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It’s after 10 p.m. before Mrs. Jourdan and I get back on the road. I listened to her friends talk about high school and growing up in Smalltown. Mrs. Jourdan was not born and raised here, but came from Louisiana while in high school. Following graduation, she studied in France which is where she met Mr. Jourdan and started their family. I knew all of this from JJ, but I listened anyway.
“So,” Mrs. Jourdan says and then yawns. “Did you have fun?”
“Yes ma’am. Thank you.”
“Oh don’t thank me, Dearest. It was my pleasure. However, I wasn’t just talking about Karaoke. Did you have fun at the party last night?”
My eyes bulge. I swear JJ tells his parents everything, but not in a snitch type of way. He’s just very open with them. I don’t know if I should answer. I’m almost positive he didn’t tell her everything.
We ride without talking for a moment.
“You know, Clove,” Mrs. Jourdan begins again. “I know you have your Gram, but if you need me or if you ever want to talk, I want you to call me, ok?”
“Yes ma’am.” A few questions come to mind, but I go with the first one that sticks out most.
“Was there ever a time you thought about dating one of your friends? Like, when y'all were going to school together?”
She ponders my question. “Mmmmm, not really. We’ve all pretty much been just friends. Mya and Jeremy dated for a little bit and realized that it just wasn’t right for them. Thankfully, they hadn’t gotten in too deep and it didn’t ruin the friendship.”
I’m grateful that she doesn’t ask me why I had asked the question. I change the subject.
“My dad doesn’t want to let me go to the dance and I don’t understand why. He went to dances when he was my age. He got to go to movies with girls and date and stuff. Why won’t he let me do these things?”
Mrs. Jourdan stops at a red light. “Your father is just doing what dads sometimes do. You’re young and pretty and he wants to protect you from everything, but you’re both learning that’s not possible. No one can protect everyone from everything. I can tell you do’s and don’ts but either you’ll heed them or experience them.”
I get that. Jessa had warned me not to hang out with Trevor. I chose experience as a lesson and it sucked. Apparently, it sucked way too hard because I feel like I have the mark of the beast on my neck. Mrs. Jourdan said nothing about the scarf I chose to wear tonight even though it's warm.
“How will I know if I’ve met the right person?” I ask.
She smiles slightly. “What right person are you looking for? You want someone to love you or like you? Hook up with or be friends with?”
I’m not sure that I’m looking for either of those things. But I understand that my usage of the word “right” wasn’t right.
I breathe in deeply. Mrs. Jourdan talks without my answers.
“The right person will push you to be your best self and bring out all the good in you that you didn’t even know you had. Someone that truly loves you, knows your value and your worth. They respect you and your body. Does that make sense?”
That clears up quite a few things for me. “Yes ma’am.” I say quietly.
If it wasn’t clear last night that Trevor is not the person for me, it’s crystal clear now. In hindsight, I knew where he was leading me when he took my hand but I didn’t say anything. And when he patted the space beside him on the bed, warning signals shot off everywhere, but I ignored them. When he went straight for my neck while simultaneously unbuttoning my shirt, I still said nothing. There were mixed sensations that I was feeling; agitation, fear, pleasure and needing to feel wanted. Before Trevor’s hand could reach the button on my jeans, I pushed him away.
“I don’t wanna do this,” I said.
“Really?” he asked. “I thought you were down.”
I shook my head. “No, not like this. This isn’t right.”
“It’s right for me,” Trevor said. “You had to have known the reason I was bringing you in here.”
In the back of my mind I thought that him trying to sleep with me might’ve been the reason, but I was hoping that maybe he just wanted to talk.
“Don’t you want us to get to know each other better?” I asked.
He went for my neck again.“I am trying to get to know you better.”
I pushed him away. “No, that’s not what I mean. Maybe we can just talk?”
Trevor blinked at me in disbelief. “Now you wanna talk? You barely say anything to me. Thought you just wanted to hook up.”
I couldn’t believe that was the impression he got from me. Just because I didn’t talk much didn’t mean I wanted to fool around instead.
“Why you even wanna go to the dance with me if you ain’t gon’ let me smash?” he asked.
I hated the word “smash.” I wasn’t some fruit or cake that could be crumbled. The fact that he even used that word was a turn off in itself. When I do have sex, it has to be for love, with love and out of love. I felt so stupid. I hadn’t made up my mind about what I wanted until that very moment and it was all so late.
I quickly buttoned my shirt. “You know what,” I said. “I shoulda known you were trash. You weren’t trying very hard to get to know me either.”
“Actually, I was,” Trevor leered at me like I was a tasty Ho Ho cake.
I shuddered in disgust and wished I could press rewind. “The parts of me you were trying to get to know will never ever be in your view again.”
He rubbed his chin with a smile. “I saw what I wanted to see. We’re good.”
Someone knocked on the door and opened it before he could reply. Mars walked in with a red cup in her hand. She acted as though she didn’t see me. She and Trevor started talking in code. It was full of acronyms and terminology that I didn’t understand. Before I could leave the room, they were all over each other.
“Mrs. Jourdan—” I begin. She cuts me off and taps my knee. “Just call me Mama Jourdan,” she tells me.
“Mama Jourdan. What if I’ve found a person like you’ve described, but...but...”
I can’t talk to her about her son, can I? It’d be obvious who I was talking about, because out of all them, I’ve spent the most time with JJ.
Mama Jourdan drives and hums and then she asks me, “What do you know about this Tisha girl Jonah’s going to the dance with?”
She’s awful. That’s what I want to say, but I try to think of something nice or something positive.
“We’ve known her since elementary,” I finally come up with. Mama Jourdan waits for me to say more.
She turns her palm up. “That’s all you got for me?” she asks. “I met her once but she was acting fake. Moms can see right through that mess. Jonah brought her over and she’s pretty but I need to know what else. Keep it real with me, Clove.”
I forgo the nice talk and just tell her what I know about Tisha and everything she’s ever done to me. “I don’t know why JJ wants to go with Tisha. He’s too good for her. She’s all nasty and mean and he’s good-hearted, honest, kind, funny, compassionate, caring, and he’s highly intelligent. I feel like I can talk to JJ about anything. He always volunteers random information and it’s so nerdy that all I can do is laugh. And he always knows when or when not to talk, sometimes it’s like he’s in my head and-”
I stop myself.
I’m rambling on and on. If my mission was to keep my feelings for JJ a secret, I’d failed. My cheeks feel warm and I twirl my hair between my fingers.
“Hmmmmm,” Mrs. Jourdan says. “Sounds like he shouldn’t be going to the dance with Tisha.”