In Between Days: Raising Jordan (boyxman)✅

Blitzkrieg Bop

Jamie

He's not like Gavin. He's nothing like him...I kept telling myself. While Jordan most definitely was nothing like my deceased boyfriend, I hadn't felt anything like this since him. The feeling was the same and it happened so fast. I was afraid to fall in love again, convinced I'd never survive another heartbreak or loss. It was easier to have a "friends-with-benefits" type of relationship or better yet, one with no strings attached like Brendan. With Brendan, there were no expectations; just sex.

Gavin Anderson was outgoing, funny, and smart, a high school Biology teacher. A colleague of mine, we met while I was a student teacher at Boston High. He had already been teaching for a few years before we met. Tim never really paid much attention to my love life, except for when I alternated between men and women. He couldn't figure that out. Neither could I, but there were plenty of bisexual men and women around; I just wasn't one of them.

Gavin struggled with diabetes his entire life. When Gavin was twenty-seven, his twenty-three year old brother donated one of his kidneys. The kidney transplant failed and not long after he started dialysis. I'd drop him off at the dialysis center everyday after school and pick him up at eight—it was a five hour process three days a week. And then, after all that, his body finally gave out and I was the one who held his hand as he passed away on the morning of November 2nd. He didn't deserve to die at thirty. At only twenty-five, I was convinced I'd never find love like him again.

Until this little shit named Jordan came along.

How could I have ever let myself get involved with Jordan Cameron? He was only nineteen and naive and innocent with a whole set of problems Tim merely alluded to. Still, I couldn't help the way I felt. I knew I couldn't leave. I didn't want to leave until the very last minute...until that very last minute in the airport when "last call" was announced.

"You need a shower," I said, finding Jordan back in my room in a pair of khaki shorts and a t-shirt, ready to go. We were going fishing, something I hadn't done since I was a teenager.

"Why? We're only going to get all sweaty again," he said. "I'll take one later."

"Yeah, right. You'll just go swimming and that's the end of that."

"Come on, let's go," he said.

"Take a shower first," I said, stepping into him. He stepped into me, too, but unlike me, he kissed me. "No," I said against his lips. "Take a shower." As he backed away from me, I knew he wasn't going to take one. He went downstairs instead and packed a mini cooler full of Coke and water. Once he was satisfied we had everything he thought we needed, we were off.

"Hey ho, let's go. Hey ho, let's go," Jordan and I sang to the classic lyrics of the Ramones' Blitzkrieg Bop on the top of our lungs as I drove down the winding country roads. The Ramones were probably one of his favorite bands of all time. We continued to sing...

"They're forming in a straight line.
They're going through a tight wind.
The kids are losing their minds.
The blitzkrieg bop."

Jordan had a pretty good singing voice...for punk rock, anyway. Not only that, he was more animated and happiest when he was singing. I wasn't sure Tim knew that about him.

When I was six or so, my dad took me fishing for the first time at Long Lake, about forty-five minutes away from our house. It was good place to start for beginner fishermen. Jordan and I rented a row boat and fishing poles, neither of which Jordan knew anything about. Jordan attempted to row, but didn't get very far.

"Fuck this," he said, annoyed, letting go of the oars. I had to be quick to catch them before they floated away. While I took over, Jordan sulked in his seat.