The Thrilling Adventures of Jordan Wilder

I guess it was my fault.

Everyone thought so. Particularly my best friend...BUT I have this cool saying that I strive to follow that goes along the lines of “leave the past in the past.” The only problem is that no matter how hard I try to leave the past in the past, people can’t seem to move on. I mean, some people would argue that pushing your best friend off a tree branch that is twenty-seven feet off the ground is a bad idea. He was bragging that he could probably fly if the situation really dananded it. So I made the situation demand it. Long story short: we found out real quick that he was not related to Superman.

As a result, he acquired a small scar on his chin from falling off a branch twenty-seven feet in the air. And as another result, I got grounded for twenty-seven years… after I came down from the tree, which took about five hours. No joke.

My parents weren’t very happy with me, but let’s be real here. Five hours. That’s pretty dang impressive. Five hours off my twenty-seven year sentence. Come on, I know what I’m doing...

But after that whole ordeal, I was insanely jealous that my friend had gotten that stupid scar. I mean, as ten year old boys, there was nothing cooler! Now, this was before girls existed in our meager little world, but even when they did start to pop up like popcorn in a microwave with their crooked teeth and stringy hair, they all went for Jordan Wilder, my best friend. And then those girls got prettier.

And we got older.

And I, Bracken Frasier, was stuck being number two.

I really didn’t mind. I didn’t mind that he got all the girls. I didn’t mind that he got all the attention. I didn’t mind that I was known as ‘Jordan’s best friend.’ I really didn’t mind.

Now, Jordan was a cool guy. Still is. He’s nice, and good looking, and hard working, and ambitious. He’s going places. Well, he’s going most places. There’s only one problem: he won’t talk to this girl...

I keep telling him, “She’ll never be your girlfriend if you don’t work up the courage to freakin’ ask her out, you nincompoop.”

But does he listen to me?

No.

No, he does not.

Anyway, her name is Grace Rothery and she’s a quiet kind of pretty. She has big, hazel eyes and pretty brown hair that’s always curled. She has full lips and freckles, and she has always been the kindest person I have ever known. She’s soft-spoken and very shy, but she is the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. She’s hardly intimidating.

And yet Jordan still won’t freaking talk to her!

And so I sat during school one day, with my elbow resting on the lunch table, staring at Jordan in exasperation. He stared across the room at Grace. Grace stared at her sandwich. The sandwich didn’t stare at anything. Because it’s a sandwich.

“Dude, you’re drooling,” I muttered as I rubbed my face double exasperatedly.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

He shot me a death glare. “Shut up.”

I gestured widely at her with my hands. “Just go talk to her!”

Jordan sucked in his cheeks. “I should. I should.” I groaned. Jordan may have been one of the most popular kids in school, but when it down right cake to it, he was absolutely hopeless. I rolled my eyes and, standing, I flicked him in the back of the head.

“Hey! What the heck was that for?” He whined.

“For being an idiot. I’ll be right back.” I shoved my hands deep in my pockets and wove through the maze of people and tables until I stood right in front of Grace.

I plopped down at her table as if I did so every day. “Hello, ladies. Don’t mind me. This seat just looked so comfortable from across the room and so I just had to come try it out.” I made a show of bouncing up and down, shifting position, and even turning around and sitting backwards. “But who am I kidding? This is a high school lunch table! Of course this chair isn’t comfortable!” I laughed. After a few seconds I realized I was the only one laughing.

“Can I help you?” Grace’s friend, Emily, asked. It seemed like she was trying to hide her disgust.

I sighed dramatically. “Well if you’re not going to laugh at my jokes then, sadly, you cannot. I’m here for Gracie-poo.”

Grace brushed a few strands of brown hair behind her ear. Her cheeks were already turning pink. “Why?” She asked, hardly meeting my eyes.

I scooted one seat over so that I was sitting right by her. Pointing across the room at Jordan, I looked at her. “See that guy over there?”

She pursed her lips. “Jordan?”

I grinned. One step at a time. “So you do know him?”

She glanced at Emily. “Well, everybody does.”

My smile disappeared. That was very true. Everyone knew Jordan. Just because Grace knew who he was didn’t necessarily mean anything. Crap. Maybe this was going to be harder than I thought. Thumping my palm against the table lightly, I said, “Well… he wants to talk to you.”

She bit her cheek. “Why?”

I sighed. This was definitely going to be harder than I thought. Boys don’t play matchmaker. Girls do. Girls are better at it.

“Because he’s too scared to approach you,” I finally decided on. Yeah, that was good.

She looked away.

Okay, not so good. Clearly this would take a maniacal mind. Thankfully, I had one. “He thinks you're pretty,” I blurted out.

She looked up at me through her long lashes. “He… he does?”

Oh, geez. Jordan was going to kill me. I took a deep breath. “And he wants to talk to you.”

She shifted. “Well… um… I mean, he’s nice and everything, but I—”

“He really wants to talk to you.” I pressed on gravely. Come on, girl! Take a hint!

She bit her lip. Nodding in Jordan’s direction, she frowned. “It doesn’t seem like it.”

I glanced at Jordan. Sure enough, he was glaring daggers at me, probably wishing he could push me out of a hundred-foot tree.

I put my hand to one side of my mouth to conspiratorial whisper, “That’s just ‘cause he hates my guts. It’s nothing new, trust me.”

Grace blushed, but a tentative smile lit her face. “He’s never talked to me before.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s a complete idiot. He wants to. He really does. He’s just intimidated by you.”

She managed a small, pretty smile. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

I grinned back at her. “Come on, I'll introduce you. Emsies can come too.”

Emily shot me a look. “Don’t call me that.”

I held up my hands in surrender. “Fine, Miss Grumpy Pants.” I held out my hand to Grace but all she did was stare at it.

“Normally when someone holds out their hand, you normally take—”

“I don’t know, Bracken.” She didn’t place her hand in mine, but she did stand. “I will punch you in the gut if you’re lying to me.” Even standing, Grace only came to my chest. She was pint size. Awwwww.

“Dang. Tiny girl has anger issues. Why would I lie?”

Grace nervously brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You coming, Em’?” she asked, wringing her hands. It sounded more like a plea than an inquiry.

Emily tried to hide a smirk. She leaned back in her chair casually and folded her arms against her chest. “Nah, you go along.”

“Oh… okay.” Grace hesitated before following me nervously across the lunchroom, tugging at her curls.

I noticed as we approached that Jordan’s face was redder than a fire engine, contrasting greatly with his blue eyes… which were colder than Antarctica at the present moment.

“Grace,” I said with a sneer at Jordan, “this is Jordan.”

She glanced at me, then at her shoes. “Hello,” She said shyly.

His gaze shifted from me to Grace, and his eyes softened. “Er… Hello,” Jordan replied.

There was an awkward silence. Well, this was going well.

Wow, Jordan must’ve really liked her. He never was at a loss for words.

I clapped my best friend on the back. “Tell her what you were telling me a few minutes ago. About… you drooling.” I shrugged my eyebrows at him and then smirked.

He turned a shade redder. “I wasn’t drooling.”

I folded my arms. “Were too.”

“Bracken said that… um… you wanted to talk to me,” Grace interrupted. She really was so pretty, I realized as I looked at her. I mean, we’d had a few classes together, and I guess I’d always known she was pretty… but wow. It wasn’t gaudy at all though. It was like she was beautiful because of this weird aura she had. The way she caried herself.

Gee, if Jordan hadn’t of liked her…

Maybe I could try that strategy next. Go out with Grace to make Jordan hate me. Maybe then he’d work up the courage to ask her out. I’d probably end up in the hospital in the process though, and I wasn’t that dedicated.

“Did he?” Jordan asked, worry in his voice. “What else did Bracken tell you...?”

She chanced a glance up at him. “That you… you think I’m… that I’m…” She swallowed.

I slapped Jordan on the back again, jarring myself back from my thoughts. “That you think she’s pretty!” I said with a laugh that I managed to turn into a cough.

“YOU did WHAT?” He hissed at me. His teeth were clenched so hard I thought his jaw might shatter. His stare burned into me like lava. Good thing I was so cool it only sizzled off. “You said that?” He seethed, grabbing the front of my shirt.

Grace looked at him, disappointment and hurt evident in her eyes. This girl was so open that you could read her emotions like you were looking through a piece of glass. “You… so you don’t think so?”

Jordan relaxed a bit. Well, he let go of my shirt. As for relax, not so much. He addressed Grace with a forced smile. “I… I do. Um, but I am just frustrated with my supposed best friend.” He said through his teeth as he glared at me again.

Grace actually laughed. Both Jordan and I turned to gape at her. I don’t think either of us had ever heard her laugh. It was infectious, and soon Jordan had to smile back, forgetting about my backstabbing treachery—which was actually for his benefit—and enjoying her smile.

Grace’s eyes glimmered with a genuine spark of amusement. “You can’t trust Bracken with anything apparently. He basically twisted me into coming over to talk to you.”

Jordan gave me a very distinct glare. “Sounds like him.” He paused for a moment, then said awkwardly, “But I’m kind of glad he got you to come over here. There’s… there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you…”

There was another awkward pause.

Say something, Jordan. Anything. Literally anything, you complete and utter idiot!

Jordan cleared his throat. “Are you liking your classes this semester?”

Grace clasped her hands in front of her and swung her arms slightly from side to side. “Yes. Do you have Ms. Wood for English?”

Jordan nodded. “Yeah. Third hour. I like her okay. What about you?”

Grace smiled, revealing her pearly white teeth. Now here was a girl who used mouthwash and went to the dentist regularly. Jordan was a lucky guy. “She’s probably my favorite teacher. I had her my sophomore and junior years too.”

Jordan raised his eyebrows. “I like her, but probably not that much.” He chuckled again.

Grace’s lips turned upward again. “Do have Mr. Reynolds? Or have you had him in the past? He teaches Creative Writing. I've heard he’s good. I have him next semester.”

“Reynolds is my favorite teacher! Oh gosh, he’s hilarious! You’ll like him. Are you interested in writing?”

Grace shrugged. “Ish. I like writing when I don’t have to write an essay.”

Jordan laughed. “Same though.”

Grace smiled once more and looked at her feet shyly. “I wonder why I’ve never talked to you before. I always knew you were nice, but you’re always a bit… crowded.”

“Crowded?” Jordan asked, scratching at his arm.

I yawned. This was painful.

She shrugged again and wrapped her arms around herself. “There’s always people around you. I’m not very good with crowds. And no one really knows me… so…”

“Well, I know you. Bracken knows you—”

“That’s because you never shut up about her,” I muttered out of the corner of my mouth. My comment was rewarded by a harsh elbow to the ribs.

“—and Emily knows you,” Jordan continued without pausing.

Grace brushed her hair behind her ear and smiled faintly at the ground. “Three people. Wow. And I didn’t know you knew me until today. And I’ve talked to Bracken a few times, but not that much.”

Jordan smiled at her. “Bracken knows everyone. We go way back.” He reached up to touch the scar on his chin. “See this? He did this to me when we were younger.”

Again, with that stupid scar.

Grace laughed lightly. “Well, I’m glad he didn’t do that to me.”

Glad he didn’t do that to me? What?

Why was I being talked about like I wasn’t there? It was bad enough I had to watch them stare at each other like lovesick puppies. Now I was being talked about like I was in a different room? I had been standing there throughout their whole conversation, silently and not-so-silently egging both of them on because they were both incapable of doing anything by themselves, and here I was being ignored. It wasn’t my fault they both sucked at flirting.

I waved my hand in front of Jordan’s face, just to remind him I still existed, just in case he’d forgotten.

Jordan glared at me, but his expression softened when he looked back at his Grace. “We should hang out sometime, Grace.” He looked like he was struggling to come up with more words. Finally he seemed to find his ability to speak again and said, “Actually, do you mind if I sit by you at lunch sometime? I can’t tomorrow because I have a Student Council meeting, but would you let me on Friday?”

Grace nodded, her brown eyes sparkling. “I’d like that.” She looked at me with an amused smile. “You can sit by us too, Bracken.”

I let out a theatrical sigh of relief. “Good, ‘cause I was coming anyway.” I patted Jordan’s shoulder. “We’re kind of a package deal.”

“I’d hate to ruin your bromance,” Grace said with a small smile.

“Freckles, you already have.” I shook my head mockingly and wiggled my finger at her.

Jordan promptly shoved me into the wall.

“I’ll see you on Friday, Grace,” he said with a parting smile before seizing me by my shirt and hauling me away, grumbling about how ‘great’ a friend I was in much less friendlier terms. Which, I was a great friend. He was just in denial. And so he dragged me down the hall while voicing complaints that he probably wouldn’t have voiced any louder than a grumble. No one even really turned to stare at us. They knew by now that Jordan dragging me down the hallway while grumbling about where my body would be found the next morning was a weekly occurrence.

Luckily for him, he was broad shouldered and lean and able to drag me rather easily.

Unluckily for me, he was broad shouldered and lean and able to drag me rather easily.

“I officially hate your guts!” He said as he pulled me along none too gently.

I nodded. “Yes, but you’ll officially love my guts when she agrees to be your girlfriend. So I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you, Bracken! You’re the vested friend and so amazing and I’m so thankful you saved my butt because I can’t talk to girls!’”

He groaned.

I shrugged. “Hey, but you owe me one. I got Grace to talk to you. And she seemed to enjoy the conversation, even if you nearly called her ugly,” I said.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t call her ugly.”

“Did you see her face when you nearly called her ugly?”

His eyes filled with anger again. “I didn’t call her ugly!”

“Yes, I know. But you nearly called her ugly.”

He reached for my shirt again, probably so he could get a better angle at which to punch my face, but I ducked out of the way and ran around the corner, laughing, before he could catch me.