I drove home, packed some bags and hopped into my car. I drove for about an hour and half before I pulled up to a gas station. I went in picked up a few snacks and some water and headed back to my car. I had Marianas Trench blasting when my phone rang. "Hello, mother," I automatically said as I answered my phone. "You really need to stop doing that, you know it scares me," she barked back. "It scares you that I have caller ID, you should really try it sometime," I replied. "Now don't be smart, Sugar Pea. When do you think you will be here?" she questioned. "I'll call you back when I know." I hung up. I made the rest of the drive blaring my favorite songs. I pulled around the bend and saw the oh-so-familiar well and the big old sign with my family's name on it. I pulled up and saw my mom sitting on the porch. I got out of my car and my mom literally tackled me. For a 65 year old woman, she's got some skills. "Hi Mom," I said. "Welcome home, Sugar Pea. There is food on the counter if. ” Raising her hand to shake again, she said, “My name’s Jordan.” She didn’t lean back and her voice was low. I realized the spokeswoman was talking again and Jordan didn’t want to disturb anyone else around us.I looked at Jordan’s hand and noticed how her arm pressed to the side of her chest. Once again, I didn’t want take my eyes off her, and even though I wasn’t looking down her shirt, I still felt bad about it. She probably didn’t realize how she affected me. It wasn’t her fault. She was very pretty, and I was a boy who didn’t know how to control himself. However, her overall demeanor made me believe that she wasn’t mad.I shifted my shoulders to square off with hers, because her hand was so close to my chest, I couldn’t shake it otherwise. There had been very few times I had ever touched anyone, which included shaking hands. No one in my hometown would touch me if given the choice and I felt the same about most of them. When I shook Jordan’s hand, my heart raced and I felt a jolt.
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