Page 87 of The Incredible Ordinary

Milán raises his brows at me.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod like a marionette doll, my head bobbing up and down with exaggerated movements.

“Fine.” Only then do I look around. “Where’s Kira?”

Milán sends me a funny look. “She went to the bathroom a second ago.” He laughs. “Where’s your head at?”

I force myself to exhale before I reach for my water and drain the glass.

When I put the glass down and look up, I find Milán eyeing me curiously.

“I’ve had too little sleep,” I say.

“And here I thought that was your superpower.”

“It’s malfunctioning?”

Kira slides back into her seat. “Dessert? I’ve been craving a good slice of cheesecake. It’s the one thing I just can’t seem to find properly done anywhere in San Francisco. Almost makes it seem like it’d be worth it to move back just for that.”

My laugh is strained, even if I try to hide it. The meaningful look Kira sends me isn’t even the least bit subtle.

I spend the rest of the dinner wondering how terrible of a person it makes me that I just wish Kira would go back to San Francisco.

That I wish she hadn’t come to this dinner at all.

The walkback home is short and filled with random small talk about the food and weather.

We stop in front of the house, and I look up at my bedroom window. I suddenly feel very tired. There are too many thoughts in my head and too much confusion. I just want to go to bed, wake up in the morning, drive Kira to the airport, and go back to normal.

“Do you live nearby, Milán?” Kira asks.

“Close enough.” He shrugs.

“It was nice of you to walk us home.” She smiles at him, and Milán sends her one of his easy grins.

I think I’m supposed to say something here. Acknowledge that… I’m here? I honestly don’t know anymore.

“I don’t know about you two, but I’m beat,” Kira says once the silence starts to stretch between the three of us.

“It’s getting late.” Milán gives her a relaxed smile, completely lacking the somewhat self-conscious edge he’s been carrying around ever since I met him. It’s like a glimpse of the other Milán. The one who’s in his element and confident in himself. Ridiculously, this version of Milán makes me cautious. What I perceive as him being inhiselement also makes me feel out ofmyelement.

“Jordan?” Kira says. “We better head inside, so Milán can go home.”

“Right,” I say. “Yeah. Of course.”

I look at Milán, who’s still smiling, but when he looks back at me, I don’t get the feeling of him being somebody different. Instead, it almost feels like the two of us are sharing a secret, butI don’t know what the secret is. I can’t read his mind, but I don’t feel like I’m imagining it either.

“Good night,” Kira says.

“Night,” Milán says with an almost lazy cadence to his voice.

She starts to walk, and I turn to look at Milán. I shrug, even if I’m not quite sure why.

“Thanks for coming,” I say. “I had fun.”

That’s a lie. I have no idea how to describe what this night was, but fun wouldn’t be my first choice. I’m leaning more toward confusing and weird.