Page 18 of The Incredible Ordinary

I clench my jaw tighter. It’s not the first time Rory’s disappeared from school and been gone for hours withoutpicking up his phone, and where I’m usually worried more than annoyed, right now I’m mostly pissed.

I stuff my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and clutch my neck while I stare at the sky.

“Fuck!” I mutter.

“Things are going that well, huh?”

I whirl around at the voice from behind me and meet Jordan’s amused gaze.

“Yeah,” I say. “Just out of curiosity, is it essential for Rory to actually physically be here for soccer? Or is it, perhaps, enough if he’s here, say… in spirit?”

He steps closer and takes a cursory glance down the street before he looks at me.

“Should we be worried about the missing thirteen-year-old?”

“I’m gonna be honest here, being worried isn’t my first instinct right now.” I blow out a breath. “It’s not unusual for him to not come straight home after school,” I admit. This already doesn’t make me sound like the best parental figure, so I stop myself from giving him a rundown about how a lot of days Rory is gone well past dinnertime and firmly headed toward call-the-police-and-file-a-missing-persons-report territory because I have no clue where he might be.

How I’ve enabled location sharing on his phone only for him to disable it, I’ve grounded him and given endless lectures—all of it with no results.

Amazingly, when I finally brave a look in Jordan’s direction, it doesn’t feel like he’s judging me. Or maybe he’s just good at hiding it.

I eye him warily.

He’s dressed in a pair of charcoal gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt that’s half tucked into the waistband of the sweats. It highlights his narrow waist and is a grave reminder that I haven’t been to the gym in months. And that’s not even thebiggest issue with my looks right now. There’s also the fact that my hair is getting too long. I’m wearing jeans that have a rip just below my ass. My shirt has so many wrinkles in it that the wrinkles themselves have wrinkles, and there’s a ranch stain on the front of it. It’s faint, but it’s there.

I’m really winning at life.

Half a year ago, this wasn’t me. Sure, I wasn’t at the top of my game then either, but I sure as hell wasn’t out of my depth like this. And at least I looked good, which goes a long way when you want to hide what a mess you are inside.

“I guess I better get out of your hair. And…” I take a fortifying breath to prepare myself. “I’ll go talk to the principal and explain that we need to figure out some other way to handle this. I’m sorry.”

He stops me with a hand on my arm. Warm fingers wrap around my forearm and stay there.

“Relax.” He lets out a small laugh and his thumb starts to move in circular motion, massaging the rigid muscle. “Seriously. You’re all tense. Take a few deep breaths and let’s figure this out.”

The way he says it is so self-assured and confident that I have the ridiculous urge to slump against him and let him take over. Let him figure shit out for me. I have never felt more pathetic and incompetent in my life. It’s goddamn humbling.

“Rory might just be late,” he says. “Stuck in traffic?”

I do take those few deep breaths, and he smiles at me. This is clearly him being reassuring, but it’s also sexy. Unintentionally so, I figure. Still. Sexy.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll show you around while we wait.”

I follow him into the stadium.

“Locker rooms are down there.” He points to a dimly lit corridor on my left. The walls haven’t seen a new coat of paint forhalf a century, and half the lights are just bulbs hanging on wires from the ceiling.

“It looks like crap,” Jordan says cheerfully. “The girls’ locker room looked worse, so that was renovated first. Boys will get their turn sometime next year, provided we get the money. I’m trying to get some grants, but it’s slow going.”

He motions for me to follow, and after a short walk we end up on the field itself, where rows of kids are running up and down with soccer balls in front of them, moving between cones and lines on the grass in surprisingly well coordinated chaos.

The way these kids are moving that ball effortlessly through the maze of hurdles looks pretty fucking impressive.

I should really swear less. Even in my head.

I turn to glance at Jordan. “Remind me what you said last time? Something about not being a very good team?”

“We’re not. We’re only eighth on our league’s cup right now.”