The Summer of Jordi Perez (And the Best Burger in Los Angeles)(17)

“You’re not an asshole,” I say. “Well, maybe you are. You’re really comfortable with other people’s phones.”

“That is the definition of an asshole, sure.”

I unlace my Converse and dig my bare feet into the sand. I’ll regret it later, considering I wasn’t told about the beach and therefore didn’t bring flip flops, but right now it’s all worth it to feel the warm sand between my toes.

“So what’s your next move?” Jax asks me.

“What do you mean? What was my first move? Oh, adding her on Instagram? Technically I didn’t do that; that was all you.”

“She’s gonna add you back, clearly,” he says. “Then find a recent photo, nothing too old or you look like a creep, and leave a nice comment. Then find another one, and don’t comment or anything, but bring up something similar next time you see her. Like if she takes photos at the park or whatever, mention that you like going to the park or whatever too.”

“This is your big advice on girls?” I ask. “No wonder you need my help.”

“Look, this shit normally works,” he says.

“But not with Gaby.”

“Nope. But normally, oh yeah. You’re right in. I swear on …” He looks around. “That seagull.”

The seagull immediately flies away.

I laugh again. “Nice try.”

The thought of Jordi liking any girls, much less me, still sounds like fiction. But it’s a good piece of fiction.



When we pile back into Trevor’s car later, I notice I have a new notification on my phone. I know that it means very little that Jordi added me back—not even “very little,” it means nothing at all.

But I still nudge Jax and hold up my phone. He grins and holds out his hand for a high-five.





CHAPTER 7


I have a notification when I open my computer that evening. Well, I have two—Maliah tagged me in a photo she took in Santa Monica, and my hair looks like fancy cotton candy and my dress is vibrant, so I don’t untag myself. But I digress, because the other notification is a direct message from Jordi.

A direct message from Jordi!

don’t bring your sad tostadas tomorrow, abby.

I start typing back immediately. I delete every sentence as it appears on the screen. I won’t ha ha ha! looks deranged. Are you serious??! sounds potentially combative. I don’t know what’s going on but it’s cool you’re thinking of me right now! is just clearly not okay on any level, as I sound both clueless and majorly creepster.

I message Jax instead. Does having a crush always make you feel bonkers? Is it just me? Do you regret talking to me so much? Were you prepared for so many questions? Did you hope it would just be burgers and Gaby?

He messages back right away. feeling bonkers can come w the territory. no regrets, but unprepared 4 sure. ur like a weird onion.

I laugh aloud. A weird onion???

His response is almost instantaneous, as though he was waiting for me to ask. lots of layers of weird. i dig it.

Okay, it’s vaguely possible—and so hypothetical that it doesn’t really matter—that if I liked boys, I might like Jax after all.



The next morning I magically arrive at Jordi’s exactly when she’s walking through her gate.

“Hi,” I say.

“Did you get my message?” she asks. “You didn’t respond.”

“Oh, I …” … was afraid I’d sound unhinged. “Sorry. I did get it, though. There were more leftover faux-stadas, but I left them for my parents.”

“Good girl,” she says and smiles.

I wait for details on the lunch we’re going out to together, or whatever I’m apparently eating instead of piles of sad vegetables and tempeh. We just walk quietly, though.

“Did you have fun at the library?” I ask when I can’t take the silence any longer. Probably it’s only been a few seconds but in certain situations a few seconds can be an eternity.

“That was Tuesday, but we did,” Jordi says, and I realize out of nowhere how desperately I hope that “we” just means her and her brother. Jordi could have a boyfriend. Even if Jordi—miraculously—likes girls, why wouldn’t Jordi already have a girlfriend? How could I be the only person who’s noticed her?

I wish it worked another way in my head. If only I found her silences maddening instead of intriguing. If only I thought it was boring or predictable or silly that she’s in all-black every day, even in the warm June sunshine. If only I didn’t think that whatever she did to end up in juvie wasn’t justified, no matter what it was.

If Jordi had wanted to burn down a building, I believe that structure should have rightfully gone down in flames.

Once we get to the shop, Jordi takes her lunchbag out of her black bag and nudges me. “Dad gave me extra caldo de pollo for you.”

I don’t know what that is, but Jordi’s dad gave her food for me. Jordi’s dad knows I exist. I already love caldo de pollo.

“You’re so lucky your dad cooks,” I say. “I mean, my mom makes …”

“I saw,” Jordi says as we pour our coffees.

“No … well, have you heard of Eat Healthy with Norah?”

“Nope.”