Page 56 of The Incredible Ordinary

He smells like oranges and cinnamon.

He smiles when he hears Rory and Theo laugh in the other room and seesmesmile about it.

And I tell myself I notice because I’m observant.

Not because I’m dying to know.

MILÁN

Rory comeshome on Monday evening with a streak of mud on his cheek, sopping wet from the rain, so I send him straight to the shower. He wanders into the kitchen twenty minutes later, his hair flying around his head in a mess of damp waves and curls.

I glance up from the laptop where I’m trying to chew my way through Gerard’s life. What’s left of it. Files. Documents.

“Hey, kid,” I say tiredly and rub my fingers over my eyes.

He looks like a startled rabbit, staying completely still like he’s convinced that way nobody can see him.

“What?” I look around, trying to figure out what the hell gave him that wide-eyed look. That flicker of unguarded stillness.

He glances away, then back. “I’m hungry.”

I nod and push my chair back. “Okay. Want a sandwich?”

“I can do it myself,” he mumbles, already heading to the fridge.

I’m up already, though, so now we’re awkwardly hovering at the counter with the fridge between us.

He fixes me with an unblinking stare, and I feel the urge to apologize, even though I’m not sure what exactly I’ve done that needs me to remedy it. There’s probably a huge array of stuff,even if I’m having difficulty right now pinpointing the exact wrongdoing.

Rory sighs, rolls his eyes, and looks away.

“You can sit. I was just… It was small talk, okay?”

I stare at him dumbly. “Oh.”

He huffs out a breath, and a flush creeps up his neck.

“Never mind.” He turns on his heel, ready to flee.

“We can make Sloppy Joes,” I offer.

He turns back slowly. I have never ever wanted anybody to get a hankering for Sloppy Joes more than I do at this moment.

He stays put. Slinks to the chair at the table.

I start taking out what I need, quickly chop an onion and a bell pepper while the ground beef is cooking, then mix it all together and after a little while add the rest of the ingredients. It’s one of the few foolproof things I know how to cook relatively well. Once I’m done, I slide the plate in front of Rory and settle in opposite with my own.

“How was your practice with Theo?”

“Fine.”

“And school?”

He shrugs, eyes on his plate. “The usual.”

“Anything interesting going on?”

He’s silent for a long time, methodically chewing and swallowing.