Jordan is a Tomboy. Plain and simple, anyone who says different, they can go to hell.
My finger hovered over the send button, but as always swiftly clicked the delete instead.
I heard footsteps from downstairs, angry harsh ones, probably Jeff coming in from a bad night at the pub.
I put my ear to the door and heard him stomp his way to his bedroom, then slam the door shut.
I bit my lip and glanced out the window, even though it was 3:43 am the city lights were as bright as ever and the cars revved up and down the road.
I hear some men yelling down the street, drunk probably, I crossed my fingers hoping that Jess wasn't out there with them.
I slid down to the cold floorboards and sat there hugging my knees.
There was a draft coming from the window, as always.
It wasn't open but the cracks and holes in it gave the breeze as much room as it needed to squeeze its way in.
I stood up and trudged my way over to the window to close our makeshift curtains.
But I didn't.
Instead, I hopped on top of my wooden desk and looked out.
I could see the black silhouettes of the drunken men yelling hoarsely. The not uncommon speeding cars narrowly missing the parked ones.
The ground littered with empty pringle packets, half-eaten takeaways and beer bottles.
It wasn't particularly windy today but a soft breeze blew the few leaves left of the autumn fall. I was even colder on my desk, I pulled up my sleeves of my hoody and rubbed my thighs and toes red.
I didn't bother closing the curtains or even moving. I just sat there and watched the drunk men proceed down the street.
I wished Jess was here, we weren't actually blood sisters, we were both adopted. I had been adopted 4 years ago, Jess had been here a year before me.
I remembered those 6 months, those six when I had actually had a family when I actually felt loved.
But then Marie died.
Jeff changed, a lot.
I slipped back into my bad habits, and slowly so did Jess...