“What?” I swipe at my face. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel like a piece of river debris must be stuck there.
“California.” He says the word as if it’s both a question and an answer. His face contains a strange mix of emotions, but I can’t put a finger on what they mean.
“What about California?”
“Today, earlier… Colton mentioned something about you and California.”
I stiffen and close my eyes. Though Missy and Ji knew about Z3 days ago, I shouldn't have blabbed to Colton about my potential job offer last night, not until I talked to Jordan. I wanted to tell him first, but we were still at odds.
“We can talk about that later,” I say, hoping to recenter the conversation back on Jordan.
“Talk about what, Paige?”
“Nothing.” I brush the air with my hand.
“Paige?” His eyes narrow on me, and I can almost feel the weight of his stare. He’s not going to let this go.
I sigh. “I applied to Z3, and they responded. They want me to work with their team as a test run, and if all goes well, then I’ll get the job in California.” I rush out the words like they’re a hotpotato I can’t get rid of fast enough. I just want to get back to Jordan and what he was telling me earlier.
Jordan’s face is a myriad of emotions, but he quickly settles into a smile that feels at odds with his panic attack and partial confession. He hops onto his feet, putting distance between us. “That’s… That’s just great. What a great opportunity for you.” His smile widens, and he plants his hands on his hips. “So great, Paige. Really, really great.”
When I imagined telling Jordan about California, I expected him to be supportive like he always is when I talk about Z3, but what I didn’t expect was for Jordan to be all rah-rah-sis-boom-bah about it. Something about the way his eyes are shooting rainbows and marshmallows doesn't sit right, not when I can still see the sadness in his eyes from just moments earlier when he was talking about his mom.
I rise to my feet, coming face-to-face with him. “Jordan. What were you saying about your mom’s appointment?”
“It’s nothing. It’s in the past. But what’s not in the past is that you are going to get your dream job, Paige. You’re going to live in California. That’s huge.” Jordan continues deflecting, circling the conversation back to me. I can almost see him building a wall around himself, shutting me out once more.
I know the window for talking about his mom has closed.
The sound of tires traversing down a dirt road draws our attention, and a small white pickup truck pulls up with two massive rafts strapped in the truck bed. An older man with graying hair and a friendly smile waves at us then rolls down his window. “Hey, you two need a ride?”
No,I want to growl.I would rather Jordan and I finish our previous conversation.But what can I do? If Jordan doesn’t want to tell me more about his mom, I can’t force him. I can only hope that one day soon he’ll trust me with the truth.
“Yeah. That would be great,” Jordan says, clearly relieved at the sight of the truck. He and I both know that the sooner we get to a raft shack, the sooner Jordan can check on his mom using the landline there.
“I’m Jordan,” Jordan says as we approach the car with our rafting gear.
“I’m Paige.”
The man in the car nods in greeting. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Stan.”
When Jordan and I reach the truck, Jordan crams our helmets and life jackets in the back with the giant rafts, and then he opens the passenger door, giving me a perfect view of the single seat.
“It’s a squeeze, but the next shack is only five minutes away. Do you guys mind?” Stan asks.
Jordan looks at me, a question in his eyes.
Squeezing into a seat with Jordan? Yes, I do mind. But I think of Jordan’s panicked breathing on the river bank. The faster we get to a shack, the sooner Jordan can call his mom. “That’s fine with me.”
Jordan hops in the front seat and pats his lap. I can tell he thinks this will be the most comfortable seating position for me, and it probably is. But I’m not about to crawl into his lap like a baby sloth, oh no. Instead, I scooch my derriere next to him, forcing Jordan’s thigh to squish against the center console.
By the time I get all my limbs in the vehicle, Jordan and I are both tilted inward, our legs smooshed together like a panini. Jordan has to wrap his arm around me just so we can both fit, leaving my back resting against his solid chest. I’ve never been so fully engulfed by Jordan, and my racing heart is evidence of that.I should have been the sloth.
Jordan mumbles something, and when I turn my head to hear, I nearly end up brushing my nose with his. He jerks his headback and lets out a small laugh, looking guilty. Was he… sniffing me?
As covertly as possible, I do a pit check. I don’t think I smell that bad—mostly I smell like river water.
“It may be cramped, but if it’s any consolation, you guys can be DJ.” Stan hands Jordan his phone. Its zero reception bars mean the phone is pretty much good for only one thing. Music.
