22. Daisy
DAISY
I don’t have a tree house at home, but my equivalent happy spot is the formal living room on the first floor.
Bookcases line one wall, overflowing with textbooks and a few fiction titles.
It’s a dark room off the west side of the house with old furniture in like-new condition.
The only person that ever used this room was me. And it seems that hasn’t changed.
With my sketchbook and phone, I sit cross-legged in the oversized leather chair. When I was younger, I’d hide away in here. My parents would be upstairs in their offices or in the TV room, laptops in front of them as they caught bits and pieces of their favorite shows.
They seem to be working less since I’ve been home but existing in our own corners of the house is par for the course. I like having my own space, but too much of it is lonely.
I’ve been home for six days, and if tomorrow wasn’t Christmas Eve, I’d be nervous that I’d die of boredom.
Our traditional activities include Violet’s family, as well as Grandma and Grandpa Johnson, coming here.
We’ll do our annual ham dinner, followed by exchanging presents.
Aunt Serina arranges everything, but we do it in Flagstaff because she thinks it feels more festive here with the colder weather.
There isn’t snow on the ground yet, but there’s a chance of it tonight. I pull back the curtain to stare out into the dreary winter weather. Cold air seeps through the glass.
I haven’t talked to Jordan, but I’ve been thinking about him. Today especially. It’s the two-year anniversary of his friend’s death, and I know whatever he’s doing, it’s with Mark on his mind.
Mom steps into the room and smiles at me. “Do you want some headphones?”
I glance down at my phone. Out of habit, I’ve started listening to music anytime I’m sketching or studying.
“No, I’m good.”
Her brows pull together in confusion.
“I’ll turn it down,” I say.
“Thanks. Your dad is grading final exams.”
I forgot the one house rule—silence. If I had been the kind of kid that wanted to get in trouble, I could have easily accomplished it so long as I did it quietly. Sometimes this house feels more like a library than a home.
When I’m alone again, I pick up my phone and turn off the music. Trying not to overthink it, I text Jordan. Hi. Hope you’re having a good break. Thinking of you today. X
I warm up dinner, rummage the liquor cabinet, and take my food and drink back to my comfy chair.
Jordan FaceTimes me as I’m settling in. My pulse races as I answer.
“Hey,” I say as his face fills the screen.
Eyes hooded, beanie pulled down over his ears, he smiles lazily back at me. “Hi, sweet Daisy.”
“I wondered why you were calling instead of texting, but I think I see now.”
His eyes practically close when he smiles. I’ve seen Jordan drunk enough to know that he’s had way, way more than usual.
“Where are you?”
“Someone’s house. I don’t remember whose now. We started drinking early, bounced around a few places.”
“Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, but it doesn’t sound very convincing. “What are you up to?”
“Quiet night in.” I lift my glass of vodka and Sprite to show him.
“Cheers,” he says and brings his beer up to the screen. Music starts up in the background, and the lights go off in favor of a flashing red, blue, and green disco ball.
Someone yells something, and a chorus of voices call, “For Mark.”
“We’ve been doing a shot every hour,” he explains.
“Since when?”
“Fuck, I don’t know. Noon.”
“Maybe you should switch to water.”
“You’re right. I should hydrate. I’m gonna have a wicked hangover.” He struggles to get up, but he navigates through the house until he reaches the kitchen. He fills a glass and chugs it. Then, he goes right back to drinking his beer, but well, I tried.
Instead of going back to the party, he goes outside. It’s harder to see him, but it’s quieter.
His breath is visible as he speaks. “I head back to Valley on Thursday.”
“Christmas Day?”
“Yeah. I’ll wait until the afternoon, but we do most of our celebrating on Christmas Eve anyway.”
“I’m jealous. I’m already bored.”
“Come back this weekend. We have home games, and I’m sure there’ll be a party or two happening somewhere.”
I laugh it off, but my brain runs with the possibility of it. I never considered going back early, but it does sound pretty great.
The noise from inside is louder, and Jordan lifts his beer and chugs.
“It’s cold out.” His shoulders lift around his ears.
“Even colder here. There’s a chance of snow tonight.”
“Fuck that,” he says.
I can tell he’s antsy to get back inside.
“Are you going to be okay? Do I need to come take care of you like you did for me?”
His deep chuckle seems to have a direct connection to the butterflies in my stomach.
“I can probably manage to find a bed or couch to pass out on, but if you want to come strip down in your white cotton panties, you’ll hear no objection from me.”
“Night, Jordan.”
“Night, sweet Daisy.”
Violet finds me in my room when she arrives the next night.
“Hey.” She peeks in from the doorway.
I rush to hug her. “I missed you.”
“Same. It’s weird not seeing you every day.”
I love that college has brought Violet and me closer. And she’s right. I’ve gotten up to go talk to her so many times since I’ve been home only to remember where I am.
“I was thinking of going back to Valley this weekend.”
Violet laughs. “Has it been that bad?”
“No. They’re just busy and… you know what they’re like. And I miss our house.”
“Same.” She links her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder.
“Hey, your parents adore you. I know they don’t show it the same way mine do, but they are always bragging about you.
My dad is all, ‘Daisy’s parents said she’s taking eighteen credit hours this semester. How come you’re only taking twelve?’”
Laughter escapes my lips. Being quiet, being smart, and being an overachiever are the things that make my parents happy. Like it or not, they shaped who I am. And I like myself.
“Thanks for telling me.”
“Of course. And, hey, at least your parents haven’t spent the entire break asking why you’re no longer interested in seeing your old friends from high school.”
“Vi, not all jocks are shitty.”
“I know.”
I tilt my head to the side.
“I know,” she repeats. “But I’m not the same person I was in high school.”
We settle on my bed, facing one another.
“What are you going to do in Valley?” she asks.
“I don’t know. Reorganize my closet, clean out our fridge, go to a hockey game.”
“I knew it,” she says, eyes widening. “You’re going back for Liam.”
“No.”
She grins like she doesn’t believe me. “Have you been talking to him this break?”
I hesitate, and she gasps. “Oh my gosh, you have!”
My phone lights up with a text, and my cheeks heat because I know it’s Jordan. Just my freaking luck.
We both glance at it. It’s too far away for her to read the name or text. She lunges for my phone. It’s locked, but I still swipe it and hold it up to my chest. “I haven’t been talking to Liam.”
“Then who is it, because you are blushing so hard. I know it isn’t Dahlia or Jane.”
She tries again to free it from my grasp.
“Vi, stop,” I say when she’s nearly worked it out of my fingers. “It’s not Liam. It’s Jordan.”
She pulls back and goes quiet.
I nod to confirm it because I can tell she’s trying to decide if I’m joking or not.
“Jordan Thatcher?” The way she says his name speaks volumes.
“Yes. Jordan Thatcher. We’ve been spending so much time together while I tutored him, and things just sort of… happened.”
“Daisy.”
Okay, I like the way she says my name right now even less than the way she said Jordan’s.
“I really like him. I know he has a reputation, but?—”
“He’s slept with half of the Valley population. That isn’t a reputation. It’s a fact.”
“I don’t care about his past.”
“Past?” Her voice softens. “Honey, I say this with love, but you don’t really think that he’s only seeing you, right?”
I squirm under her scrutiny. “We haven’t set any boundaries.”
“So he could be with some other girl right now?”
“Would he text me if he were?” I unlock my phone to read his text and then show the image to Violet.
She stares blankly between the screen and me.
“Fuck the Dealer. It’s this card game where?—”
“I know the game. So?”
“So he’s out and texting me. Therefore, not with another girl.”
“I love your optimism,” she says with a sigh.
Okay, fine. I admit there’s a teensy tiny part of me that wonders if he’s hooking up with other people. We mostly hang out alone in my tree house and around his schedule. It wouldn’t exactly be hard for him to juggle. But the bigger part of me just doesn’t care. Or maybe wants to stay in denial.
“I know that your past makes it hard to believe that he could be this popular jock who parties and sleeps around, and is also a decent guy, but I think he is, Vi.”
“You’re going back early to hang out with him?”
I nod. “He asked me to come back this weekend.”
“What happened with Liam? I thought you were into him.”
“I was, or I thought I was. I think I liked the idea of him more than anything.”
“Jordan is so different from Liam,” she says.
“Yeah.” I laugh. “But also not. He’s unexpectedly sweet and…” I trail off. “I never expected to fall for him.”
“Fall?” Her brows rise. “Do not fall in love with him. Talk to him, get it out of your system or whatever, but absolutely do not fall in love with him.”
I smile and roll my eyes, then shove at her leg lightly. “Don’t worry. I will be fine.”
Or I hope I will because I think I already have fallen in love with him.