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started 4:07am 07/07/08
I first met Jordan shortly after graduating high school. It was an awkward meeting, at least, that's how I remember it. We ran into each other, quite literally, at a four-way intersection. I was on my way to the beach for my morning run; he was leaving, having finished his morning surf session. It was a small fender bender, my light blue Nissan lightly scratched at the front, his black Mustang barely dented at the bumper. Still, he took the opportunity to blame a "useless chick" for practically destroying his ride. I smiled at him with my oh so charming smile and gave him my information, ignoring his rant and waiting patiently while he wrote out his information on my remaining scrap of paper. I smiled at him again, that "you're such an ass but I'm going to put up with you anyway" smile that every girl has, and got back into my car, driving away and leaving him to stand there glaring after me while our fellow drivers honked their horns as they drove around his still gleaming but slightly dented Mustang. I didn't care after that. I didn't even think I'd ever see or hear from him again. I left it to my insurance company to take care of it. They had always done so for my siblings, my sisters who managed to get into so many more accidents than I, so I figured they would do the same for me.
A year later, Fate found it funny that Jordan and I should meet again. I'm Caitlyn, by the way, though my friends just stick to CT. My parents were odd balls who decided to name me Caitlyn Tate, which apparently means "pure beauty who brings happiness". I guess they thought I was beautiful and that I brought them happiness. I always thought having the middle name Tate was weird, so mostly I'm CT. But my name isn't the one that matters right now. I never thought I'd see Jordan again, but there he was speed-walking his way around a corner and spilling my very colourful energy drink all down the front of my formerly white tank top.
"Are you freakin' kidding me?!" he nearly shouted. His annoyance was more than obvious, as I hoped mine was as well.
"This can't seriously be happening," I retorted, throwing my hands, one of which was still grasping the much emptier energy drink can, in the air and rolling my eyes in fashion. "A year later and you still can't stop running into me?" I rested my free hand on my hip, almost ready to start tapping my foot because he was still staring at me like the idiot that he seemed to be.
"Me run into you? Babe, you're the one who's always running into things," he snorted, checking himself to make sure my drink hadn't splotched any of his clothing.
"Babe? Who are you calling babe, you pig?" Insults. Very entertaining, especially when there's a crowd forming. It's the social battle of wits and luckily I was well armed, though calling a guy a pig is hardly a good starting strategy. That's the weakest play there is. Not that it really mattered, as Jordan whatever-his-last-name was didn't understand the war he had just begun.
"That's right, I'm a pig and you're a cow," he muttered, pushing his way past me. This time I was left behind, left to ponder what had just happened while the on-lookers stared as they walked past. Great. Not only was this guy an ass, but he was a smart ass, and not in the facetious way. How had I gotten myself into that position anyway?
I let Jordan slip out of my mind for the next few weeks, pushed to the back burner as I instead contemplated his words. From two encounters, a year apart at that, he had the nerve to call me a cow. I couldn't understand it. Where did he get off insulting me that way? I mean, honestly. Is a girl not allowed to be offended when a guy gives her the general title of 'babe'? Babe is more a pet name, a term that people who are more friendly call each other. We were definitely not friends and hardly even close at that. Was I wrong?
"You weren't wrong to be offended but did you really have to call him a pig?"
That's my best friend Jada. She's always been there to give me advice when I needed it or to talk me down out of my apparent temper tantrums. This is just a couple days after the random chance meeting with Mr. Collision.
"Are you saying I didn't have any right to? The guy called me 'babe' and acted as though us running into each other was my fault! And he said 'always' as though the small little whatever last year was my fault as well. He's the one who had the "No right turn on red" sign!" A smart and considerate driver, I of course had my Bluetooth headset on as I cruised down the highway toward Jada and the beach. "I mean, come on, he looked like he was pretty comfortable in the area which means he had to have known that intersection."
"You never know Cee, I mean, maybe he's just a surfer looking for the next best wave. You know how the beach bums get. All about waves, no one cares about the streets anymore. Just a bunch of lights and laws." She made a sound that I could only assume meant she was turning over. "But seriously, are you still fretting about him? It was a complete coincidence that you ran into him at the store." I had my doubts, but she was right, I shouldn't worry about some guy that I would probably never see again. I said goodbye to her as I pulled into the lot. Sometimes I hated parking at the beach. Meters and their quarters and me who never seemed to have enough. I always seemed to never have quarters when Jada wanted to meet at the beach but whenever we carpooled there was an abundance of the necessary change. I was lucky that these meters took other coins as well. After grabbing a few things from the car and feeding the meter it's morning meal, I hurried down to the spot on the beach where Jada was already stretched out over a set of towels.
"It doesn't matter anyway. Even if you guys do meet again, just ignore him and go your separate ways," she said quietly, tilting her sunglasses so she could get a good look at me. "Are you seriously wearing that suit? You're going to have the funkiest tan line ever girl." She grinned and put her shades back on with a laugh and a smile. I shook my head and rolled my eyes. Nothing else mattered at the moment, not even my tan line.
"Is appearance all you think about?" I asked her with a grin. She shook her head and laughed, lying back down as I spread out my towel and dropped my bag on the corner. Ah, the beach. So much fun in the sun but the sand, it's almost awful. Almost. "Besides, I rarely ever get a chance to get out like this. I spend so much time at work that no one will ever see my tan lines anyway." I pulled my sunglasses from atop my head and settled them into place, lying on my back and letting the warmth of the sun spread across my body. It felt so wonderful to finally relax. And then the sand started flying.
"How about over there?" a loud voice called out from somewhere behind us. Both Jada and I jumped from our towels, wiping the spray of sand from our bodies and looking around for the culprit.
"Who the--" Jada started, but I interrupted her before she could get any further.
"Is this for freaking real?!" I shrieked, causing some of the beach goers around us to raise up from their own towels to stare.
"Is what for freaking real?" Jada asked, turning to look at the person I was staring at. She pushed her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose and stared with that "Really now?" look that she gets all too often. "Is that who I think it is?" she asked me, eyebrows waggling with an annoying tease.
"Don't even think about it," I growled at her, standing on my towel and stomping the short distance that stood between Jordan and myself. "Can you seriously not go anywhere without interrupting my relaxation?" Jordan blinked once or twice and then his mouth spread into a wide grin.
"Well speak of the devil," he laughed. "Hey guys, this is the chick I was telling you about, the one who couldn't seem to keep herself away from me." He dropped his sandals and his backpack and wrapped his arms around my waist, twirling me around as if I were a close friend. "Just can't resist my good looks and debonnaire charm, now can you?" I squealed, agitated by his close proximity and pried his arms from my body, pushing him away in disgust.
"How dare you?!" I cried out. "I'm not some bimbo you can use for your amusement," I glared at him, glancing sideways to glare at his friends as well.
"Hey, I'm Jeff," a well-tanned brunette said with a smirk, reaching a hand out to Jada who had just managed to catch up with me.
"Jada," she replied with a grin, letting him shake her hand as she turned to me and Jordan. "And you must be..."
"You can call me whatever you want," was his remark as he finally let me go and reached out to shake her hand. "But these guys call me Jordan," he added with a wink. I did the only thing that made sense to me, I rolled my eyes at him. "So," Jordan continued, "what brings you ladies to our side of the street?" Jada just smiled and wrapped a friendly arm around my shoulders.
"This fabulous weather," she replied smoothly, not caring if I was glaring at her or not. "Who could ignore perfect sun and sand?"
"Excellent!" Jeff exclaimed, slapping five with the guy standing next to him. "We were here this morning for the waves, but decided it was a perfect day for some beach volleyball. You ladies play?" I tried to give Jada a look from behind my sunglasses, but she only had eyes for Jeff at that moment.
"No, but I'm a quick learner," she said, prancing over the sand to stand next to him.
"Would love to stay, but I've got things to do," I replied quickly, gathering my things and hurrying off, not allowing any of them to try and persuade me to stay. Let Jada explain my hasty getaway if she wanted. I doubted she would care.
