When Jordan takes me to one of his favourite coffee shops later in the week, he's mildly disappointed that I'm not in love with their coffee. To be fair, being raised by a family that makes a killer French roast is hard to beat. I've become as picky about my caffeine as my mom and grandmother are.
"So, do you ever go back to visit?" Jordan asks upon the mention of my family back in Quebec. "I mean, it must be hard since you're at school most of the year."
"Yeah, it is, but we make it work," I say, swirling the coffee in my mug. "We usually visit during the summer and around Christmas. If we're really lucky, we make it out for a birthday or two."
Jordan nods and takes a sip of his own coffee. "Are you going to see them before school?"
I shake my head. Because of camp and some other things, my parents decided that it would be easier to skip our usual trip this summer and extend our winter stay instead. I'm a bit disappointed that I have to wait another four months to visit home and some family, but it'll be worth it. "Too many complications this summer," I explain. "We're gonna stay longer during winter break instead."
"Do you still have friends there?"
"Not really. I moved years ago and I guess my friends and I weren't properly equipped to stay in touch, so we just. . . grew apart." Sometimes I wish I had kept in touch with my old friends so that I could visit them now. Maybe I would have been able to tell them about Jordan since they're half a country away and not down the street. I've probably seen them during visits, too, but because it's been so long, I doubt I'd recognize them.
Jordan frowns. "Sorry, that must suck."
I shrug. "I guess. But I have other friends now and I don't plan on moving away from them." I ditch the mug of coffee and go for my scone instead. "How about you? Do I get to meet your infamous friends?"
"God, I hope not."
"Come on, they can't be that bad."
Jordan taps his fingers against his mug and sighs. "No, but they barely have a filter. Not exactly the greatest at reading the room."
"I'm sure I can handle them," I reassure and he smiles timidly back at me.
We chat for a while, taking our time drinking our coffee and eating our snacks. Well, I take my time with the coffee. It's not necessarily bad, but drinking it too quickly will probably upset my stomach. Jordan, on the other hand, downs it in minutes and makes quick work of his muffin.
I try to take my time to make it look like we aren't loitering in the coffee shop. We've been here for over an hour at least and while we are paying customers, I feel bad taking up space other people can use.
Around the two hour mark, both our mugs are empty and our plates cleared. We clean up the table and make our way out of the shop. There's a growing smile on my face from the casualness of it all. It feels so easy to go out with Jordan, like it's something I've done a million times before. I try to work up the courage to grab his hand because it just feels right.
A boisterous voice disrupts my thoughts before I can contemplate further.
"Jordan!"
We turn at the sound of Jordan's name. Two guys walk towards us, one with long, shaggy brown hair and the other with clipped blond hair. Though they probably aren't going anywhere special, they're cleanly dressed in dark jeans and button down shirts. If it weren't for the obvious facial differences, I'd say they look like twins.
"Hey, guys." Jordan looks torn between excitement and worry. "What are you doing out here? I thought you guys were helping out at the library today."
"We finished early," the blond says. "Thought we'd get something to eat. Didn't think we'd see you around here." His eyes trail up and down Jordan, as if inspecting him. I'm guessing it's been a while, but we've been home for a while now. Has Jordan not seen his friends?
Blond dude shifts his gaze to me and I try my best not to squirm. I barely know much about Jordan's friends—other than Stephen—and I don't know who these two are.
Jordan must notice my discomfort and his friends' confusion. He looks between us and jolts back to reality. "Oh, right, sorry. Carter, this is Stephen and Kade," he says, pointing out each one. "Guys, this is Carter. We worked together at camp."
Stephen's and Kade's eyes widen in understanding and nod. I try not to frown at how Jordan introduced me.
"Right," Stephen says, snapping his fingers as if all the puzzle pieces have been put together. "That's why I didn't recognize you."
I force a smile. "Yeah, Jordan's told me all about you guys." Not a hundred percent true, but true enough. It'll also hopefully direct the attention back to Jordan.
"All bad things I hope." Kade winks and looks back to Jordan.
"I'd be lying if they weren't," says Jordan.
"So, where have you been?" Stephen runs a hand through his hair, revealing more of his face. "It's like you've been MIA all summer."
Jordan shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Just busy. Camp was crazy and I needed to settle back in a bit."
Kade crosses his arms and raises a brow. "Alright, so you're back and settled in. Can we finally get some more details? What were the girls like at camp?"
I tense, not liking where the conversation is headed. I want to leave, but I don't want to look suspicious or give Jordan's friends the wrong impression. The last thing I need is for my boyfriend's friends to think I'm weird and write me off before they really get to know me.
Jordan hesitates but replies, "They were cool. Wish I had pictures, but I don't." Kade looks at him expectantly and Jordan rushes to add, "Not yet, of course."
Kade whistles and badgers him with more questions about Tammy and Astrid. Not once does he ask something that isn't related to them. It's uncomfortable listening to them talk about two people who have become close friends of mine over the summer. My discomfort must not be all that well hidden; Stephen glances over at me a few times, probably trying to get a read on me. I avoid his gaze and stare at the ground instead.
"Man, I need to go back to camp," Kade jokes, nudging Stephen.
Jordan rolls his eyes. "Creep."
Kade shoots him a pointed look. "What? Like you're any better? I bet by the end of the summer you'll be with one of those girls."
I swallow the words crawling up my throat and pull out my phone for a brief second. There's a text from Patrick asking if I still want to come over later. I'm not sure if I will, depending on if Jordan and I hang out much longer, so I don't respond.
"Hey." Jordan nudges me with an elbow. "Wanna head out?"
I look up to see all three of them staring at me. I definitely want to leave, the feeling of discomfort growing the longer we stay. Kade looks like he's trying to telepathically tell me to say no, but I'd rather not be pressured into hanging around any longer than I have to.
"Sure," I say, ignoring the way Kade frowns in disapproval for a moment.
"It was nice meeting you, Carter," Stephen says, giving me a friendly smile.
"You too."
We say goodbye and head in the opposite direction. I pick up the pace, wanting to get as far away as possible. I wasn't in a good headspace back there; I need to clear my head.
Jordan grabs my arm, pulling me to slow down. He frowns like he knows something's wrong. "I'm sorry, I had no idea they'd show up. I told you my friends can be a bit much."
"You mean Kade can be a bit too much," I say a bit too harshly.
"Yeah. . ." he shakes his head. "Look, I know you're uncomfortable with what he said, but that's just how he is. He's blunt and forward and. . . well, bad at reading the room."
I nod, feeling myself tense up again. "Yeah, I was uncomfortable with what he said." I meet Jordan's eyes. "But it's also what you said and what you didn't say."
"What?"
"I'm just the guy you worked with?" I say incredulously. "I know we aren't exactly telling people the truth right now, but you could've at least said I was your friend."
"But you are a guy I worked with," Jordan says. "It's not a lie."
"It just felt like you didn't want your friends to get the idea that we're close."
Jordan takes a step back, waving his hands. "Carter, you're taking this the wrong way. We worked together. I was telling the truth."
The rational part of me says there's no reason to be upset. We both haven't told any friends about our situation and it wasn't a surprise that he would introduce me as something other than his boyfriend, but it still hurt.
My mind spins, feeding me more excuses and things to say.
"What about Tammy and Astrid? You said you never saw them in any other way, but you should've heard yourself when you talked about them," I argue. "And in front of me, too."
"What did you want me to say?" Jordan says, tone clipped. "That I was actually into you and not them? Would you have preferred that I come out and tell them the truth out of nowhere?"
"No. But you could've made it clear you weren't interested in the girls."
"You don't know Kade. That wouldn't have been enough for him."
"What about me?" I say, voice shaking. I try to control my voice, not wanting to cause a scene. "Am I enough for you?"
Jordan's eyes widen and he scoffs. "Are you kidding me right now? Where is this coming from? I thought we were past all of this."
I look away, training my eyes on a patch of grass breaking through the cracks in the stones. "Well, I guess we aren't."
For a moment we're both silent. Neither of us has the words to say. This shouldn't be such a big deal, but it is. Throughout our relationship, Jordan has done his best to assure me that I have no reason to doubt him, to doubt us. But when it came down to it, he let me fall right back into that trap. And this time, I might be too far down for him to rescue me.
"I'm leaving on Sunday to visit my grandparents in Vancouver," I say, breaking the silence. My voice is quiet and I'm not sure he can even hear me. "I guess I'll see you when I get back."
"How long?"
"A week."
"Okay."
I don't wait for him to say anything else. I mutter a goodbye and head off to the nearest bus stop. It takes a few minutes for one to come, but the second it does, I leap on and take a seat. As the bus moves along the street, I pull out my phone and reply to Patrick's message from earlier.
His house isn't too far. I'm only on the bus for five minutes and it takes another three to walk through the neighbourhood to his house. I knock on the door and Patrick opens it.
"Hey," he says, cheerfully. Then, noticing my glum expression, asks, "Are you okay?"
"Fine," I mutter, making my way into the house. I kick off my shoes as he closes the door. In my most convincing voice I say, "Can we just play some video games? We haven't played—just us—in a while."
Patrick looks at me for a few seconds, clearly not believing my facade. Thankfully, he lets it go and nods. "Yeah, sure."
We go up to his room and take our usual seats on his bed, backs up against the wall. He sets everything up and we're playing in no time. It feels good to be in Patrick's room again, thumbs flying across the blue controller like I never left.
Of all my friends, Patrick is the only one who will let me ignore my problems for a bit. He doesn't force me to talk unless I drag it out for too long. Today, I'm grateful for it. I wouldn't even know where to start with the whole Jordan mess.
And after today, maybe I'll never have to.