Where Is Araminta Green? (ONC 2024)

Chapter 17: Plush Koala

Jordan was drifting off to dreamland—rendered drowsy by his evening dose of pain medication—while half-watching a streamer playing Zombie Road Rage without breaking a single traffic rule, when Darcy's voice broke through the fog. "Jordan!" she called from the other side of the door. "There is a cute boy here for you!"

Almost kicking poor Kiki, who was rolled up by his feet, off the bed, Jordan sat up, rattled and confused. "Wha-what do you mean?" he stuttered, using his fingers to untangle frizzy waves. Because if Darcy referred to who Jordan assumed, he didn't want to be caught with a messy bedhead.

"You know who I mean!" Darcy sighed overdramatically. "So should I tell him to come right up?"

"Uhhh..." Jordan's brain short-circuited momentarily, unsure of what to make of this sudden and nerve-wracking situation. Because if this encounter didn't go well, he may lose the only friend he'd ever had.

"That's not an answer," Darcy sassed. "And I think mom may have already asked him to come in anyway. But I guess he can just play video games with Chase downstairs if you don't want to see him."

"No!" Jordan blurted out. "I do want to see him, I mean. Just give me a moment and you can tell him to come up."

"Will do!" Darcy chirped. Soon tip-tapping from quick feet echoed as she ran down the stairs.

Jordan inhaled deeply, trying to follow the advice from the mindfulness app he'd downloaded during finals last semester. In through the nose, hold, and then exhale through his mouth. He followed the routine three times. Truthfully, Jordan wasn't sure if the exercises helped, as he'd been near breaking point before every test anyway, but he figured it couldn't hurt. And the infusion of oxygen did seem to reignite his sleepy brain.

Having centered himself, Jordan pulled his fingers through his hair again and smoothed out his t-shirt haphazardly. Ideally, he would have changed it before his visitor arrived but his broken arm made clothing changes difficult. He was even still wearing the same jeans he'd worn when breaking into Araminta's house, grass stains and all, because they were soft, comfortable, and easy to pull on. Combined with a wrinkly and washed-out Pokemon t-shirt, this wasn't Jordan's most stylish outfit but it would have to suffice.

Two knocks on the door made the fabric of time crumble, seemingly moving too fast and too slow simultaneously. Jordan wasn't ready but he also couldn't wait.

"Can I... come in?" a voice on the other side asked.

"Yes," Jordan answered, his heart beating like a drum. "Just come right in."

Jordan started one more breathing exercise but before he'd exhaled fully, Derek stood before him. Dressed in orange cargo pants, a tucked white t-shirt, and a black vest atop, he appeared to have walked straight from the set of a 90's sitcom. Which was a style Jordan hadn't anticipated being so into.

"Hey," Derek started hesitantly, pushing up his glasses from the bridge of his nose.

"Hey..." Jordan replied, forgetting both how to exhale and inhale.

"Mrooow," Kiki said, breaking the tension in the room by jumping down from the bed to inspect the newcomer.

"You must be the famous Kiki," Derek greeted the cat. "How are you doing, M'Lady?" He tipped an imaginary hat to the feline queen of the abode.

"Brrrrhhhh," Kiki replied, perhaps confused by the formal address. She took an elegant leap onto the desk chair, arranging herself in a loaf to observe the proceedings. If Derek was planning any shenanigans, Kiki was not going to let him get away with it.

"You're hurt." Derek looked toward Jordan's arm. "I kind of inferred that from the podcast, since you had your siblings help, but I didn't know how bad it was."