Page 136 of The Incredible Ordinary

I’ve never had that with anybody—the ability to communicate without words. And I’m still not quite sure how we got here. It’s been a whirlwind of pieces clicking into place, leading me to this moment.

Scary as shit.

I don’t know what to do with him. How not to be scared.

How to be enough.

Because I wasn’t for Kira.

Aiden clears his throat behind Milán.

Milán ignores him for another moment until I grin and lean past Milán.

“Hey,” I say. “They let you see the sunlight on occasion? How did that happen?”

“Sunlight?” Aiden looks around. “Is that what that bright ball up there is?”

We grin at each other. I met him during Christmas, and I’ve hung out with him plenty of times by now.

And while I didn’t think we’d have much of anything in common, on account of him being a genius neurosurgeon and me being a high school dropout, I like him a lot, and by some strange twist of fate, the feeling seems to be mutual. You’d think we’d have nothing to talk about, but somehow we always find plenty to discuss.

I lead them both to the seats I’ve been holding for us just as the second half is starting.

“How’s it going?” Milán asks as Rory jogs back onto the field.

“We’re down by one,” I say. “How was the meeting? Everything okay?”

I look between Milán and Aiden.

“The paperwork is finalized. Signed and done.”

I nod.

“Are you gonna tell Rory?”

“That once he turns twenty-one he’s getting access to a trust fund with a shitload of Gerard’s money?” He shakes his head. “Frankly, I’m still not sure we’re even doing the right thing by not putting up more obstacles to that trust. It’s a lot of money. It can really fuck people up.”

“It’s his inheritance, so there’s not much we can do,” Aiden says.

“He’s only thirteen,” I say. “So you have eight years to make sure he knows what really matters in life.”

We all glance at the field where Rory has the ball. He gets it right at the box. From the sidelines, you can see the decision happening in his mind. He wants to take the shot.

He does, and it’s a beauty, arcing, spinning.

We’re all halfway out of our seats.

It hits the crossbar with a violent clang.

Half the stadium groans.

Rory slaps his hands on top of his head and looks up into the sky. Theo jogs up to him, bumps his shoulder, and says something that makes Rory’s shoulders relax. He laughs, and Theo throws his arm across Rory’s shoulders and gives him a quick side hug before they run back into position.

“You grew up with money, and you seem to be doing fine.” I glance at Milán.

He snorts out a self-deprecating laugh. “That’s debatable.”

“I like you,” I say.