Ultraviolet

Chapter 8

May 18, 33 AE

Their first date, if you could even call it that, was underwhelmingly anticlimactic, and Mack knew he was to blame.

After he and Jordan agreed to be "undercover partners", as Mack liked to say, their first order of business was first date ideas. Immediately, Mack launched into a plethora of options; in retrospect, he was probably trying to take his mind off the terrible day he had, and he most definitely didn't think things through by insisting that their first date had to be the next day.

So of course Mack woke up the next morning with his head feeling like an ipu at the Merrie Monarch Festival. Not that he'd ever seen the hula competition before, but he could attest that his head felt like a gourd that's been hitting the ground for a week straight.

He didn't feel any better when he finally managed to stand, and his headache worsened as his body swayed unsteadily. His legs shook from his own body weight, and each step he took to the kitchen put him at risk of toppling over entirely. And even though he made it to the kitchen unscathed, he barely mustered up enough strength to open the fridge door, and he definitely couldn't open the sports drink that he pulled from the door.

His day was going to be fantastic. Jordan was going to stop by at noon so they could drive to the beach and go sailing, stop by Catalina Island and do some other nature things (low crowds permitting, of course), have an early dinner at a fancy private dining restaurant, take a boat back to the mainland while watching the sun set, then stop by a speakeasy arcade bar to end the night.

But just thinking about the day ahead made Mack exhausted. Perhaps he had been a little enthusiastic when he made their itinerary.

The sound of his doorbell even caused him to wince, and he had to drag himself out of the kitchen to answer it. Thankfully, he had enough sense to check the peephole before opening the door because it was Jordan waiting for him patiently outside. His unexpected presence was enough to startle some self-discipline into Mack, and Mack forced himself to feign nonchalance before he opened the door.

"Hey!" Mack greeted, and it took almost all of his willpower to keep from wincing at the volume of his own voice. "You're here!"

Jordan's initially cute smile quickly transformed into one of hesitant confusion. "Uh... hi?"

"Come in, come in!"

After Jordan tentatively obeyed Mack's ushering, Mack had to pause for a moment to force his mind to focus on his new "undercover partner".

As always, Jordan was as fashionable as ever. He wore a short-sleeved button down aloha shirt with a pattern of white palm trees against a gray to black gradient background. His shirt was loosely tucked into a pair of torn blue denim shorts with the hems cuffed to end just above his knees. In his hands, he fiddled with a pair of black and gold clubmaster sunglasses, and Mack found himself entranced by the way Jordan's fingers moved the temples opened and closed.

So when Jordan's hand paused and hid the sunglasses behind his back, Mack was reasonably irritated.

"Hey," Mack grumbled, and lifted his gaze to meet Jordan's.

But for some unfathomable reason, Jordan seemed confused by Mack's protest.

"What?" Jordan asked, as if he was genuinely clueless. "I'm just asking."

Yikes. Mack must've missed something in his delirium, but he wasn't about to admit that.

"Why are you so early anyway?" Mack smoothly switched topics. "Not that I'm complaining--you look unbelievably attractive, by the way--but I thought we said noon?"