32. The Jordans
THIRTY-TWO
Avery heldthe sketchbook to her nose and inhaled before she flipped it open. The empty pages were a whiff of a repeated memory, of every time her mother took her hand and pulled her away from the section of blank books and notepads at the bookstore and over to the books she could read. Books that were already written didn’t entice her the way empty books did when they demanded someone fill their pages.
She tried whatever series was popular every year, from Harry Potter to Hunger Games, just so she didn’t feel left out. Fan art was a fun connection with her classmates until she got good enough to draw a picture of the Hogwarts characters and insert herself as Luna Lovegood. The girl she drew it for thought it was creepy.
The plain, black sketchbook was a familiar weight in her hands, the same size and shape as a hundred others, and, true to her own superstition about making any one idea too important too soon, she skipped the first page and set her pencil on the second. She drew his name in large, loopy cursive across the page, lead skipping off the edges, then over and over again, smaller each time, skirting the curves of each layer and letting the words shift into whatever came.
Jordan Ackerman Jordan Ackerman Jordan Ackerman Jordy #18 Ackerman Where are you Jordan where and why and how are you Jordan?
She opened the notes app on her phone and scrolled through the list she’d compiled of every rumor or offhand remark, comical to gruesome, scribbling each one on a sticky note and hanging each note on the edge of the shelf above her desk.
Smoking hash and training coyotes with an art advisor in a desert commune.
On the run from the married Vegas showgirl’s husband.
Witness protection in Central Europe.
Some terrifying disease—a rare cancer, maybe, and experimental treatment in an unapproved lab as a last resort.
Quarterbacking in the CFL under an assumed name.
Cruising the Mediterranean on a yacht with a billionaire’s widow.
Tattoo artist in the Badlands.
Prison, for hard drugs.
Rehab, for hard drugs.
Botched plastic surgery in Mexico.
Rock-paper-scissors in the Easter Islands.
Kibbutz in Israel. Gambling in Monaco. Scotland Yard. Aliens. A cult.
Benny suggested he might have hit it big with some investments with all the cash the football program threw at him and decided not to risk his health. Benny was far too practical. Even Cameron planned to ride out the college years to bank his money as long as he could and get a degree out of it. Jordan, who scouts already whispered about as a first- or second-day pick, wanted to go all the way.
Thumbing through a stack of printouts, Avery studied him, starting with the social media posts when he committed to UND as a bright-eyed, lanky high school senior. She could make a flipbook and capture the transition from boy to man in the set of his square jaw, the stubble that spread on his cheeks, the faint circles forming beneath his eyes. His shoulders broadened and his arms bulked up in three years of training in a highly ranked program, and the shift from a teen heartthrob to a man on the verge of a dream was almost imperceptible as the pictures marched on week by week, season by season.
Avery
When did you meet Jordan?
Cameron
The summer before my senior year of high school, when I came up for clinics. But that was only for a few weeks. He was going into his sophomore year.
Avery
That was his first year as a starter. Was he different when you first met him, versus when you actually came up to play?
Cameron
No. He always had the swagger, but he worked like a beast and he was a team guy. He loved the attention, but he was a public relations major and I think he understood how to manipulate it better.
Avery
Did he work with the crew who did all the social media posts?
Cameron
I’ll explain later. I can’t run sprints with an upset stomach.
She studied the printouts of the team’s social media posts from Jordan’s freshman year, featuring the previous quarterback, to the ones when he became a starter. Laying them in a grid over her bed, she followed his seasons: backup, starter, starter. Out of curiosity, she’d printed Cam’s posts as well, and added a row with those.
“Where are you?” Avery whispered. Cam’s encouragement, or permission, or whatever it was, wasn’t enough to lull her into doodling a humorous series of rumors. He was alive somewhere, safe enough to satisfy the police, and maybe watching his second-in-command lead the team he built.
“Who stole your dreams out from under you, Jordy?” she asked. “Cam didn’t want this. Nobody wanted this.”
October, Week 6: UND’s “Air Jordan” wraps up the game with 315 passing yards and three TDs today. Safety Lamar Quinlan’s interception sealed the deal against Iowa, lifting the blue-and-gold to 4-2 on the season.
October, Week 7: On this week’s podcast, QB Jordan Ackerman and DE Gregory Halsey, both juniors, talk about why they’ve already committed to stay at UND for a final season.
November, Week 9: Ackerman’s all smiles on the sideline with Coach Keyes as QB2 Cameron Porter takes the field in the fourth quarter, with UND up 27-3 against the Cougars.
December, Week 12: Jordan Ackerman spent some time on the sideline during the third quarter after a suspected head injury. Freshman backup Cameron Porter rallied the team for two drives and a field goal before Ackerman returned, but loss ended UND’s season with an 8-4 record.
New Year’s Eve: Cameron Porter leads the boys in blue to a fourteen-point victory over the Spartans in the Star Bowl while QB1 Jordan Ackerman takes a shot at play-calling with Coach Keyes.
January: On this week’s podcast, QB Jordan Ackerman and Coach John Keyes recap the season and talk transfers, red-shirts, and next year’s schedule.
March: On next week’s podcast, Jordan Ackerman sits down with the strength and conditioning coaches and talks off-season fitness for the football team.
July: It’s heating up at training camp as the freshmen settle in and await the arrival of the veterans tomorrow. Offensive captains Jordan Ackerman, Will Bennett, and Trevon Stevenson will be at the media tables at 9 a.m. signing gear before an open practice with the full team at 10:00 a.m. Community members are welcome at UND Stadium from 8:30 a.m.-12 p.m.
August: UND is pleased to introduce Cameron Porter, the blue-and-gold’s QB1 for the coming season. If #13’s performance in the Star Bowl last year is any indication, we’ve got another winning season on tap.
After that, it was all about Cameron, and aside from one mention in the magazine, Jordan’s name was never mentioned. Even the completion record Cam broke in his first five starts wasn’t attributed to his friend. It was a school record, nothing more. Avery was surprised the social media posts were still up and unedited.
On a hunch, she clicked to the alumni website with the magazine spread. His name wasn’t there anymore.
She scrolled back through episodes of the UND Athletics podcast and found the episode from the previous October. Jordan’s voice sounded as deep and as blue as his eyes, languid and unhurried.
“Man, it’s a no-brainer,” he said, sharing a laugh with Greg Halsey, a friend of Justin’s. “I love this gig. I love UND and this team. I’ve got work to do to make it in the league, and there’s no better place to get better than right here. You can count on me to play here as long as I can.”
On the episode in January, his tone was decidedly more somber.
“Cam lit it up at the bowl,” Jordan said. “I’m so proud of that kid. I could bail now and you’d be in fine shape.”
John Keyes’ laugh was pinched and forced. “Good thing he hung onto his red-shirt status. We’ll get four good years out of him if he doesn’t sneak into the transfer portal.”
“I won’t let him do that, coach. And he wouldn’t do that, anyway.”
Avery scrubbed the timeline back a few seconds and listened to the exchange again and again, brows furrowed as she scribbled in her sketchbook. The coach knew he was leaving. Maybe not why or when, but he knew something was wrong enough for an exit plan, and he fooled everyone into thinking he was as shocked as they were.
Natasha’s jangling keys startled Avery from her daze. “Hey,” she mumbled, eyeing the spread papers. “Who’s that?”
“The quarterback before Cameron. The one who went missing.”
“Obsess much?”
Avery bit her lip to stop herself from sniping back. “Just research for a piece about… about…” She flailed for the word. Mystery, loss, disappearance?—
“Football? Shocker.”
“Circumstantial evidence.”
Natasha disappeared into the bathroom.
“I’m sorry about what happened the other day,” Avery called after her.
“You already said that,” Natasha replied, her voice muffled by the door. “It’s dorm life. Whatever.”
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
The door opened. “You’re making me uncomfortable every time you bring it up, but by all means, keep reminding of that fine view of your boyfriend’s ass.”
Avery scooped the printouts into a sloppy pile. “Why don’t you like me anymore?” she demanded. “Even before the thing with Cam. We used to hang out all the time, and now you never want to.”
“We don’t have to hang out. We live together.”
“I always tell you when I’m going to go eat to see if you want to come. You never ask me.”
“You don’t always,” Natasha shot back. “I lost my dinner invitation every night you eat with Isaac.”
“You lost that invitation because you were embarrassing yourself and making him really uncomfortable.”
“Well, we’ve both settled in a little and made our own friends, so I think it’s fine to just have a nice, respectful living arrangement. We don’t have to do everything together. I’m so glad there aren’t any sororities here where everyone has to just be sisters at the flick of a magic wand.” Natasha flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. “That’s so fake. You and I are cool, right? We can each do our own thing.”
Avery looked down, pretending something in her stack of papers caught her eye. “Sorry. I was kind of overbearing. Of course we’re cool.”
“I mean, I don’t mind if you bring Cam around.”
She didn’t respond to the insinuation, and picked up a conté crayon to sketch Jordan in quarter-profile in a few quick strokes. With a few colored pencils, shades of gold curled over his head, and deep blue irises lit his eyes. His lips turned up at one corner, rounding his cheek, and down on the other side into a frown.
Avery sorted the photos—helmet, and no helmet—for a better look at his face. With a thick pen, she traced his outline atop one of the printed pictures in a comic-book style, then used a fine-point pen to dot tiny parallel rows at an angle to his face to create a halftone effect. She colored his eyes blue and his hair gold again.
Look at you,she said to her sketch, not speaking aloud since Natasha was on her bed studying. You’re Captain America with a little Lothario, aren’t you? You could be James Bond in this drawing, or grow out your hair and be some influencer who lives in a van. You could sell designer weed or whole life insurance or Gatorade, if you wanted to.
If you wanted to.
What did you want?