Page 93 of The Incredible Ordinary

Although, what happens when it does? I doubt I will magically revert back to my normal self, no matter how much I wish I could just forget the almost-kiss.

I just… I want to be myself again. I want blissful ignorance. The naive comfort of not knowing.

“Holy shit!” Milán says. He’s suddenly alert, leaning forward. “Holy shit!”

On the field, Theo’s dribbling the ball down the sideline, cleats kicking up bits of turf. Two defenders are closing in fast, their shadows stretching long across the grass.

I blink, unseeing gaze on the scene in front of me, my brain fully occupied because Milán is clutching my thigh.

Rory darts upfield like a spark.

Theo fakes left, nudges the ball forward, and sends a clean pass slicing through the gap. Rory catches it in stride with barely a touch, his speed carrying him past the last defender.

Milán’s fingers tighten, fingertips leaving burning hot marks. The muscles of my thigh tense painfully.

My heart slams against the inside of my chest.

There’s a faint ringing in my ears.

The goalie rushes out, but he’s too late. Rory angles his foot and sends the ball neatly into the corner of the net.

He comes to a sudden halt and looks genuinely baffled by the goal.

Theo whoops and rushes over with the rest of the team, and they all pile on top of Rory, and Rory’s laugh is so loud it rings all across the field.

Milán is up out of his seat, cheering like his team has just won the World Cup and not scored a goal in a practice game.

I can still feel his palm on my thigh.

My thoughts are a blurry mess.

Milán whirls around to look at me. He’s beaming.

“Did you see that?” The words rush out of him. “Holy fucking shit!”

I force a nod. A grin.

His palm still burns on my thigh. It might be a permanent mark.

“He was on the side, and then he started running. And the way they just seemed to read each other’s minds? It’s like Theo knew exactly where Rory would end up. That was some next-level telepathy shit.”

He falls back into his seat, still grinning like a lunatic, and my pulse kicks violently, but this is something wholly different and so much worse, because this is me being hooked, enchanted, enamored by the way he loves his little brother.

I should think it’s cute. I should figure it’s charming.

I shouldn’t have this feeling of my heart beating out of my chest. I shouldn’t be burying my nose in his scarf to better inhale his scent.

It almost feels like I’m going to be sick from the way my stomach swirls, but it’s also not a bad feeling.

I don’t like it on principle, though. The principle being that I want to be my usual, boring self. I don’t need to go through an existential crisis. Nobody asked for this!

Setting everything in order after practice is me simply going through the motions. My head isn’t in the game. Instead, it’s dealing with the grim, reluctant truth that this confused feeling isn’t going anywhere on its own, and the smart thing to do here is not to continue sticking my head in the sand, but to do what I usually do and just confront my problems. It’s what I try to teach Theo, and I do my best to lead by example.

Milán and I walk home afterward with Theo and Rory running ahead of us, so by the time we make it to the front steps of my house, they’re already barreling out again with Dog.

“A quick one tonight,” Milán tells Rory. “You still have homework.”

“That crap is easy. I’ll do it in five minutes.” He jumps from one foot to the other, eyes moving between where Theo and Dog are standing and the direction of the park.