Chapter 30 – Jordan
THIRTY
JORDAN
Luka
The men’s team? Seriously?
I hope you didn’t use your last name to get a spot on the team. You really think they’re going to let you play? All you are to them is a publicity stunt, a way to cover their asses for cutting only women’s teams.
Are you sure this is what you want for your “career”? A season of riding the bench?
I’m only looking out for you, ice princess.
Even the toughest skins can still be penetrated.
Everyone thinks I’m this tough, independent, cold, mean girl, but I’m not.
At least I wasn’t always this way. Before Katie passed, I was just introverted.
Deep within me, the old Jordan is still there, but she’s buried underneath someone who gave and gave and gave till she learned that no one was giving back and questioned if she’s the problem.
The one who traded disappointment with independence and an I’ll take care of myself motto.
I stare at my reflection and catch glimpses of the sensitive, trusting, fun girl I was.
She’s unfreezing—I hate thinking that about myself, but I don’t know how else to put it. She’s thawing and it’s because of him.
Xanie comes up behind me, declining his latest call—on top of the texts, he’s called three times. All of which I’ve declined, contemplating on each ring if I should block his number but for whatever reason I decide not to. The screen returns to the Messages app, her eyes bounce through the texts.
She deletes the texts for me and turns off my phone. After my yellow polka-dot case disappears into the pocket of her scrubs, she wraps her arms around me.
“I don’t work tonight. Nico and I can drive to Wisconsin’s campus? Key his car? Egg his house? All I need is a twenty-minute nap and I’ll be good to go.”
“No.” We’re locked on each other through the mirror. “He’d get off knowing he got under my skin.”
“Loser.” My brows pinch. “Him, not you,” she clarifies. “I’m keeping your phone, though. None of that before picture day. You excited?”
“Thrilled.” I sigh, watching the curls I’ve spent far too long on already falling.
I’ve never put this much effort into my appearance for media day, even in high school.
I knew Mom would ogle the photos, buying whatever the largest package was.
Plaster my photo on the fridge and in Dad’s office, proudly wear a button version.
In college, picture day turned into an all-day affair.
Morphing from a quick click to a full-fledged marketing campaign. It’s daunting and exhausting.
Falling between the cracks was easy. I’d plaster on a smile when instructed, but there were more outgoing personalities to suffice marketing needs. Other players with brighter smiles, friendlier personalities, and funnier catchphrases to be the face of the team.
But today?
I don’t know. I think I wanted to be her again.
“This was waiting for you outside the door by the way.” Xanie sets an iced coffee on the counter. Jaxon’s chicken scratch scribbled onto the side.
Today requires a smile, LC.
Little is crossed out, probably to save room for the large font and the second line.
And I can’t wait to see how beautiful it is.
I roll my eyes as butterflies make a home in my stomach. I want to hate him, be annoyed, but I can’t.
“Wanna tell me who that’s from or do I need to guess.” Xanie takes the curling iron from my hand after I fail at getting another section to stay. We both know who it’s from.
“It’s nothing. You know he was helping me make the team, probably wanted to—”
“Okay, I’ll let that be what you believe.” She works quick, finishing up with hairspray. “Do you like him?”
Amber eyes press for an answer through the mirror.
I nod. “Don’t tell Cooper.”
“As if I’d be the one to unleash his wrath.” I laugh, punctuating it with a small smile thinking about Jaxon. “I want you to be happy, Jords. You know that?”
“I do.” I spin on my heels, swiping a makeup brush off the counter. “Tell me about your shift while you do my makeup?”