Chapter 5

In the car, Jordan used her towel to cover the seat before getting in. It was a good idea; especially considering my shorts stopped a couple of inches above my knees. I pulled my towel out of my backpack and did the same thing.

“Just toss your backpack in the back seat,” Jordan suggested. “That way you’ll know where it is when we get ready to leave.”

I nodded and did as she suggested. It was a lot better than trying to keep up with it at the party.

Once we got on the road, Jordan looked over at me. “I’m not sure Danielle will let you swim in this,” she said, reaching over and running a hand up my shorts leg. I could feel her nails through the denim and it made my heart race.

“I-It’s the only pair I own,” I said. I wanted her to stop touching me like that, but saying something would lead to questions, and I didn’t want to answer those questions. Besides, she wasn’t hurting me. What I felt was nice, but not appropriate since we weren’t doing anything other than going to a party together.

She glanced at me, her hand still sitting on my leg. “You came to Texas in the middle of the summer with only one pair of shorts?”

Hearing her say it like that did sound silly. I shrugged, and then nodded. It was taking a lot of effort to sit there and not squirm. It was also a chance to back out, a legitimate reason. It would also help avoid upsetting Jordan over the lewd thoughts that continued to run through my mind. “I ... I don’t have to go. I wouldn’t want to cause any problems.” I couldn’t believe I actually got the words out, and the double meaning of the problems I would cause was fitting too.

She patted my leg, half touching skin, and half the shorts. “Nonsense,” she said. “We can make a quick stop to pick up a pair. Maybe a few pairs.”

Another vision flashed through my mind of her watching me put on the swimming trunks. Her expression was heated and her eyes riveted on...

I shivered from the thought. “I ... um ... I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of spare cash on me.”

She smiled. “It’s cool. I don’t mind.” She removed her hand from my leg and patted the dash of her car affectionately. “It’s not like I can’t spare a little money for my new friend.”

New friend? I barely knew her, and she barely knew me, yet she considered us friends? I didn’t know what to feel, but the small smile on my face made me realize that I liked the idea.

“Here we go,” she said, pulling into a parking lot for a strip mall. She parked the car and climbed out saying, “C’mon. This won’t hurt a bit.”

I got out and followed her to a small outlet store. I couldn’t imagine any problems buying shorts; that was straightforward. However, what would I look like in the thin material? What about when they got wet? What if I had more indecent thoughts of Jordan? Would she get upset? Would her friend? What about the other people at the party? Would they kick me out?

Jordan walked into the store and turned to wait for me. Once again, she held out her hand for me to take. I couldn’t be rude, so I took it. Her touch alone was causing problems, not to mention the fact that as she walked next to me, the side of her breast brushed repeatedly against my arm. My denim shorts grew uncomfortable in only a few seconds, but thankfully, they could conceal my problem and keep moderate control.

The store was like the one we had back at home. It was a miniaturized version of Wal-Mart or Target and attempted to cater to practically any need. They had a clothing section near the entrance and the large bay windows. The store looked mostly empty and the cashier turned and watched us as we walked past her. I could feel heat climbing up my face. I didn’t know what I was embarrassed about, but I was. I could only hope to find new shorts and leave quickly.

Jordan spotted what we were looking for. She snorted as she read the tag on one pair. “It says ‘medium’.” She turned to me. “What size are you anyway?” I stated my waist size and she looked down at me. “Are you sure?” I nodded.

She stood up on her toes, looking around the store. “Looks like there aren’t any dressing booths.” Then she stepped closer to me and held the sorts to me at the waist. She hemmed and hawed about how they looked and then looked up. “I’ll bet they have a bathroom here.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she walked off toward the registers. I watched her hold up the shorts and then point back at me. The lady at the register looked my way, smiled and then nodded and pointed off toward the back of the store.

I groaned inwardly as Jordan walked toward me smiling. She grabbed a few different styles and sizes of shorts and then held out her hand again, wiggling her fingers at me. “C’mon.”

I took her hand and we went to the back of the store. She hadn’t been shy about having me help her with her top back at her apartment. She wasn’t worried about being in a public store with only her itty-bitty bikini and gossamer wrap covering her. Thus, why should I be surprised that she would not only help me find something appropriate for swimming at a pool party, but she would likely also want me to model each pair?

Thankfully, the bathroom wasn’t separated from the main area by a single door. We went through the main restocking doorway, wide enough to get through with a pallet jack, turned left, and found the only bathroom in the whole place. It wasn’t marked specifically for men or women, but from the looks of it inside, it was well maintained by everyone.

Jordan handed me a pair of shorts. “Here, try these.”

I nodded, and pushed the door closed. After swapping out shorts, I opened the door again. Jordan looked at me and then reached out and pulled up my shirt. She shook her head and tugged on it. “Take it off.” I pulled my shirt off and held my arms out to the sides, as if she would frisk me next or something.

She studied me for a moment and then slipped her fingers inside the band and tugged on them. “How do they fit?”

I felt like I did when my mother got me clothes when I was five. “They have a draw string, Jordan. The idea is one size fits many.”

She nodded and handed me another pair. “Try these.”

I shook my head. The pair I had on would be fine for swimming, but from the look on her face, she wasn’t going to let me get away with taking the first pair I found. Consequently, I took the other pair, closed myself back in the bathroom and swapped shorts again. This time, however, I was hesitant at opening the door. These shorts were a lot shorter than the others were, and though they had a drawstring like the other pair, they reminded me of the gym shorts I had to wear in high school.

I looked at my legs. I was white because I had always worn jeans during the summer. This would be the first time I would be in a public setting in a long time and I suddenly worried about what the others at the party would think. For that matter, what would Jordan think? She was right outside the door and wanted to see me in them. I could gauge the opinion of the others by how she reacted. If I didn’t like it, I would insist on the first pair of shorts.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out to calm myself, I opened the door again. I had expected to hear laughter, but Jordan surprised me in another way when I heard her say “Oh my!”

I had been staring straight ahead to avoid her eyes when I opened the door, but when I looked at her face, she was staring at the shorts I was wearing. Her face was flushed and her chest was rising and falling with her breathing. I wasn’t sure what was wrong and looked down at myself. I knew I looked bad, but I didn’t think I was so horrible as to cause a panic attack. She looked up and met my eyes. Something in her expression made me realize she wasn’t panicking or upset in any way. I swallowed, completely unsure of what to do or say because no one had ever looked at me like that before. She blinked a couple of times and calmed down. She licked her lips, smiled at me, and finally said, “I think we found your swimming trunks.”

She let me put my cutoffs back on. Then we went back out to find two more pairs of that style and size in different colors. Once she had them, it was off to the registers to pay, and finally out the doors. I was confused about her initial reaction, but she was exuberant while looking for the additional shorts and paying for them. The most respectful thing to do would be not to mention it, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t file it away to ask about later. I also didn’t like the idea of anyone buying me something and not paying them back for it.

We climbed into her car and I thought furiously. What could I ask her about? She had asked me about home. I knew she didn’t have the same hang-ups as me, so her home life was probably a lot closer to normal. However, asking her about her home when I didn’t want to talk about mine seemed hypocritical, but what else could I ask about?

We were back on the road and I remembered her being at the orientation. “So, are you a new student too?” She struck me as a little older, having an apartment and car, but I wasn’t sure.

She shook her head.

I watched her for a second, confused. “Then ... why were you at the orientation?”

She didn’t seem to hear me. I started to ask again but she said, “Dammit.”

A second later, car went flying past on the other side of the median. Jordan glanced back and then watched in her side view mirror.

I watched her for a second and then asked, “Did you recognize the car?” It had been a canary yellow corvette. I wasn’t sure of the year, but there was no mistaking the design. Even someone who didn’t work on cars would know it.

Jordan glanced at me. “Yeah, it was Roger. Danielle’s husband,” she added.

“Your friend? The one having the party?” I asked.

She nodded. “And it looks like he’s pissed.” She straightened up and said, “We’ll find out what’s going on in another minute.”

I looked around. The houses we passed were larger than others in the area were. There was also a brick wall following the road. Jordan pulled in where the wall gave way to an inlet and a black wrought iron gate. She stopped next to a small box, rolled her window down, punched on the buttons on the box, and the gate began a slow swing toward us. We sat there waiting until the two halves were far enough apart, and then she pulled through.

I remembered hearing the others in the dorm talking about a gated community and getting in, but I hadn’t realized the term had been literal. “A gated community?” I asked aloud. “If there’s a college party here, how would any of them get in? I don’t remember seeing any mention of the code on the flier.”

Jordan shook her head. “If you want to get to a party bad enough, you’ll find out what the code is. Besides, most codes are based on the addresses of the houses in the community. So...”

“Knowing the address, I could probably guess the code.”

She nodded. “Right.”

All of the houses looked new, and I was sure most were of the same floor plan, a cookie cutter design. We followed the street around until we came to a cul-de-sac. Cars were lined all the way around the circle and down both sides of the inlet.

Jordan pointed. “That’s the house.”

It was the one right in front of us, and it didn’t look like any of the other houses at all. First, it was much bigger, and second, it sat back further from the road. It looked like Roger and Danielle had money, and probably a large family. To me, all that space would be a waste if only the couple lived there. Living in a small town, I knew most of the residents lived out in the surrounding country. Several of my classmates lived in houses that had more room than their families actually needed. They were also some of the most snobbish and cruel classmates I knew.