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My Misunderstanding, Or My Stupid Lies Jordan was in her office surrounded by crumpled up papers and scattered pens. She knew she’d have to clean them up before she left – having someone see them wouldn’t be good, not at all – but for now, chucking them across the room was the only solace she had. She didn’t know exactly when Elliot had started sleeping with DJ again, only that they couldn’t be more obvious about it if they tried. They had even moved in together, for god’s sake. It might have been cheaper, but so would Jordan and Elliot living together, a concept Jordan found vaguely plausible, or at least had, before all this started. And maybe talking to Perry about it wasn’t the best of ideas. Jordan still wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but suddenly they were back together, or at least as together as they ever were. She tried to keep it under wraps, but not very hard. If Elliot didn’t care enough to be subtle with DJ, why should she bother to conceal Perry? Jordan looked down at the blank page in front of her, wondering exactly what she was doing. She still wasn’t sure if she was planning on breaking it off with Elliot or ordering her to dump DJ, though part of her knew she wouldn’t be happy without Elliot, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself. Eventually deciding on not deciding, she scrawled a quick note to meet her at her apartment at six, along with a threat to guarantee her appearance. She folded the paper as small as it would get, then wrote Elliot’s name on the front. She ran her hands through her hair before grabbing it and leaving the safety of her office, wondering where Elliot would be this time of day… - Elliot wasn’t stupid, despite what Jordan must have thought. She knew there weren’t board meetings that ran until past midnight once or twice a week, no matter how bad a mood Kelso was in. She knew when there wasn’t any reason the budget had to be fixed right now, this very second, which wasn’t most of the time. She also knew when Dr. Cox had had a particularly bad day, or when Jordan had started ignoring her again. It wasn’t all that hard to put together, but it still made her stomach clench every time she thought about it. She didn’t know if it was out of habit, or because Jordan needed a guy sometimes, or if it was just her, stupid, boring, clumsy Elliot, but it didn’t really matter in the long run, did it? What mattered was maybe if she ignored it for long enough, it would go away. Speak of the devil, Elliot thought to herself as Jordan appeared, stalking down the hallway looking like she was about to kill the next person who opened their mouth in her presence. She brushed passed Elliot, not saying anything, or even looking at her. Elliot glared after her and was tempted to yell at her, then decided this might not be the best time. Instead she blew her bangs out of her face and looked down at the chart she was holding. A folded piece of paper lay on the clipboard, her name scrawled in Jordan’s nearly illegible handwriting. Elliot stared at it, wondering how she could’ve gotten it there without her noticing. She picked it up, about to open it when her pager went off. “Frick!” - Two codes and ten patients later Elliot found herself in the nearest supply closet, turning the note over in her hands. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous, but her hands were shaking as she finally unfolded the piece of paper. We need to talk. Be at my place at six or else. No signature, no heading, no nothing. Just a break-up cleverly disguised as a threat. Elliot sighed unsteadily, closing her eyes and trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall. She calmed down enough to glance at her watch – quarter of seven. “Double frick!” - Jordan went home early, finally deciding on a course of action. It took a half hour to clean the apartment, fifteen minutes to set up the candles, another half hour to take a shower and get dressed and five more minutes to light the candles and set out the bottle of wine. She surveyed the room and nodded – whatever happened, the apartment looked beautiful. What Jordan didn’t expect, or even consider as an option, was Elliot not showing up. But it was five past six, quarter past, then six-thirty, and still no sign of her. She sat on the couch, staring blankly at one of the candles. It dawned on her that she should probably blow them out before the apartment caught on fire and so she did, moving from one candle to the next, feeling empty. When she was done, she saw the bottle of wine and went straight towards it, deciding everything would be better once she had some alcohol. The wine was like a shock racing through her body. Suddenly she was angry, angrier than she had been since Ben died. With a vicious scream she threw the bottle across the room, taking dark joy in the way it exploded against the wall, spraying dark red wine everywhere. Jordan froze. There were footsteps outside the door, then a key in the lock, then the door opening, but it wasn’t Elliot, it was Perry, and his eyes widened as he took the scene in. “Jordan?” he asked softly. “Are you okay?” She sunk onto the couch, starting to cry, feeling indescribably lost and lonely. Perry was at her side in seconds, pulling her into a hug, kissing her back when her lips found his, allowing himself to be pulled down on top of her, gasping when her fingers found him through the thin fabric of his scrubs. “Sorry, I’m late; I didn’t even get a chance to read–” Jordan froze, fingers involuntarily tightening, Perry moaning in response, Elliot storming out, slamming the door behind her, Jordan jumping up and running after her. “Elliot, wait!” |
My 40 Snapshotsby Nicole Merrill |
