Page 50 of Ordinary Secrets

“Hell no. She’s an Ordinary and a gold digger. She demanded money from me until I asked her to take a DNA test. I even offered to pay for it. Haven’t heard from her since.”

That woman ran straight back to the guy she cheated on me with. I can only assume they’re still together. At the time, Iwas pissed, but I wasn’t too broken up about it. We’d only been sleeping together for a month.

“Rodrigo and I have been together for almost a year now,” Liz says. “We met on Glimmer, that dating app for Zordis. Maybe you should try that. With your face, I’m sure you’ll land a date in a snap. Even for our kind, you’re one of the better-looking ones.”

Zordis naturally have big eyes, clear skin, straight teeth, and healthy bodies. Because of that, we’re seen as more desirable by Ordinaries. By Zordi standards, I think I’m average, but Liz always tells me otherwise.

“Thanks for the advice, Mom. I’ll try that dating app sometime.”

She backhands my chest, scolding me. “Look, I understand that you have a wall up against our kind because with your gift, it makes it hard for you to know if you truly like someone or if you’re just mirroring their feelings. You stick to Ordis because it’s easier. Legally and biologically, it won’t work. There’s no real commitment and no harm when you fuck it up. Because when you do fuck it up, which you will because you’re a man, instead of taking responsibility for it, you can easily brush it off because, no matter what, that relationship wasn’t bound to work anyway. However, that doesn’t mean you should cut Zordi women off forever. Eventually, you’ll get tired of this and want to find your soul mate.”

What is this? Call-Trey-out-on-his-shit day?I’ve never thought about any of that as reasons why I steer clear of Zordi women, but when Liz puts it that way...

“Come on, Liz. You don’t really believe in that soul mate bullshit, do you?”

“Of course I do!” She gapes at me like I’m insane for not believing it.

Besides our differences in bodily functions, another thing that makes Zordis unique from Ordis is that we have strongconnections with our soul mates—or so people say. Apparently, there are ways to know when someone is your soul mate. Tons of books have been written about it. It’s even taught in Zordi school, but it’s all nonsense.

My belief is that when people claim to have found their soul mate, it’s just a ploy to either steal someone else’s girl or to justify adultery. Aunt Jodi used the soul mate excuse to rationalize leaving Victor out of the blue, turning him into the petulant asshole he is today. So yeah, soul mates are dumb.

“Please, Trey. Could you just leave Ari alone and give someone legal a chance?”

I toss my arms into the air, letting them fall back into my lap. “It’s not like I haven’t given Zordis a shot. All the ones I’ve been with have only wanted me for money.”

“Well, you’re not gonna find someone who wants you foryouwhile fishing in the ocean of Ordinaries.”

After work,I head straight to Arella’s apartment to pick her up for our date. We’re only halfway into it when I decide we need to get out of the public. Two ladies recognized me while we were go-karting. A group of guys bombarded me at the bowling alley. Another girl recognized me when I was about to beat Arella at air hockey. I lost concentration, then the game. I’m supposed to be spending time with her and building a connection—not making her wait around for me to finish taking pictures with strangers.

“Do you mind if we cook dinner instead of going out?” I ask as we head back to my car.

“I thought you said you wanted to get Mexican?” Arella says.

“I did . . . until we kept getting interrupted.”

“Do you normally get recognized everywhere you go?”

“Typically, but put me in a crowd with those over thirty-five, and I guarantee you I’m a nobody.” After we climb into my car and buckle ourselves in, I say, “How ’bout we make tacos at your place? That way I won’t have to drive you back.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Perfect!I’ll finally get to see the inside of her apartment.

At the grocery store, nobody recognizes me. We’re able to get in and out within five minutes.

As I pull up to Arella’s apartment complex, she gazes intently out the window.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” I ask, putting the car into park.

Her back snaps straight. “Nothing.”

Bull.She does this every time she comes home, and I don’t know why. I exit the car and skim my eyes across the parking lot. Nothing looks out of the norm, so I follow her inside.

Arella’s little apartment smells like a bakery—sugar, bread, and frosting. There’s stuff everywhere. Assorted trinkets litter the tops of her tables. Framed floral artwork covers the walls. All that can possibly be purple is purple. Violet curtains. Lavender pillows. Lilac throw blankets. Even her lampshades are purple.

She kicks her sandals off by the door, and I do the same with my shoes.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asks as she heads into her postage stamp of a kitchen.

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