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“Thanks, Mads.” I toss her a look and Jordan flashes me an uncomfortable smile.
“Anyway,” Henry jumps in. “She’s not staying long either way.” He looks from me to Jordan, and I can’t tell whether he’s tossing me a line or trying to make a point. Hard to tell with him sometimes, so I drink my wine.
It’s fine, by the way. I’m fucking fine.
I knew she was coming back, and Henry’s right. It’s just for a bit and then she’ll be gone again. Then everything will go back to normal.
Or at least go back to this — whatever ‘this’ is, I guess.
Parks is gone. That’s normal now.
Jordan’s pretty quiet for the rest of the dinner after that and we don’t stay for long, a bit because my sisters keep hounding Henry for every shred of information he has about Magnolia and Rush, and he won’t tell them so they’re getting more and more annoying, and I don’t want to hear it anyway so we thank Mum for dinner and leave pretty quick.
We walk a few houses down before Jordan stops on the street and looks up at me, squinting. “Why aren’t you taking me?”
I give her a look. “It’s my ex-girlfriend’s dad’s wedding. I can’t bring my new girlfriend.”
She shakes her head, annoyed. “Then why are you invited at all?”
“Because,” I shrug, “it’s London high society and shit. I wouldn’t be completely surprised if her mum was invited.”
She gives me a look, but I think she sees my point. Hopefully, anyway.
Her face softens a bit. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s not a big deal.” I shrug dismissively.
That’s a lie. Can feel it in my chest as I say it.
Jordan rolls her eyes. “Sounds like she’s always a big deal.”
“Yeah?” I slip my arms around her waist. “And how would you know?”
She gives me a look. “Everyone at my work asks about her all the time, like I’d actually know about her dating whoever that guy is in those stupid movies…” She rolls her eyes.
By those ‘stupid movies’ she means the highest grossing film franchise in the world, but yeah, ‘stupid movies’ works for me.
It annoys her, all this. A bit because she doesn’t get it and that’s hard, and a bit because at least once a week we’ll be out and about and some little sixteen-year-old will come up to me, ask Jordan to take a photo of me with them and then usually they’ll ask me if Magnolia and Rush are really together. The press releases say they’re just friends, and Henry says that’s true. I think he’s telling the truth. Don’t know why he’d lie about that.
I asked him once if they’re sleeping together and he said nah, but I don’t know — that photo at Cannes with Rush’s hand on her waist, there was something about it. So maybe he’s covering for her in a way I don’t think he would for me.
Jordan sighs quietly but I hear it.
“Look, Jords—” I shake my head to placate her. “She probably won’t even talk to me. Avoid me like the plague.”
She looks hopeful. “Really?”
I nod.
“She hates me,” I tell her. I even manage to deliver the line without the Super MarioBros. death sound effect playing out across the universe.
This relieves her, I can see it on her face.
“And Hen’s right — she’ll be in and out. You won’t even know she’s here.”
This is also an obvious lie but it works for me because Jordan’s never known a London where Parks and I exist in it at the same time.
She doesn’t know. Doesn’t get it. Doesn’t know about the eyes and the photos. Doesn’t know what we’re like if we’re in the same room. How we’re magnets, how we look at each other, how we find each other.
