“What’s up with the whole field hockey team sitting in on your meeting? And that girl standing up front like she’s head of the committee?”
“Well, they aren’t ‘sitting in.’ They’re part of the committee,” I admit, noticing Hannah step out of Mrs. Rubio’s classroom.
I pull Kristen farther down the hallway and duck into our corridor, out of view. When I look at her again, I see hereyebrows glued in place at the absolute top of her forehead.
“Hannah Fitzpatrick is my copresident. She was able to get the team to help out, and—because of that—we don’t have to shut down the club,” I explain.
“Hannah Fitzpatrick,” she grumbles, shaking her head.
“Yeah…”
“Troll,” Kristen huffs.
“What?”
“She gets a few stick-slinging ball jugglers to join your club and thinks she deserves to be a leader, up there with you?”
Not what I was expecting, but definitely something I can work with.
“Mrs. Rubio appointed her my copresident because she thinks it’ll help everyone mesh a little easier,” I say, feeling good that I can stand up for Hannah without it being a Camp Refuge relationship thing.
“Well, it still sucks. You worked your ass off for that position, and she just strolls in at the last second and takes half.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her.
And it’s true, because she’s more focused on Hannah as the bad guy than Hannah as my… girl. But I don’t necessarily want her todislikeHannah…
“Actually,” I say as an idea materializes in my head, “I was thinking about inviting Hannah to the football game on Friday.” Kristen opens her mouth to speak, undoubtedly to object, so I quickly add, “It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other. You know, we have the fall festivalandthe spring festival, whichmeans we’re going to be working together all year. This way, she and I can hang out and you can see for yourself that she’s not trying to hog the presidency.”
Honestly, this plan is perfect. We get to hang out, Kristen will hopefully start to view Hannah as a friend,andI won’t have to be third wheel for the game. Plus, this will give Hannah and me a chance to prove we can be friends outside the committee. I smile at the thought of this ideal situation.
Kristen looks at me, peeks around the corner down the hall, and then back at me again.
“Does she have to come to the gamethisFriday? We could go to any other game together.”
“You’re bringing Vincent,” I remind her. “Now I won’t be a third wheel.”
“You could invite Jameson and make it a double date,” she offers.
If inviting Hannah wasn’t a huge relief, I might be worried about Kristen’s anti-Hannah desperation. “I told you already that I’m not trying to date right now.”
“Fine,” she relents, shaking her head. “But if I catch any vibes from her that she’s secretly plotting to take over your throne, I will stage an assassination of the tyrant.”
“I wouldn’t want any other plebeian to lead the rebellion,” I say, laughing a little. “But seriously, go home, or go make googly eyes at your boyfriend.”
Chapter Thirteen
After field hockey practice on Wednesday, we visit the three locations the committee voted on from our narrowed-down list of potential venues. Baker’s Park was our first choice, but it proved to be a bust. The field was smaller than Google’s satellite image led us to believe, and the man-made pond was full of stinky, stagnant water.
Highland Park is second on our list, and thankfully, there’s no pond. Across from the parking lot is a wide-open field, and behind that is Highland Woods.
“Wait, who recommended this place again?” Hannah asks, turning off the car but making no move to get out.
I check the notes I brought with me.
“Brianna?”
Hannah gets a rueful smile on her face and shakes her head. “Of course.”