Page 15 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
That’sa real question, but it’s one without a current answer. This is why I shouldn’t have conversations I haven’t prepared for. Especially why I shouldn’t have conversations with boys who have become men in the blink of an eye and are way too attractive to want to spend a weekend with me.
And yet my mouth keeps talking without permission. “I’ve seen you.”
“When?”
“At, like, dances and stuff.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Are you telling me that you were watching me instead of focusing on your fancy football star boyfriend? Actually, that doesn’t surprise me. Butler was such a squeaky grocery cart.”
I fold my arms. “Why’d you have to bring Garrett into this?”
Jordan mimics me, only he smirks instead of scowling as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Still defending the wet sock, huh?”
“I’m not defending—”
“You are! Heaven knows why.”
I groan. It was bad enough dealing with this antagonism toward my boyfriend senior year while I was still in high school, and I don’t need it now. Not while my head is still throbbing. “You’re seriously going to tell me you’restilljealous of him?”
“Never was, never will be,” he argues calmly. “He played an inferior sport and was the greasiest tool I’ve ever met. His popularity was overrated.”
“He was Student Body President for a reason. You just hated that the football team got more attention.”
“Of course I did. They got all the budget, and we had to keep our equipment in that broken down shed.”
“That wasn’t Garrett’s fault.” I groan again, realizing too late that now Iamdefending him, and Jordan is not about to let that go.
Sure enough, he leans one arm on the back of the couch and fixes me with a judgmental look that even I couldn’t misinterpret. “How about when he cheated on you? Was that not his fault either?”
I still remember vividly the night I found out, when I saw the flirty texts from one of the girls on the student council asking when he was going to ditch me to go spend the night with her.When, notif. He’d responded too, telling her that he would get away as soon as he could. Instead of confronting Garrett, I pretended to be sick so he would leave (which he did happily), and then I found Houston and started sobbing. Unfortunately for me, Jordan was over that night, though that did come in handy when he and I had to physically restrain my brother from hunting Garrett down in his initial rage.
I found out the next morning that Garrett mysteriously had all of his tires removed and placed in his trunk that night, while his jack seemed to go missing, leaving him stranded at the girl’s house and getting her in major trouble when her parents got home. I gained a lot of respect for Houston and Jordan after that. No violence, no damage of property. Just a whole lot of inconvenience and righteous justice.
I sigh, curling my uninjured leg up to my chest. “I never said thank you for what you guys did,” I mutter. Partly because I wished I had had the guts to do it myself.
Jordan smirks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Kinda made me wonder if I should have gotten a job on a pit crew at some point, though. So.” He hops to his feet and heads for the broom closet near the door, like he’s on a mission. “Hopefully this Mark guy is less of a bad hair day than Garrett the Skunk.”
“You have strange insults,” I say, frowning at him as he pulls out my broom and dustpan. “What are you doing?”
As he begins sweeping the linoleum, he lifts an eyebrow without looking up at me. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“It looks like you’re sweeping my floor.”
“Ding ding ding!”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Whyare you sweeping my floor, Jordan?”
“Because it’s dirty. And I need something to do.”
And the something he picked issweeping? Sweeping is the worst chore in the world! Which, now that I think about it, is probably the reason he’s doing it. I can’t actually remember the last time I swept.
I groan. “Jordan. I’m not going to let you—”
“I’d like to see you stop me, Miss Cripple. Besides, we’re not done talking about your little crush.”
“I don’twantto talk about him. You’ll just find all the things wrong with him like you did with all the other guys.” No matter who I went out with in high school, Jordan always had a snarky comment pointing out the guy’s flaws. He was always right, but that’s beside the point.
Jordan shrugs as he moves closer with his broom, like he’s taunting me. “Does he have red flags I should know about?”
