Page 21 of The Incredible Ordinary

He exhales and stares into the distance, lost in the memories for a minute before he snaps out of it. He squares his shoulders and gives me a self-deprecating smile. “How’s that for messy?”

I study him for a moment before I shake my head. “I have to be honest with you, you’re doing an abysmal job showing it. Could you maybe at least try to look a bit more like a failure instead of whatever this Captain Competence thing is you’ve got going on?”

That earns me another laugh. I smile as I watch him.

“I invite you to watch me try to tie a tie. I’ve been taught numerous times, and I’ve watched videos. I can’t do it. That should disillusion you about this supposed competence I’ve accidentally displayed.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not a flaw. It’s a cute quirk at best. I can’t do a handstand.”

“My sense of direction is terrible. I can get lost while using a GPS.”

“You’re definitely terrible at this game,” I say.

“Well, there you go,” he says.

“Still not really helpful. See, my only job is to be a guardian, and I’m failing on every front.”

I look down at where I’m clutching the railing and wish I hadn’t said that. I don’t honestly know where any of the things I’ve told Jordan even came from. This is not what I do. I don’t open up to people, even the ones I’ve known for a long time. My entire purpose in life is to not let myself rely on others.

Somehow the words just started coming and never stopped.

Jordan leans closer, pressing his shoulder against mine.

“Hey,” he says, “I’m not gonna pretend to know what the right thing to do here is, but give yourself some time. Three months is not a long time to get used to this kind of major change, for either you or Rory. Kids, they take time. Trust takes time. Effort, too. You’re here. When they called from school, Ibet you dropped everything and were there for Rory. I know I did, and you were there before me. It’s all those little things that matter in the end. It’ll just take some time for Rory to trust that somebody’s there for him if he hasn’t had it before.”

I drag my fingers through my hair and make a face. “See, I know what you’re saying makes sense, but I’m athispunishment practice with him nowhere to be found.” It registers a second too late what I’ve just said, and I wince. “Not that I’m saying being here right now is punishment for me. It’s honestly pretty damn nice being here.”

Jordan starts to laugh again and nudges me with his shoulder. “That cut deep. You’re probably gonna have to make it up to me by helping me lug all the equipment away from the field once the practice is done.”

I look at him and chuckle. “I can do that.”

“I knew this deal would end up being useful for me.” He tips his head toward the field. “Come on. They’ll be done in about ten minutes or so, and then it’s our time to shine.”

I walk down the set of stairs after Jordan, and we end up standing in a small crowd of parents that have gathered by the edge of the grass. Jordan says his hellos and introduces me to so many people that I’m not even going to pretend to remember their names or who their kids are.

People smile at him and stop to chat, and somehow it seems aside from giving sage life advice, Jordan’s also kept an eye on the practice, because he’s able to discuss the performance of each kid with the parent.

“You have a lot of coaches on that field,” I say when we’ve moved through the crowd of parents and are standing on the sidelines again.

He shakes his head. “Mick is also coaching the local high school boys, so he usually has a few of them hanging around here he’ll use for the drills.”

“What’s your job, then?”

“The rest of us just do the boring stuff nobody else wants to do.”

“Like cleaning up after?”

“You’re catching on fast.”

On the field, the team has gathered around the guy I’m guessing is Mick. He’s an older bald dude, I’d say in his sixties, probably, but he’s tall and looks like he lives in the gym. He’s dressed in a black tracksuit, a whistle hanging from his neck. The boys all listen to him avidly while he talks and nod along to whatever he’s saying. He sends them off a few minutes later. A few of the boys stay and keep talking. Theo is in that group, too.

“Umm.” I feel my neck heat, because in my self-pity session I all but forgot why we’re here in the first place. “How’s Theo’s face?” I ask. The bruise is still there, and it’s turned an unpleasant yellowish purple.

“Gonna have to walk around with a shiner for a bit longer,” Jordan says in a neutral tone that doesn’t reveal any feelings.

“Did you get anything out of him about what happened?” I ask.

He’s silent for a bit. “There was apparently some sketchbook of Rory’s that Theo touched without permission.” He glances at me. “Does that ring any bells?”