter and joy now filled with exhaustion and disappointment.
"Bad news?", my nervous voice cuts through the silence, and he looks up at me.
"Yeah, they've found enough evidence to put him on trial," he sighs, running a hand over his face, "and its already set for a month from now. Until then, they're detaining him in the local prison." I know from past experiences that right now, the least he wants is pity.
"Do you need me to do anything?", I ask, and he looks at me, grateful that I'm not dousing him in sympathy.
"Not yet, Bumble, but thanks. I think you should go home," he responds, but I know he means it sincerely, not in a mean way. I nod, walking to the stairs to get my clothes from his room.
"Come on, I'll give you a ride," he says when I come back down. We walk to his car in silence, me at a loss for something to say. The ride is completely free of conversation, not even the radio playing. I decide to let him be with his own thoughts, something I've often needed in the past. When he parks outside my house, I reach over and pull him into a hug, hoping that it conveys all the words I can't find.
As I walk up to my door, I turn to wave at him over my shoulder, but he's already gone.
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The rest of the weekend goes by without hearing a single word from him. On Monday as I get dressed for school, I can't wait to see him at school and hope he's doing okay. The day goes by mostly in anticipation and nervousness until I walk into chemistry, breathing out a sigh of relief when I see his large frame leaning against the window.
"Hey," I say cautiously as I set my bag down.
"Hey, Bumble," he mutters, and I see visible bags under his eyes, one of many signs that he's been stressed. I pull him into a hug, with me still standing and him on the lab stool. His arms immediately wrap around my waist and pull me into him, his head resting on my chest.
"I'm sorry I haven't called, I've been so busy with stupid paperwork from our lawyer and a constant stream of police coming in and out," he sighs, and I just nod, knowing nothing I can say will make this better.
"Well, I did have an idea," I begin hesitantly. He looks up at me, green eyes piercing as usual.
"You said the trial was in January, right?", he nods and I continue, "well, I was thinking that maybe we could go somewhere over winter break before then, just to ease everyone's stress and take a break before all the chaos."
He appears to be thinking it over before saying, "where were you thinking?"
"We could do a road trip down to a beach in Southern Cali since it's predicted to be really warm around Christmas," I shrug, hope beginning to grow inside me, "and we could bring your dad's...um...girlfriend and daughter too."
"That actually sounds perfect," he declares after a few seconds, "it would take a few days to get enough money and let everyone know, but I think it could work." I smile at him, gleeful.
"And...we could celebrate your birthday too," I say, teasing him, and he looks up at me with a grin, something I feel he hasn't had since the last time I saw him.
"I'm sure my parent's won't mind either because they've already planned a retreat in Yosemite National Park for some stargazing tour or something," I muse, making sure that nothing will interfere with this opportunity.
I sit down as class begins, mind overflowing with a dozen thoughts for our trip, but mostly just happy that I get to spend mostly uninterrupted time with Jordan.
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