Upside Down(23)

Two minutes later, Jordan had a booking screen up on one of the computers and was scrolling through dates and times. “How often do you meet?” He looked up then, and I hadn’t realised we were standing so close together. His eyes really were the prettiest greyish-blue.

“Oh, uh, the last Friday of the month. Six thirty till required. We never go past eight.”

He looked at my lips and blushed again, then turned back to the computer. “Easy. One room free, if you want it. You might need to send everyone a text alert about the venue change.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“I’ll just need to enter a contact phone number in,” he said. “That way if anything changes, we can let you know.”

I rattled off my mobile number. “And um, if you wanted to add that number into your mobile, you know, if anything changes, you can let me know.”

I wasn’t talking about hiring the room.

He looked right at me, into me. His eyes were intent, searching, questioning, a little wary, but maybe there was a spark of something else there too. Something that looked like hope. He let out a sharp breath and took out his phone. “I guess. You know, in case something changes.” He thumbed the number into his contacts; then he put his hand to his forehead, to his cheek, through his hair, to his heart. “Um…”

“Wanna get out of here?” I asked.

“Yes,” he squeaked.

He turned around toward the front door, but Mrs Alvarez spotted him. “Oh, thank you again, Jordan.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Tell Mr Alvarez the book he ordered will be here next week. And say hello to Catalina for me, won’t you?”

She beamed at him, and he made it to the door and someone else called out goodbye to him, and he waved and tripped and almost fell through the glass door. “Motherfucker,” he cried.

A young woman close by laughed and said, “Bye Jordan.”

He righted himself and patted down his shirt and fixed his hair. “Oh hi, Olivia. How are the exams going?” he asked.

“Good thanks, almost done.”

“That’s good, good. No need to tell Mrs Mullhearn I dropped another mofo-bomb.” He made a face, shaking his head.

She laughed again. “Hell no. I got you. Don’t you worry.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “I was just… we’re just…” He looked at me, found me grinning at him, so he grabbed my hand and dragged me out the door and up the street where he stopped, dropped my hand, and sighed. “Just one day. One day would be great where I don’t make an arse of myself.”

“I think you’re kind of great.”

He stared, blinked, then blushed a dozen shades of pink and red. “Oh look,” he said, as if suddenly realising where we were. “You need to try these,” he said, walking into the Thai restaurant we were outside of. “Hey, Sunan!”

“Hey, Jordan,” the guy behind the counter said. “The usual?”

He held up two fingers. “Two today, please.”

Sunan’s face lit up. “Oh, two,” he said, looking between us suggestively. “Special treat for special friend?”

Jordan didn’t miss a beat. “Without the side serving of innuendo and embarrassment, that’d be great.”

Sunan laughed and disappeared out the swinging door to what I assumed was a kitchen. “Come here often?” I asked.

“Shut up. When you taste these, you’ll understand.” Then he let his head fall back and he sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t actually mean to tell you to shut up.”

I laughed, making him look at me. “It’s fine, Jordan. I like seeing this side of you. Everyone knows you by name, and it’s pretty evident you have a lot of friends here.”

“I’m considering changing my name and joining the bird watching fraternity where I can get a grant and permit to go live in the wilderness and pretend to look for some kind of bird that I totally made up, but really it’s just so I can’t die of embarrassment in front of every single person I meet. And you might call them my friends, but I’m sure they’ve just been planted to make me look like an idiot. Like The Truman Show. Is that what you’re doing? How much are they paying you? I hope it’s a lot.”

“No payment,” I said with a laugh. “If they asked, I’d totally do it for free. And about the breed of bird you made up, do they look like puffins? Because they’re the cutest bird I’ve ever seen. You know, if one was curious.”

“If one was curious, they’d be pleased to know the Australian Pygmy Puffin is far cuter than the Atlantic Puffin. Like all Australian animals, they look adorable but are either venomous, poisonous, or just total jerks.”

“The Pygmy Puffin?” I asked, smiling.

“Yes. Small fluff balls, incredibly rare. There are three rules when handling them: One, no bright light. Two, don’t get them wet. And three, never feed them after midnight, no matter how much they beg.”

I laughed. “Must be related to the Gremlin.”

He nodded and tried not to smile. “The genus name is the Mogwai.”

“You’re an expert on birds and eighties movies. I’m impressed.”

“You got the reference. I am also impressed.”