TOUCH

Twenty Two.

Everyone is born to either be liked, tolerated, or despised. Jordan kept the people who liked her close. She ignored the ones who tolerated her, and for those who despised her, she returned the energy.

Respect is earned, and people tend to forget that. The black tradition of respecting every single adult was never something she practised. Sure they're older, but they can be assholes too. And Jordan can give you respect if you're an asshole in general, just don't be an asshole to her.

She recalls a moment when she was at the grocery store with her mother. Lisa had the tendency of allowing an old person behind her to go first. When Jordan asked why, she told her that it was how she was raised. That her mother had taught her to value the old, treat them kindly, and with respect. Unfortunately for Lisa, Jordan was in her woke era during that time. So taking time out of her own day to wait an extra minute in line, for an old lady she wasn't even sure was a good person didn't quite sit right in her 14 year old mind. When they stood in line that day, there was one young woman in front of them, and no one behind them. Her mother left her, giving her her credit card and telling her she would be back, and she forgot to take muffin mix for Liya's fundraiser at school. She told Jordan to just put the items through when the lady was done, and that she'd only take a second.

Just as she left, an old lady, about 60 years of age, stood behind her. She only had two things in her basket, while Jordan's cart filled to the brink. The old lady sweetly asked Jordan if she could go through first, as her things were few. Jordan smiled at her, apologizing before saying no. The lady seemed quite shocked, for some reason. The whole purpose of asking someone anything was to give them an option. That means to say that you should know there was a possibility they might say no. So why was it such a shock to her to hear it? The lady had cussed her off, telling her she was a spoilt, disrespectful brat, and saying how she hoped she would go to hell and burn while getting stabbed by devil's forks.

That was the first time Jordan had ever heard that many cuss words at once. All because she wouldn't do an act of kindness that was her choice. What if she was in a rush? Did the old lady consider that? No. Because she was thinking about herself alone. And the fact that she wouldn't take no for an answer was even more ludicrous. After that day, Jordan never helped another old lady again. If she didn't know her, she wouldn't help her. Old ladies need to understand that they were privileged to meet nice people, they shouldn't be entitled to it. No one is obligated to help them, they just choose to.

On this Friday morning, she'd gone to pick up Ian. Its something they began to do quite frequently. Ian told her how much he hated the bus because people teased him for wearing glasses. He told the wrong person, because Jordan ended up laughing her lungs out about how accurate the jokes were. Her personal favorite was 'blonde Harry Potter'.

As always, Ian made her wait an extra 30 minutes outside. It didn't help that she skipped breakfast today in avoidance of her stepmother, and had skipped supper the night before. So today, she simply could not sit and wait.

She hopped out of her car, resisting the urge to bang her door, reminding herself that her beautiful car had done nothing to spoil her day. It was Ian who needed to be banged...wait, ew.

She knocked on the door softly, trying not to be aggressive. Ian didn't live alone after all.

The door opened to an old lady who looked about in her 70s. She looked a bit like Ian. Only a bit. Maybe it was the eyes, they were a shade of blue like his.

Instead of smiling like most people would when they open the door for a guest, the old lady scowled, looking Jordan up and down.

"Can I help you?" the lady rasped.

With her hands in her pocket, and her face fixed to a callous expression, Jordan nodded.

"I'm looking for Ian."