Jordan - And So It Begins

He wouldn't . . . would he?

Jordan is lying on her bed, blue eyes directed at the ceiling, unfocused. In one week, she will leave her room in a perfect dress, to be waltzed off to a coming-out ball, to become a D.A.R. debutante, as her mother once did.

But Miss Hilton does not yet have a date.

It was her mother's idea to ask Matthew Edrington — who better suited? To be introduced into society on the arm of the senator's son would certainly make for an appropriately impressive start.

Jordan was relieved to hear her mother suggest Matthew. Her thoughts have been wandering along the same track for several weeks now, particularly during Trig. Third period, room 161, front seat, fourth row — Matthew Edrington. It amazes Jordan that she can maintain an A in math when she sit a mere two rows over and one seat back, with him in plain view.

But he'd never go with me, Jordan tells herself again. I'm sure a dozen girls have asked him. I mean, he's . . . he's so perfect. So smart, so handsome. I can't believe I'm asking any Senior out, let alone him. Why would he go out with me? I'm nothing. I'm not smart at all . . . not like him . . .

She sent a letter to Matthew yesterday. She couldn't, after all, ask him in person, or over the phone; she's known him much too long for that. She likes him much too much to face him with such a question. And if he says no . . .

A knock on the door and her mother's voice: "Jordan?"

"Yes, Mama?"

"Letter for you. From Matthew."

Jordan stands, heart double-beating, fingers crossed behind her back, and goes to retrieve the epistle.

Please, God, let him say yes. . . .

"Well, what does it say, dear?"

An extreme effort to remain calm, nonchalant, to avoid the too-knowledgeable eyes of her psychiatrist mother. "Matthew says he'll take me."

Thank You!

posted at 11:12 a.m. on 01-12-03