Page 111 of The Incredible Ordinary

We just are.

Two people who feel ridiculously comfortable with each other. Never once in my life have I felt this at ease with somebody. Being with Jordan is more comfortable than being alone with myself. I’m not sure when or how that happened, but it has.

I look at him, and my throat goes dry and my heart starts to pound, but it doesn’t stop me from asking, because the need to be with him is bigger than fear.

“Will I see you later?” I ask.

He smiles. “I’d be really disappointed if you didn’t.”

The evening comes too fast.I’m a bit of a mess, swinging like a pendulum between excitement about seeing him and fear that we’re inching closer and closer to the point of no return, never hitting the right balance.

I dress with more care than I have in years because I’m not dressing for myself. I’m dressing for him.

“It’s just dinner,” I mutter to myself. It does shit all to stop the nerves. Right now I’m not even sure anymore if I’m nervous because a big part of me is screaming that it’s not a good idea and it’ll ruin everything, because I don’t want to take too deep of a look at the insanity of everything I’m starting to feel for Jordan, or if it’s the uncertainty of thinking it’s a date when neither of us has actually called it that.

If I run headfirst into the wall, will it knock some sense into me?

Footsteps stomp past my door, and I don’t have time to close it. Rory goes past the door, and I blow out a breath in relief, but he backtracks and appears in the doorway a second later, frowning at me.

“What?” I ask with a sigh, adjusting my tie.

He takes an uncertain step inside. Just the one. Then he stops again.

“Is there a parent-teacher conference tonight?” He eyes me with an even deeper frown.

“No.”

“Then why do you look like that?” He waves his hand at me.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Like what?”

“Like you’re going to a funeral.”

“How are those two things even remotely connected when it comes to what I’m wearing?”

Instead of answering, he wanders farther into the room and scrunches his nose after he sniffs pointedly. “Smells weird.”

I take an alarmed sniff of my armpit. All I can smell is soap, detergent, and cologne.

When I look back at Rory he’s trying very hard not to laugh. I grab a pillow from my bed and lob it at his head. He jumps out of the way and snickers with clear glee.

“You’re a monster,” I say.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, looking very pleased with himself as he nods toward me. “You still look weird.”

“What’s weird about trying to look nice?”

“It’s just me and Aiden here. So… weird.”

“Don’t you have something better to do with your time? Shouldn’t you try and sneak in more screen time or get extra junk food or whatever it is kids do these days?”

He ignores me and tilts his head to the side. “Do you just, like, dress up and then admire yourself in the mirror?”

I sigh and adjust my tie.

“Are you trying to get into someone’s pants?” he asks.

“You’re thirteen.”