Page 17 of The Incredible Ordinary

“I don’t care. Anything,” he blurts. “I have friends there, and he’s gonna tell them I’m a loser or something. Or maybe he’s really good at soccer and will push me out of the team.”

“You’regood at soccer. It’s not a one or the other situation. And besides, I don’t think he’s ever played before.”

He thinks about that for a moment before he nods, head moving against mine, hair tickling the side of my face.

“I can talk to them if you really don’t want him to try his hand at soccer. We’ll figure something else out.”

There’s another long moment of him thinking things through before he blows out a breath. “It’s fine. It’ll make it too obvious it’s because of me if you start changing stuff now.”

He’s probably right about that. I don’t know where he got that levelheadedness from. Not Kira. Certainly not me. I’ve done a lot of work to suppress my impulsive side over the years. You don’t get your girlfriend pregnant at the grand old age of fourteen by thinking things through and making sensible decisions.

“You sure?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah. It’s fine. I’ll deal.”

I turn my head and kiss his temple. “You’re one of the good ones, kiddo.”

The smile is minuscule, but it’s there.

“It’s why you chose me at the hospital,” he says.

“I did have a good feeling about you.” I make a thoughtful face. “The one I switched you with looked like trouble.”

He lets out a reluctant snort.

“I’ll go take a shower, and then we can play a round of cards?”

He scrunches his nose. “Maybe some other time?”

“Okay. Don’t stay up too late.”

He nods and goes back to staring at the ceiling.

It’s only once I’m in my room, safely away from prying eyes that I let the smile fall. I sit down on the edge of my bed and drag my fingers through my hair.

My phone pings. I take a glance at it. The message is from Kira. It’s another list of great high schools that are conveniently located in San Francisco. I don’t have the energy to deal with this tonight.

I drop down on my back, eyes on the ceiling. Instead of having my thoughts circle how things stand with Kira, my mind wanders to Milán.

And then I smile.

MILÀN

I glanceat my watch for about the hundredth time. Then I check my phone. Also for about the hundredth time. I lift the phone to my ear and listen to the dial tone. Nobody picks up. That, too, happens for the hundredth time today.

I pace back and forth while I eye all the possible directions that lead to the stadium.

No Rory.

Fantastic.

I had a feeling I should’ve handcuffed him to me when he left the house this morning to make sure he made it to soccer practice, but I figured they wouldn’t look on it favorably at school if one of the students had some random grown-ass man cuffed to him.

I was supposed to pick him up at home and come to practice. He didn’t show up. I waited until the last possible moment before I made my way to the stadium, which brings us to now and the sinking feeling inside me.

He’s not going to show.

Fan. Fucking. Tastic.