The Summer of Jordi Perez (And the Best Burger in Los Angeles)(15)

“Uh, sort of.”

“Ah, here we go!” Maggie pulls out a piece of notebook paper with scribbling on it. “You can use the computer out there. Take a look, get acquainted with the accounts, and then we can talk Friday about any of your initial ideas, okay? And if you want to take more time and wait until next week to chat, that’s okay, too. I don’t want to throw you in before you’re ready.”

“I’m sure I can be ready by Friday,” I say, not because I’m actually sure, but because Jordi rolled in today with her fancy, shiny, professional camera. I can manage some thoughts about Instagram.

I spend the rest of the day looking at Lemonberry’s social presence. Considering I’ve followed them everywhere that’s possible since the first time I shopped here, it’s weird there can be surprises. But somehow they have fewer followers than I do and hardly any interaction at all.

For the first time since I was a daydreaming mess at the noodle restaurant, I feel like I might be able to accomplish something here.

Maggie finds me a little notebook, and I spend the rest of the day jotting down ideas. Jordi’s still out front taking pictures, so I don’t see her again until the day’s over and we’re heading out together.

“Where do you live?” Jordi asks.

“On Brunswick,” I say.

“Just past me,” she says, like—and I could be making this up and not actually hearing it, to be very fair—like that realization pleases her.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I look down to see I’ve missed a lot of texts. The first is from Maliah (You’re free tomorrow … right???), and there’s one from Zoe (Let’s hang out SOON! ), and then the rest are all from Jax and all about going out tonight for more testing of the Best Blank app.

Jordi nods at my phone. “Everything okay there?”

My phone buzzes again right there and then. juicy burger on vermont. i can give u a ride. say yes!

“I guess I have to go eat a burger,” I say to Jordi.

“So, burgers really are a long story,” she says.

“It’s just this thing this guy Jax is doing,” I say. “I’m helping him out.”

“Jax?”

“Don’t get me started,” I say.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Jordi asks.

“Oh god, no,” I say. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I wouldn’t have a boyfriend.”

“Not one named Jax, at least.”

We’ve somehow already arrived in front of Jordi’s sleek gate.

“See you Friday, Abby,” she says. “Have fun with Jax and the burgers.”

“Have fun with … photography,” I say.

“Uh, sure.”

Have fun with photography?? Oh my god.





CHAPTER 6


Maliah promises to pick me up at noon for whatever we’re doing on Thursday. Even though, obviously, I’ve been obsessing over everything at Lemonberry, I’m still hoping we’ll go to the Glendale Galleria, which is right next to the outdoor shopping plaza, the Americana. While Maliah and I have very different styles, we’re good at shopping together, and between our different taste and different sizes, we never fight over anything.

Well, occasionally we fight over jewelry and shoes. That sounds like the most clichéd girl fight ever, but I can’t deny that it’s true. Even so, my shopping trips with Maliah—especially now with Rachel out of town—are some of my favorite times.

Even if they’re just best friend shopping montages in the love story that is Maliah’s life. I’ll take what I can get.

The text that shows up from Maliah at 11:30 is concerning, though.

We’re leaving now to get you! So we might be early! Be ready!

“We”? Okay, I’m sure there’s a possibility that she separately contacted Zoe and Brooke. But lately “we” only means one additional person.

Trevor’s car pulls up, and I take a moment before I leave the house to let my face look as disappointed as I feel. Jax had asked me to hang out and eat burgers today, but I’d turned him down for one-on-one time with Maliah.

Once I can manage a smile—or at least a neutral expression—I head outside. I start to get into the backseat behind Maliah, but the seat is already taken.

“Hey!” Jax greets me as I get in from the other side. “We’re hanging out after all. Your dress is cool.”

One year ago, Rachel and I took a class at Sew L.A. so we could learn how to make clothes from all of the crazy fabrics you can get at crafts stores. Rachel picked one with mermaids and I chose one with parrots. It turned out we were both terrible at sewing, so our instructor helped us correct our mistakes and strongly advised we take a class on the basics next time instead of heading straight into dress-making territory. That sounded boring, but at least we each got a dress out of it.

“Only Abbs could make parrots look cool,” Maliah says.

“You got something against parrots?” Trevor asks her.

“Well, people act like they can really talk,” she says. “They just mimic. It’s not that impressive.”

Trevor cracks up. “You think parrots are overrated?”

I still don’t feel like I know Trevor, really, so it makes me feel good that he’s laughing. He must feel something real for Maliah if he’s amused by her parrot opinions.