“Yes, I do,” I say, a little incredulous.
“No, before Hannah, the last time you had someoneotherthan Kristen over was for your birthday parties when you were younger.”
She stumps me, when I actually think about it. Instead of pointing out that she’s awfully close to calling me a friendless loser, I remind her, “The committee grew a lot this year and I’ve spent some time with the new members to get them acclimated.”
“And Hannah is a new member?” she asks, pulling her hair back into a bun while opening the freezer drawer with her foot.
“She’s the copresident,” I say, somewhat exasperated since we’ve been over this multiple times, including during the car ride home.
“Right, sorry,” she says, smiling but sighing. It’s one of her signature looks, putting on a happy mask to cover how tired she is.
“It’s fine,” I say, not wanting her to feel bad for spacing during our talk. I mean, if there’s ever a person with more important things on their mind than teenagers planning a high school–run festival, it’s a heart surgeon.
Though her sigh makes me sigh, and she catches it.
“Three cheese or pepperoni?” she asks, peering into the freezer.
“Pepperoni,” I say, but the bag of Pizza Rolls is already in her hand.
“Do you think Hannah might want three cheese?” she asks, rethinking before pouring the whole bag out onto the cookie sheet.
“I doubt it.”
My wrist vibrates and I look down to see aheretext from Hannah. I excuse myself before running to the garage, not realizing that I’m not wearing shoes until I feel the cold concrete through my socks.
When Hannah sees me, she cuts the engine and gets out of her car, the familiar smile back, replacing the sad, angry look from Saturday that has been searing the back of my mind.She’sback.
“So, you’re sure about this?” she asks as we walk through the garage. “Because I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this—”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I say, whispering even though the door is closed and there’s a wall between us and my mom. “And you’re right. While our relationship is a secret,youare not, nor do I want you to be. I love having you in my life.”
Her uncertainty and the hint of suspicion remaining from earlier melt away, and I feel myself relax too. I know us just doing homework together isn’t everything, but hopefully, for now, it’s enough.
Inside, I return to my seat at the island and Hannah pulls out the bar seat next to me as Mom is sliding the Pizza Rolls into the oven.
“Hey, Mrs. Jones,” Hannah says, smiling at me while my mom’s back is still turned.
“You can call me Mrs. Vey if you like, Mrs. Jones is Clark’s mother,” Mom says, pulling her pasta out of the microwave.
“Is that one of our flyers?” Hannah asks, noticing the call for chaperones that Mom hung on the fridge after Kristen was over and she admitted Jameson and I were a match made inherheaven.
“It is,” Mom says, grating a small mountain of Parmesan on top of her steaming pasta.
“Are you going to chaperone?” Hannah asks.
“Oh goodness no.” Mom laughs as she puts the cheese away and grabs a bottle of wine from the rack on the counter next to the fridge. It’s a twist off, so after a quiet click, she pulls off thecap and pours a glass, then gives it a swirl. Steady surgeon hands. “I’m sure Clarity would kill me—”
“I wouldnot.”
Mom looks over her shoulder and shrugs like she doesn’t believe me, which makes Hannah laugh.
“I’ll definitely be there,” she continues, and takes a sip. “This,” she says, tapping the glass with the tip of her nail, “is one of the things that makes getting older worth it. Of course, you won’t know that for yourselves until you’re of age.”
“Naturally,” Hannah says, flashing me a smile.
“Anyway, what was I saying? Right, yes, I’ll be at the festival. I wouldn’t miss it, especially now thattwosmart and incredibly qualified girls are planning it. I just don’t want to hover, since Clarity is bringing a date this year.”
“Mom,”I hiss, mortified for a multitude of reasons.