Page 31 of Never Ever Getting Back Together
So, I stick to the bland and safe. “Are you having fun?” I ask, and Jordy tips his head back to let out a sudden, stark laugh. Like I said the wittiest thing he’s ever heard.
“I’m at a mansion, at a party that’s all about me, with some of the greatest chicks I know,” he says. “I’ve been worse.”
“Mm, they’re such great girls,” I lie through my teeth. “It must be wild to see everyone again after this long.”
“Yeah well.” He tips his head to the side. “You especially. You’ve grown up.”
I’ve gained an inch, so glad you’ve noticed,my brain wants to say. Wait, no, no banter, nope. “Thank you,” I say instead. “It’s been a while, I guess.”
“It has. Too long. I’ve been wanting to reach out before this, you know. I just didn’t know what to say.”
A good icebreaker would’ve been to apologize for cheating on me.But no, that won’t do, either. God, how am I supposed to have a conversation with him without lowering my defenses or attacking him? “Well, we’re here now,” I say instead. Oh my god, this is the most boring conversation I’ve ever had in my life.
“We are,” he agrees. He gives me a funny look, but I can only give him a weak shrug in return. This is awkward, but I don’t know how to make itnotawkward.
I search desperately for a topic that feels safe. “How is everyone? How’sSam?”
“Oh.” Something in his demeanor changes, but I can’t pinpoint what it means. “They’re good. Sam’s good. Obviously, ha. She’s never been better.”
“I bet. How is it being a step away from royalty?”
“It’s good. I’m a lucky guy.” He shifts, and I become aware of the cameras on us again. “But, you know what? I talk about myself in interviews all the time. I’m sick of talking about myself. Tell me about you. How are your parents? How’re Rosie and Olivia?”
Sick of talking about yourself, huh? Youhavechanged.
Nope. Not gonna say that. “They’re good. Rosie’s got a boyfriend now. I sort of introduced them, so there’s that. And Olivia’s going to college with me this year.”
There he goes again. Raising those eyebrows. “College, huh? Community?”
“The University of Connecticut,” I say delicately. “The plan is to study medicine.”
No abbreviations here. Nope, I’m a college student now, and I use whole words, and I can spell every version of “they’re.”
His eyebrows shoot into the atmosphere. “Medschool, huh?”
Oh, it’s all right whenhedoes it.
“Yes. I actually aced my SATs, you know.”
His laugh is more startled than I appreciate. “Well. Youhavechanged a lot.”
I am going to tear every strand of hair from his skull.
“Well,” I say, pretending I’m not vividly imagining an act of violence against him, “I guess you made a good impression on me.”
“Makes sense to me.”
“It’s too bad. Imagine if we never broke up. I might be curing cancer by now.”
He lets out a delighted laugh, and I lean into it. “It’s too bad we did,” I whisper.
Jordy’s smile freezes. Maybe he has stage fright? Can’t think of anything else to say?
“It feels like no time has passed,” I say encouragingly. “Do you get that? Or is that just me? I guess your life’s been busier than mine over the last two years, so…”
I’d thought I was doing such a good job. Flirting, making him sound like the perfect guy for the cameras, refraining from ripping his throat out with my very fingers, et cetera. But he’s gone cold. It’s not something I can see on his face, but it’s like the air changes. I recognize the feeling acutely. It feels like at the end of our relationship, when nothing I ever said seemed to be what he wanted to hear.
When he’d started seeing Skye.
