The Outcast - Chapter Sixteen

It's Saturday, so I don't have to go to school and be tormented by McAllen again, which is definitely a good thing. I hate him. But, at least Jordan woke up yesterday, and that's all that matters. For a while I thought he was a goner, though I truly hate to admit it.

I knock on Jazz's door, and she answers, letting me in. I ask how Jordan's doing, but she shrugs and says that he's the same as yesterday, which means he's still doing okay and is waking up a little. I smile to myself as I head toward Jordan's room. I open the door and enter slowly.

Jordan's eyes snap open and he looks over at me. "Hey," he says in greeting, his voice still sounding rather weak and unused. I smile at him and come closer to the bed.

"Hey," I say back. "How're you feeling?"

He sighs. "Okay, I guess. My head is killing me, but Jazz won't give me anything for it. She says I don't need to be taking pills, because I'm still recovering. Yadda yadda."

I smile at him. He's acting like his old self a little, and I'm grateful for that. I sigh and turn my head away. "I...I'm sorry," I mumble.

He looks at me for a moment. "What for?"

"I'm the reason you're like this. I'm...I'm sorry..." I glare at the ground as I speak.

"Hey," he says. "It's not your fault. Honest. And even if it was, I would forgive you."

I stiffen. "Thank you..." I whisper.

"No problem," he says.

There's a commotion downstairs, and we both freeze, listening. Jazz screams and then I'm immediately throwing Jordan's door open, racing toward the sound of her voice. But the scream is cut off, and by the time I get to where I left her, no one's there.

"...Jazz?" I ask into the silence of the room, my heart pounding painfully hard against the inside of my chest. "Jazz, where are you? Jazz!"

I search around frantically, through every room, but no one is there. I keep calling out her name, but there's never an answer. The front door stands ajar, letting me know that something is seriously wrong. I can't imagine Jazz leaving the door open of her own free will.

"Jazz!" I yell, poking my head out the door. "Where are you? Jazz!"

There's a noise coming from Jordan's room. My eyes widen, and I fear he's being taken too. I can't lose him, too. I can't lose them both. I race toward his room and throw the door open. No one's there, except Jordan, who's leaning against the wall, standing. My eyes widen even further, and I race to him.

"Jordan, what are you doing?" I nearly scream at him. "Are you crazy? You should be resting!"

His eyes are clenched closed in pain, sweat beading his forehead, his face deathly pale. "W-Where's...Jazz?" he whispers to me.

"I...I don't know," I answer truthfully, feeling deflated.

"...Gotta...find her...." his breaths are heavy and labored. I shake my head.

"Not right now," I said. "You should be in bed. Lie down."

He shakes his head and gasps. I figure that his world is spinning, what with the head rush he is sure to have gotten. "No...gotta...f-find her...." he isn't sounding too good. Worry sparks in my mind, and I forget about Jazz for the time being, knowing that he needs to lie down.

"Later," I say. "You have to rest. You can't help her like this."

"No..."

"Yes, Jordan. Lie down before you fall down."

"Can't...Jazz."

I grab his arm as he starts to stumble forward. I hurry and catch him before he can hit the ground and cause more damage. "Please," I say softly. "Lie down."

"Jazz..."

"I know," I said. "I'll do what I can. In the meantime, you need to rest. Please, Jordan?"

He sighs shakily. "Okay...f-for now..."

I nod and, together, we head toward the bed. He lies down I pull the covers up around him. I wonder, briefly, how much damage his little walk would have caused, but then figure that he's just tired and needs to rest. He used his energy up trying to get up. I think he should be okay.

I hope so, anyway. "Stay here and rest," I said. "I'll be around, looking for Jazz."

He says nothing, staring at the ceiling. He has this glazed look in his eyes, and it starts to scare me. I wave my hand in front of his face, but his eyes don't follow.

"Jordan?" I ask quietly. "Are you okay? Jordan?"

He doesnt answer.

"Jordan?" my voice grows louder. "Jordan, answer me. Are you okay?"

Still, no answer.

"Jordan!" I grab his arm and give him a small shake. He blinks his eyes for a moment, and then focuses on me.

"What?" he whispers.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my heart racing. "How're you feeling?" I fear that there's something terribly wrong with him, because of his little walk. He shouldn't have gotten up, I keep telling myself. He should have stayed in bed.

"Okay..." he mumbles. "Head hurts."

I frown. "Get some rest, maybe it'll die down. Will you be okay here alone?"

He sighs. "Sure."

I frown at him as I get to my feet. "I'll only be gone for a little while, Jordan. I'll be around, not far from here. Get some rest." I turn toward the door and exit his room.

Great. Now I have three things to worry about. One: the punk with the needle that seems to be killing people. Two: Jordan and his head injury. And three: Jazz, who seems to have gone missing.

What a day this is turning out to be.