Page 70 of The Incredible Ordinary

“I have my moments, however few and far between they may be.”

I smile. He smiles.

It’s late.

But we keep talking.

MILÁN

I wake up with a start.It takes me a second to figure out that I’ve dozed off on the couch. It takes me another second to realize Jordan is curled up next to me, his head on my shoulder, breathing softly. It’s still dark outside, and a quick look at my watch tells me we’ve been asleep for half an hour at most.

I rub my face, but freeze when I hear something—a shuffling noise coming from the hallway. I’m alert at once, and while I try to listen, Jordan stirs.

“Wha—” he starts to say, but I quickly cover his mouth with my palm.

He blinks at me as he fully wakes up. I remove my hand and lift my finger to my lips. The shuffling has stopped, but it starts again after about thirty seconds or so.

I slowly push myself off the couch and make my way toward the doorway, careful not to make any noise. Jordan trails after me.

I peek out from behind the corner before I roll my eyes and slam my hand on the light switch.

Rory freezes by the front door, one foot still up where he’s trying to pull on his sneaker, squinting against the sudden light.

“Going somewhere?” I ask.

“What—you were asleep!” Rory blurts.

“Yes, the fact that I’m up too late is absolutely the part we should all be outraged about,” I say dryly.

Rory swallows audibly, refusing to meet my gaze.

“You know, if you were wondering when the best time to come clean about what’s going on was, this is it.”

I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down.

“I would like to go back to my room,” he says.

I point my finger at him. “I will be a fuc—fudging prison guard.”

He rolls his eyes. “You do get that I’ve heard people say ‘fuck’ before, right?”

“Not on my watch!” I sound about as scandalized as a puritan seeing a woman’s ankle.

Jordan snorts and quickly covers it with a cough behind me. I glance at him over my shoulder. He makes an apologetic face before he looks pointedly at Rory, then back at me.

Okay.

Yeah.

I’ve got this.

I’ve absolutely got this.

“What’s going on?” I ask Rory.

He fidgets, plucking the cuffs of his sleeves, eyes everywhere but on me.

“Sleepwalking?” he finally says.