Page 22 of The Friend Game

I type the words in the search box and hit enter. It’s my lunch hour, and while I know I should be heading to the staff lounge and attempting to meet some of my fellow teachers, the lure of the Blick gift card from the Stones drew me to my computer.

Can anybody really blame me? Shopping for art supplies is one of my favorite pastimes. And this is shopping for art supplies on someone else’s dime!

I’d only been planning on having a quick glance around the website, but then I typed in my gift card numbers into the website and found out it has $500 on it! Five hundred!

And that’s how I ended up searching the Blick website for pottery wheels. I know, I know. I’m supposed to be shopping for supplies for the kids. I was just curious! Five hundred dollars would cover a good chunk of a new pottery wheel.

Not that I’m in the market. I don’t throw pottery anymore. Not since The Disaster.

Again, I was just curious. I’m about to close out of the window and head to the staff lounge, when there’s a knock on my door. A second later Luke sticks his head in.

“Delivery for Miss Garza,” he says when he catches sight of me.

“Delivery?” I wave him in eagerly. He steps the rest of the way into the classroom, revealing the contents of his delivery. Flowers! He brought me flowers?

“These are for you.” He presents the colorful bouquet to me, then flushes. “Sorry, that was misleading. These are for you, but they’re from your dad. They got delivered while I was in the front office, so I offered to bring them down to you.” He’s still holding the flowers out to me, so I hurry out of the fantasyland I was visiting where he was the one who brought me flowers to celebratemy first day and back to reality where it was actually my trusty dusty dad, and reach out to accept them.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad, but I think it goes without saying that most women would prefer to get flowers from a guy rather than their dad.

But don’t tell my dad I said that.

“I’m surprised he didn’t get you a book or a gift card,” he adds with a wink, and I blush as I remember my anti-commercial romance rant last night.

“Iammore of a gift card girl,” I admit, “but even I have to appreciate the gesture behind this one. My mom is a retired teacher, but back when she was still teaching my dad used to have flowers delivered to her on the first day of every school year. So I guess this is him continuing that tradition.”

“That’s a nice tradition.” Luke smiles. “Your mom must’ve been excited when you decided to go into teaching.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. She was.” A spurt of guilt runs through me. I just straight up lied to him. Sure, I’ve been lying the past few days through my actions, but just now I lied with my words. I can no longer tell myself I’m just omitting details he hasn’t asked about. Nope. I’m a liar.

“How’s your first day going?” Luke asks.

“Good so far.” I hold up my shiny black gift card. “Someone actually did get me a gift card as a welcome present.”

“Nice.” Luke peers at it. “What’s Blick? I’ve never heard of it.”

“You’ve never heard of Blick Art Material?” I’m aghast.

Luke laughs. “Remember, I’m a stick figure guy. The last time I bought art supplies…actually,” he reconsiders, “I’ve never bought art supplies, because the last time I needed art supplies I was still in elementary school so my parents bought it, not me.”

“Pastor Abbott!” I chide. “That is very disheartening to hear. Next you’ll tell me you only use number two pencils.”

Luke cocks his head. “There are other types of pencils?”

I gasp, hand to chest. “You’re joking? Tell me you’re joking?”

Luke lifts his hands in mock surrender. “I’m clearly an uneducated man.”

I shake my head. “And I clearly have to fix that. Here, come sit.” I rise and point to my chair. “I’m going to grab my drawing kit. I keep one in my purse.” I hurry over to the tiny closet where I stashed my belongings when I arrived this morning, and rummage around in my purse for the kit.

When I turn back around I see Luke peering at my computer screen with an amused expression. My pottery wheel search! I practically sprint back to the desk, slamming the laptop lid down with a little laugh. “Don’t let my internet searches bore you. It’s time for your pencil lesson.”

Luke lifts one eyebrow up in amusement. “Are you in the market for a pottery wheel, Hannah?”

“Nooo,” I stretch out the word. “This gift card,” I pick up the Blick card off the desk, “was presented to me with the intent that I’d be using it to purchase art supplies for the Grace Canyon students. Before you came in, I was simply exploring what exactly Blick has to offer for educators.”

“And that led you to your pottery wheel search?”

“Precisely.” I can’t meet his eyes. “Well, maybe not precisely,” I admit. “But in a long, windy, indirect way, yes.”

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