Somebody Told Me You Were Trouble
The music at the party was too loud—like always—but that wasn’t why your head was pounding.
“No, because somebody literally told me you were flirting with them,” you said, arms crossed, raising your voice over the bass.
Jordan blinked at you. “I—what? Who told you that?”
“Yes,” Jordan said immediately. “It really matters, actually.”
You scoffed. “Right. Because you totally didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” they shot back. “I was talking. That’s it.”
“Yeah? Looked like more than talking.”
Jordan ran a hand through their hair, clearly trying not to lose patience. “You weren’t even there the whole time.”
“Oh, did you?” they said, stepping closer. “Or did you just decide what you thought you saw and ran with it?”
You glared. “Don’t twist this.”
“I’m not twisting anything,” Jordan said. “I’m trying to figure out why you’re mad at me for something I didn’t do.”
A group of people brushed past you, laughing, completely unaware of the tension snapping tight between you both.
“Maybe because it’s not just tonight,” you said.
Jordan froze slightly. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” you gestured vaguely, “you’re always like this. Charming. Talking to everyone. Making it seem like—like they matter.”
“And that’s a problem?” Jordan asked, eyebrows furrowing.
“When it’s not real, yeah.”
Jordan let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You think I fake it?”
“I think you’re good at making people feel special,” you said. “Even when they’re not.”
Jordan’s expression shifted—hurt flashing before they could hide it.
You hesitated, but your frustration pushed you forward. “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking.”
“Oh, everyone?” Jordan repeated. “Or just whoever fed you this story?”
“Why are you so defensive if it’s not true?”
“Because it’s not true,” they snapped. “And because you’re standing here acting like you know me better than I know myself.”
You shook your head. “Then explain it.”
“Why it always looks like you’re about to kiss someone every time I turn around.”
Jordan stared at you for a second, then let out a breath that was almost a laugh.
“You really think that?” they asked, softer now.
You swallowed. “It’s not just me.”
“Stop saying that,” Jordan said. “I don’t care what ‘somebody’ told you. I care what you think.”
“I just said what I think.”
“No,” Jordan said, shaking their head. “You said what you heard.”
You opened your mouth, then closed it again.
Jordan stepped closer, lowering their voice despite the noise around you.
“Do you actually believe I’d do that to you?”
The question hit harder than you expected.
“…I don’t know,” you admitted.
That landed like a punch.
Jordan looked away for a second, jaw tightening, then back at you.
“Okay. Then let me make it really simple,” they said. “I wasn’t flirting. I wasn’t leading anyone on. I wasn’t thinking about anyone else in this entire stupid party.”
“Then what were you doing?” you asked.
“It is,” they cut in. “I got stuck in a conversation I didn’t want to be in, and the whole time I was trying to figure out where you went.”
You frowned slightly. “Why?”
Jordan gave you a look like the answer should’ve been obvious.
“Are you serious right now?”
“I don’t care what people said,” Jordan said, a little sharper again. “You think I’d rather flirt with random people than be with you?”
Silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable.
“…So you weren’t flirting,” you said finally.
“No,” Jordan repeated. “Not even close.”
You looked down, suddenly feeling a little stupid. “Then why did it look like that?”
Jordan sighed, some of the tension easing.
“Because I was trying to be polite,” they said. “Which, apparently, is my villain origin story now.”
You huffed a small laugh despite yourself.
“Don’t,” they said, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at their mouth. “I’m still annoyed.”
“…You really thought I’d do that?” Jordan asked again, softer this time.
You hesitated. “I just… didn’t like the idea of it.”
“Okay, but that’s different,” they said. “Not liking something isn’t the same as it being real.”
“Do you?” Jordan tilted their head slightly. “Because you came in pretty strong for something that wasn’t even true.”
You winced. “Yeah. Okay. That’s fair.”
Jordan studied you for a moment, then crossed their arms.
“So,” they said, “what actually bothered you?”
“You’re not just mad about a rumor,” Jordan said. “You’re mad about what it means.”
You hesitated, then sighed.
“I don’t like the idea of you… wanting someone else,” you admitted.
Jordan’s expression softened almost instantly.
“That’s not a small thing,” you muttered.
“I didn’t say it was,” they said. “I just—” they shook their head slightly. “You could’ve just told me that.”
“Yeah, well, that would’ve required me being emotionally mature,” you said dryly.
Jordan snorted. “Right. My mistake.”
You glanced at them. “You’re not exactly perfect at that either.”
“Hey, I’m trying,” they protested. “I’m literally having a calm conversation right now. Do you know how rare that is for me?”
You both went quiet again, but this time it wasn’t as tense.
“…So you were looking for me?” you asked.
“Why didn’t you just text?”
You pulled your phone out, checking—three missed messages.
“Yeah. ‘Oh,’” Jordan echoed.
You slipped your phone back into your pocket, glancing up at them.
Jordan raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“What do you want, a speech?”
“I mean, a speech would be nice,” they said. “Maybe a dramatic apology. Tears, even.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re not getting tears.”
“But you’ll get this,” you said, stepping a little closer. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. And I shouldn’t have listened to random people instead of just asking you.”
Jordan watched you carefully.
“And,” you added, a little quieter, “I trust you. I just… forgot that for a second.”
The last bit of tension in Jordan’s shoulders finally eased.
“Okay,” they said. “That was decent. Not quite tear-worthy, but I’ll accept it.”
A small smile tugged at your lips.
Jordan pretended to think about it, then nodded.
Relief settled in your chest.
“…You still jealous, though?” Jordan asked, a hint of teasing creeping in.
“Okay, okay,” they laughed, holding their hands up. “I’ll stop.”
But they didn’t step away.
The music thumped around you, people moving, talking—but it all felt distant now.
“…Next time,” Jordan said, quieter, “just come to me first.”
You nodded. “Yeah. I will.”
“And maybe don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Depends who it’s about,” you said.
They smirked. “Wow. I see how it is.”
You bumped their shoulder lightly. “I said I was sorry.”
“You did,” they admitted. “And I accepted. I’m just gonna hold it over you for a little while.”
You both smiled, the earlier tension fading into something easier.
And as Jordan’s hand brushed yours—lingering this time—it felt a lot more real than anything “somebody” could’ve told you.
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