Page 91 of Bump and Run

“We had plans but she got sick and canceled. I wanted to see if she was okay.”

“Did you bring soup?” she asks, leaning forward with wide eyes. “Please tell me you brought her soup.”

“I didn’t bring her soup.” I pause. “I brought her coffee.”

“Junior...” Maggie smiles. “You like her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Junior...”She gives her voice a hard edge. “I know like her when I see it and youlike her.” I sit back and sigh with annoyance. “It’s okay to like her. Why are you so embarrassed?”

“I’m not embarrassed. And no, it’s not okay to like her. Not this one.”

She chews on that for a moment. “Have you been having fun with anyone else since you first had fun with her?”

“No,” I admit.

“Has she?”

“I hope not. I mean...” I give a passive shrug, reacting to Maggie’s twisted smirk. “I don’t know, not that I care...”

“Hate to break it to you, little brother, but you are one very specific conversation away from being in an exclusive relationship with this girl.”

“She wouldn’t go for it.”

“Why not?”

“Because... we’re not allowed to see each other.”

“Not allowed?” she mocks. “What is she, a Capulet?”

“No. She’s a Pierce.”

“A Pier — Pierce?!” Her eyes blink a dozen times. “As in the new football coach, Pierce?”

I gesture for her to lower her voice. “As in his daughter, Eliza, yes. He doesn’t want anyone on the team involved with her but we kind of... rebelled.”

“Wait — she’s really pretty.”

I note her confused eyes. “This shocks you?”

“No, I’m just surprised you have actual taste.”

“Mag, I’ve been telling you about banging hot girls since I was in high school.”

“There is a huge difference between the hot girl and the pretty girl, little brother. The hot girl you brag about to your friends. The pretty girl you take home to meet Mom.”

I shake my head. “No one’s going home to meet Mom. Wait, how do you know she’s pretty?”

“Nate and I always go to theatre department showcases every few weeks,” she explains. “I noticed her name popping up in the programs this year and she is very hard not to notice up there. She’s really talented.”

“I know.”

“You’ve seen her perform?”

I hesitate, imagining the exact expression my response will bring. “I help her run lines.”

Maggie’s jaw drops in slow motion, the edges of her lips curling into a maniacal grin. “You help her memorize her lines?!”

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