Milán
Jordan is waiting for us at the entrance to the stadium. He’s leaning against the wall, watching with a small smile as we approach.
“Hey,” he says when Rory and I come to a stop before him. “I got you something,” he tells Rory, then hands him a shoe box.
True to form, Rory looks confused as ever.
His suspicious glare moves between Jordan and the box.
“Thanks?” He takes the box and holds it in front of him, arms extended, a wary look on his face. “Nice box.”
Jordan’s lips twitch. “They’re cleats. Theo has too many pairs. I figured you could put them to good use. Otherwise they’ll just end up sitting in the closet. I took a guess on the size, so if they don’t fit, just let me know. There’s more where those came from.”
Rory stares at him for a moment before he shakes his head. “Yeah. I’m gonna go change.” He starts to move, then stops and awkwardly lifts the box in Jordan’s direction. “Thanks.”
Jordan waves him off. “You’re doing me a favor if you take them. They’ll feel weird on solid ground, but just wait until you get on the field.”
Rory sends him one more dubious look, stuffs the box underneath his armpit, and heads to the locker room.
Jordan looks after him thoughtfully. “That went better than I expected.”
“That’s something I should’ve thought about, right?” I say. “Proper footwear.”
“How were you supposed to know?”
“Believe it or not, I have seen a soccer match a time or two in my life.” I laugh, but it transforms into a frown when I look toward the hallway that leads to the locker rooms. “It didn’t even enter my mind to think about buying cleats.”
“Good thing it didn’t, too,” Jordan says.
“I wasn’t lying. We have too many pairs at home already.
Theo has his own preferences about his cleats, and Kira seems to think he goes through them like socks, then she forgets which ones he prefers and just goes with whatever they tell her is best in the store.
Rory’s doing me a favor if he takes them off my hands. ”
“In that case, you’re welcome.”
He laughs, and we head to the field. Jordan brings out the cooler and the snacks and we set them out under Chloe’s watchful gaze before we migrate to what’s become our usual spot on the bleachers.
Jordan zips his jacket higher. It’s windy today, so even though the sun is out, it feels colder than it really is. Jordan leans back in his seat and lifts his face toward the sun, closing his eyes.
Something’s different about him today, though. The lightness he usually shares with everybody in his orbit is dimmer today.
He looks tired.
I nudge his side. “You okay?”
He opens one eye and peers at me. “Yeah. Just didn’t sleep well.”
“Everything okay?” I ask with a frown.
He’s quiet for a bit. It almost feels like he’s carefully picking his words. I’m not sure why he would, though.
“Kira stuff,” he eventually says. “It’s boring. Nothing important.”
“You sure? I’m not a great listener, but I’ll make an effort for you.”
He grins. “You’re not that bad.”
“Well, then lay it on me. Let’s see how I do with advice.”
He turns his head away and looks straight ahead, somewhere into the distance.
“Have you ever had a moment when…” He hesitates for a bit.
“A moment when you think you’re in the right.
When you think you did the right thing. And you’ve thought you did the right thing for a while, so you’re putting everything you have in you into proving that you’re right.
But then it’s just one blow after another until you’re not sure anymore.
Until you start to doubt yourself. And then you think, well, maybe that other person is right.
Maybe you could’ve done things differently.
Solved the situation differently. Maybe you should’ve just accepted that…
things change and might not go your way. ”
It takes me a while to process all that.
“I’m not gonna lie,” I eventually say. “That’s too cryptic to say anything of substance.”
He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head. “I annoyed myself while I was speaking.” He blows out a breath. “Just ignore me. I’m tired and it makes me overdramatic. It’s been a long day.”
I study him for a bit. “You sure?”
He nods, still with that frown on his face.
I don’t believe him.
“You know, I’m here if you’re ready to talk,” I say.
He blows out a breath and his shoulders relax. He sends me a look that’s pure gratitude.
“Thanks,” he says.
I squeeze his arm.
Coach blows his whistle, and the boys run to their water bottles. Rory’s still hovering on the edges of the group. But Theo’s also there. Hovering on the edges of Rory. And I’m here. Hovering on the edge of my seat.
“Do you ever wish you could just snap your fingers and fix everything? Make everything easy for him?” I gesture to the field. To Rory. To Theo.
“All the time. But that’s not how life works.
He will stumble and fall and then get up and try again, and you’ll be the home base where he can recover from the bruises life gives him before he gets back out there.
It’s how these things go.” He claps me on the shoulder, then keeps his hand there and squeezes. “You’ll be great.”
That’s the thing, though. I won’t be. I’m not going to be somebody else’s safe harbor. I can’t. I don’t know how. And Rory deserves somebody who won’t bail on him.
I won’t say any of that, though.
Not right now.
Not when Jordan is looking at me with that spark in his eyes. With all this unwarranted belief in me. Goddamnit. This is why I don’t make promises.
We sit and watch as the practice winds down, then we go help Chloe distribute snacks and clean up, then we’re standing outside the stadium gates, waiting for Rory and Theo.
“Hey,” Jordan says, “before I forget. Theo’s birthday party. He’s going to play laser tag with friends. Rory’s invited. We’ll have a smaller celebration the weekend after for family. Just dinner with everybody. I was wondering if you’d come too?”
I blink just from sheer surprise, speechless at the thought of being included in something like this.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
He narrows his eyes like he’s trying to figure out whether I’m being serious.
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” he says with a perplexed laugh.
“Okay, then.” I nod. “Yeah. We’ll come. Of course.”
His smile widens, and he leans against the wall just as the kids start spilling out of the locker room.
“Are we still on for puppy shopping?” I ask Jordan.
He nods. “If you have the time. I’ll take all the help I can get.”
“I’ll fit you into my schedule.”
He smiles. There are people all around us, filling the small hallway, but this smile isn’t for them. It’s just for me.
It’s not a task he couldn’t handle himself, but he wants me there. Me.
Rory comes out of the locker room and heads straight toward us. He doesn’t glower or glare. He has his bag over his shoulder, the zipper undone, his hoodie thrown over his arm, and with the other, he’s juggling with the box with the cleats in it.
I wordlessly hold out my hand, and he gives me the box and the hoodie.
No hesitation.
I’m necessary.
I’m needed.
I make things easier.
A bit less chaotic.
Before now it’s always been the opposite. My whole life.
The fact that it feels so good is downright terrifying.