Chapter 1: Crossing Rivers
Damn, the word 'Eviction' looks even scarier when it's in all caps, Jordan thought, nudging the white page which was decorated from top to bottom with various numbers; none of them were in his favor.
Jordan's wooden chair creaked as he turned to the kitchen window behind him, above the sink. The curtains danced in the spring breeze, while heavy rain outside speckled along the windowsill. When one couldn't afford air conditioning, they accepted any form of cool air they could get.
Well, there's no rain in hell. I'll take it while I can, he thought.
If humor could pay the bills, Jordan's pathetic teacher's salary wouldn't be that much of a problem. But, alas, it was microwave dinner again for the thirty-year-old man. At least the microwave was being positive, it even let out a happy 'ding' when it was done making up for Jordan's lack of money. He walked over and pried the Microwave door open hungrily.
"A daily dose of cholesterol," Jordan sighed as he was about to pull his less than gourmet feast out of a less than functioning machine. A funny statement considering he was pretty well built for someone his age, especially someone who spent most of his time grading papers; empty papers, mostly.
A gust of wind rushed into the house as the front door swung open, and along with it was a soaking wet figure. She panted, gripping her knees with her hands as she bent over. "I'm -- here," she sighed, yet tried to maintain that sweet 'Honey, I'm home!' voice.
"I can see that," Jordan sighed, slamming the microwave door shut and rushing to her side. The door hinge hissed as he fought with the wind for a good three seconds before being able to close it shut. He looked at the not-so-mysterious figure before him and pulled back the veil of its small, black hoodie. It revealed the golden-brown face of a teenage girl, drenched with water that curled over her upper eyelids - a soft film of protection for her hazel-brown eyes -- and dripped down to her small, rounded nose and firm cheeks.
While her face was usually a smiling portrait, one thing, in particular, broke the symmetry of her expression; and that was the cut on the bottom right side of her chin. It seemed like the rain washed away what would have been a heavy bath of crimson running down her neck, but the wound still needed to be tended to. "Don't-- worry about it, okay?" she said, rolling her petite upper body up straight from her leaning position. She grabbed a handful of her long, silky, jet-black hair and wrung out enough water to fill a cup, maybe two.
"You keep bringing home a couple more of those and we'll have enough scars for the whole neighborhood," Jordan tried to say without chuckling.
Jordan dabbed a cloth, which he grabbed from the nearby basket on top of the washing machine, on the girl's face. When one lived in a house that small, everything seemed to be nearby.
"I stayed for track practice, but then I had to deal with a couple of guys who wanted more than my money this time. And of-fucking-course it decides to rain when I miss my last bus and..." she moved her soft lips vigorously as she ranted about probably the worst thirty minutes of her week. "Sorry. I know. 'Language'."
Jordan laughed, pulling away from her.
"What's so funny?" she asked, with her hands on her small, curved hips.
"Those guys-- did you deal with them?" he asked, in an almost concerned voice.
"Psh, what do you think?" she said with a confident smile. Despite being small, Mia was a five-foot-two ball of energy that wouldn't go down without a fight.
"Mia the perv-slayer. The neighborhood is forever in your debt," Jordan laughed, wiping her face dry.
"Yeah, right. They'll probably be back tomorrow," Mia replied, gently clasping around Jordan's fingers before removing his hands from her face. "I'm fine, thanks, Mr. Rivers."
"At home, it's Jordan, alright? The last thing I want to think about is school, especially on a Friday."
"Said the teacher," she laughed; a sound that brightened the barely lit living room and momentarily drowned out the sound of rain. "Sounds like they don't pay you enough."
Good guess, Jordan thought.
"Absolutely not," Jordan sighed, taking his sweet time getting back to the hazelnut brown chair in the kitchen. He sat down and nudged the blue frame of his slim glasses over his nose as he took a second look at the pile of papers and paperclips. It would have been easier for him if those paperclips were actually on the papers, but what would life be if it were easy and organized?
Jordan glanced over at Mia, who was taking off her shoes; nothing unusual. She then quickly removed the drenched hoodie and tossed it into the laundry basket. The rain had soaked her to the very bone; her light teal tank top clung to each curve and crevice of her upper body. The bulging outline of the upper rim of her bra showed just how well her hand-full sized breasts were cradled. Now that was unusual, and Jordan's pants agreed with him. Well, not exactly his pants, but something he never thought about using again, especially after what happened a month ago.
Mia's toned arms swayed forward as she walked toward the table and pulled out a chair. She was just close enough for Jordan to admire the fine lines of her defined, feminine abs; firm, yet curved hills than dipped into a valley where her bellybutton rested. She gave him a quick, but tired smile as she sat down, fanning herself.
"How am I soaking wet and still hot? They didn't teach me this in physics class," Mia sighed.
"With your grades, you probably didn't listen anyway," Jordan laughed, trying to distract himself from the unbelievably fit girl before him.
"Shut up," Mia laughed, stopping when she glanced at the papers on the table.
"Oh, it's..." Jordan mumbled, pulling the papers away from her.
"My grades are shit, but I can still read," she said, leaning forward to snatch the bill at the top of the stack. Jordan grunted but knew it was futile to hide the truth from her any longer. She gripped the bill tightly and squinted at it. "Damn. Big letters."
"Tell me about it."
"I might not be good at math, but even I know that this minus sign next to this large number is never a good thing," she said, dragging the 'never' on for a good two seconds.
"I figured I could cover it this month, but that school is as reliable as trying to get T.V reception in this part of town."
"Right? God knows where I'd be without that track scholarship," she sighed. Jordan knew exactly where she'd be, and that's exactly why he tried to help. "Dad would have been able to help. You guys were best friends."
"Best is an understatement. Who do you think I shoplifted my first bit of candy with?" he chuckled, reminiscing about the dreadful years before he decided to get his shit together. "We picked up girls together. He even dressed up like me and took my ID when I was too hungover to take an exam." He paused to take a deep, sad breath. "Yeah, he would have been able to help."
