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The name Ciara keeps popping on the screen and Jordan tired and frustrated from the annoying sound decides to turn it off. The phone has been ringing for over two hours where she has been working and it's always the same name.
"Are you selling drugs now?" Her co-worker, Peter asks and Jordan isn't in the mood for explanations or for him.
The relationship they have used to be a friendly one until one night, things took another turn and sometimes they might sleep together but Jordan doesn't want anything serious and she believes Peter is getting a bit clingy with her so lately she just been pushing him away from the nicest way possible.
"No, a friend forgot it on my truck," She simply responds before putting the phone into the front pocket of her overall and continuing with her work.
"A friend?" He insists. "Since when you hang out with rich people, Jordan?"
"Since when do you have to know with who I hang out with?" She retorts annoyed and he puts his hands up in the sky defensively.
"Sorry, just asking,"
"Well, just don't," She replies.
"I just wouldn't want you to get your hopes up with rich people, Jordan," He tries to be more sensitive. "You perfectly know that you and I will never belong to their group, remember that," He states before leaving her alone.
"Fuck," She whispers knowing he is right.
While she keeps working on the Audi, the phone starts vibrating and an idea pops her head, maybe, Trent is calling from this Ciara's phone to tell her where to meet so she can return the phone.
Without hesitating, Jordan cleans her hands on the overall and picks up the phone call without even looking at the caller ID.
"Hello," She speaks hoping for the British boy she met earlier to pick up.
"Uhm, hello?" An accent she quites recognizes replies. "I'm sorry, this is Trent's phone right?"
"Yes," She quickly replies still amused by the accent.
Jordan's mother was Scottish and she passed away when she was younger, every time she hears the accent she can't help to think about her.
"And who am I talking then?" The man laughs and Jordan giggles.
"I'm sorry, I was quite shocked by your accent," She admits. "This is Jordan, not your teammate," She clarifies making the Scottish man chuckle. "And Trent forgot his phone on my truck, I thought this was him calling,"
"Oh," He gasps. "Wait, you are Jordan? The Jordan?" He wonders curiously and the girl frowns.
"Which Jordan? Not Michael Jordan," She assures making the boy laugh out loud.
"No, Trent's Jordan,"
"I'm no ones Jordan, Sir," She clairifies.
"Sorry, right," He apologizes and she could swear he is scarcting his head.
"How do you know about me?" She wonders.
"Wors run fast at the club," He jokes and somethings inside Jordan's head clicks.
This Ciara girl might be insisting because she is Trent's girlfriend and from what it seemed like this day, Jordan looked a lot like a side chick. Oh, no.
"Holy dick fuck," She spats scaring the boy in the other line. "I'm not a side chick!" She assures.
"What?" The Scottish replies.
"I know what you all are thinking about, I'm not stupid and I grew up with men," She rolls her eyes. "Gotta go, tell your boy that I'll see him tomorrow," And before he could even reply she cuts the call.
Jordan is going to their training ground tomorrow first thing in the morning, to return the phone and clean her name. She has never cared about anyone else's opinion on her but for some odd reason, she cares this time.
