So Hard to Make Them Fly

Chapter One: Dreams, inconsistent

Summary: Angela can't bring herself to forgive Rayanne and has lost all of her friends as a result of it. The only constant in her life is her faux relationship with Jordan which becomes more and more intense, making her want to give it another try.

She sat mesmerized by the way his fingers grazed the strings. It was like the fluidity of a waterfall, maneuvering with such care and with hints of a talent given by a higher power. With one quick strum of the guitar, she was gone. With another, she was his.

This is where Angela had spent the past few nights, watching whatever shows Jordan and his new group played. She watched with accusing eyes, which revealed that she knew about him and Rayanne.

Anytime she had the courage to change her view from his guitar, the very essence of his beauty, to his face, Jordan was staring back at her, but it wasn't with his usual blank stare. Instead, she saw a worry on his face that bordered to fear.

He would look at her, all his guards stripped away, letting her in. Angela looked away as she recognized the shift in the tempo, key, and mood of the piece. She held her breath for a moment and closed her eyes. 'Red.'

With a few lyrics about red hair, Jordan had made her think that he was referring to her. Even with all the mixed emotions of hate for him, and jealousy that Rayanne had been intimate on a level with Jordan that Angela hadn't reached, she continued to go to their shows. Wherever they were, whatever plans she had made … it didn't stand for anything.

Like a drug addict, she was consumed with him. She needed her fix. Her path and Jordan's would not diverge. As the song came to an end, Angela noticed that the music had stopped playing. Jordan's voice droned over the microphone. He was closing the show.

As quickly as she could, Angela paid her tab and took her coat. She needed to get out before they were done to avoid being face to face with him. There were a plethora of emotions running through her at the moment, the foremost being infatuation.

"Thanks." Angela smiled at her waitress Cindy. She was only a few years older than Angela, 19 and a high school drop out.

"Take it easy kiddo." Cindy answered as Angela rushed towards the exit. Phew, she had made it. As Angela pulled on her thick, black gloves, she felt that she wasn't alone. The air had changed that quickly, within a few seconds.

"Catalano!" Someone yelled as Angela determined that she would not turn around, never mind the strong art of her that was begging for it—a few seconds of seeing him face-to-face. Maybe she wouldn't turn around completely, but just a little bit. If she made her move small enough, Angela could get another look at Jordan without him even noticing her.

Angela had been standing still for so long, she barely noticed the awkward angle that her body was tilting, but how much did that matter when her main infatuation was just a few feet away from her? Angela was just so focused on Jordan.

The way the small lines creased his forehead whenever he was around his friends, just a little, like his silence had this like this huge meaning. Angela watched in awe as her gaze met his and for a moment she could swear that she could see Jordan for who he really was—raw, untamed, and with an untouched beauty that called to her.

His eyes were pleading her, digging through her very skin for the same type of salvation, redemption that which was not yet ready to give.

As Angela turned her body away from his, ever so slightly, she heard a small clanking sound. The small purse, which she had jus gotten into the habit for keeping, tumbled to the ground, toppling all the contents it once contained.

In a frantic hurry, Angela rushed to put everything back in its place. Just like that, she had been brought back into the real world, awoken from all her dreamlike thoughts. Angela didn't know Jordan Catalano and she just had to face that. He was like practically a stranger. Her earlier display, the staring, would just chase him away and make her a freak.

"Hmm." Angela turned to face Jordan for the second time that night. His icy blue eyes were looking way, down at her spilt lipstick, wallet, and condom Rayanne had given her for luck. In fact, everything in that purse screamed "Rayanne Graft" not Angela Chase.

"Sorry. I'm a klutz." Angela muttered, not bothering to cover up the condom, hoping that it would make Jordan think things that weren't true about her. Then, she felt stupid for admitting that to him.

With a swift motion, all of the items had been swept back into her bag.

Angela observed his muscular hands again, realizing that they had never been this close before … not in a way that like … counted. Hand by hand. Nose by nose, feeling his breathe intertwine and dance with hers. It was like their bodies had their own special song—far away from their past mistakes, their failed high school romance—it was like their bodies were longing for some sort of … intimacy, a touch, shared thoughts, secrets, and everything in between.

Jordan looked at Angela with a small smirk, handing her the purse.

"Thanks." Angela squeaked, disappointed that that moment had passed.

"Uh-huh." Jordan whispered as his hand brushed hers ever so slightly. It lingered there for a while, between fully embracing her hand and between touching the air. Jordan was just … paused like he was going to utter the words that Angela had been longing to hear—"Let's go somewhere."

But, with the summoning of band mate Tino, Jordan was out. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than two minutes, but for Angela it was permanently engrained into her brain. She just sighed, not because she was relieved, but because she was disappointed.

"Good job Chase."

"Talking to yourself now Angela?" Sharon walked to the back of club and stopped to talk to her once- best friend.

"Nobody else is around anymore." Angela looked down, unable to face Sharon.

"I'm not here to make you feel bad Angela. That won't change anything … well, actually it'll make me feel better." Sharon smiled. "I'm really here to ask you a huge favor."

"I hope it's nothing too big." Angela sighed.

"Just … will you share a cab with me?" Sharon asked still smiling so hard that no one would know what she was really thinking. "But, I don't have any money with me. I walked down here--

" Sharon, are insane? Something could have happened to you. This is downtown."

"I came from my boyfriend's house." Sharon answered, as Angela nodded, trying not to look down. Of the things she had heard about Robbie, none of them were good, and by the look of desperation Sharon was giving her now, there was some truth to that.

"Look Sharon, I know we aren't friends are anything, but it's okay with me if you want to stay over."

"Really?" Sharon's face lit up instantly.

"Yeah. My list of friends is running a little low right now."

(A/N: I need reviews please. What do you think of it? I know I need to get off the Angela-Jordan thing, but … whatever. I hope you like it. And don't be scared to be honest in your reviews or to review at all. I just like to know that people are reading and have an opinion about what I write. –NL)