Page 59 of The Friend Game

“Here let me help you,” Luke offers, then he gets down on his hands and knees and starts helping me put my random array of items back in my box.

Why, oh, why does the man always have to be so swoony? Seriously, who knew a man holding feathers and corks could be so hot? If Lexie weren’t standing over us, you can bet I’d be angling for some surreptitious hand brushing. You know the type—his hand meeting mine as we both reach for the same sponge, our eyes meeting as electric sparks pass between us.

Wow. Where’s my paper fan when I need it? A fork may be a good microphone, but its air circulation capabilities are subpar.

“I ran into Lexie in the hallway as I was coming and she asked where I was headed,” Luke explains as he places the last of the items in the box, then helps me to my feet. His hand is warm around mine, and I have to repress a happy sigh from the contact. As usual, Lexie is really cramping my style.

“Yes, and when I heard that you needed to discuss the art show with him, I decided to come too,” Lexie supplies. “To be quite frank, Miss Garza, I’ve heard some rather upsetting rumors that you might be submitting a rudimentary drawing piece done by one of our scholarship students rather than one of the many exemplary pieces done by my Mia.” She lets out a disbelieving laugh. “And while I’m certain the rumors are just idle gossip, I felt duty bound to come and chat with you before any mistakes were made.”

Here’s the thing. I knew that at some point I would be coming face to face with Lexie in regards to this very matter, but I thought I had a little bit more time. And I definitely didn’t think I was going to have to take her on right after having an upsetting visit from Marshall—the man who sucks away my self-confidence just by walking into a room.

This is the hand I’ve been dealt, though, so I set my shoulders and paste on my most professional smile, giving myself a short mental pep talk consisting of a Gloria Gaynor/Bible verse mashup—I will survive, because I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Hey, hey—before opening my mouth.

“I really can’t discuss the submissions with parents, Mrs. Stone,” I tell her firmly. She is not deterred.

“Oh, I think you can make an exception,” she replies shrewdly. Her red fingernails come to rest on her slim hips, drumming a beat of warning.

“No exceptions.” I mean for the words to ring with finality, but they come out more like a question, and Lexie smiles like she knows she’s going to break me.

“Let’s not be unreasonable, Miss Garza. You know I have a much more involved role in this school, in the art program as a whole, than most parents. I don’t need you to tell me every one of the submission pieces, I’m simply asking for some assurance that Mia will have a spot in the show.”

“Oh, well, that I can give you,” I say brightly. “One of Mia’s pieces will be in the show.”

Lexie studies me, unsatisfied. “One of her drawing pieces,” she clarifies.

I’m silent.

Lexie opens her mouth to speak, but Luke interjects. “Perhaps we should save this conversation for another time,” he suggests. “Miss Garza has students due to arrive soon, and she and I still haven’t discussed whatever it is that she called me here for.”

“Oh yes,” Lexie transfers her gaze to him, “the two of you did have something to discuss. Don’t let me get in the way.” Her words hold an underlying threat that makes my stomach twist with anxiety. Does she know about us? Not that there’s anything to know. Luke and I have been very careful to keep things platonic between us. We are just friends.

Friends who have a date planned for seven weeks from now and talk on the phone most nights, but friends nonetheless.

“Actually,” I say quickly, sneaking a glance at the clock on the wall, “time seems to be running out. We’ll have to have our conversation another time or perhaps in an email. You know what they say, if it can be said in an email, skip the face to face.” I chortle like I’m so funny and clever, when really I just saw that on a meme somewhere and fully disagree with the sentiment. In person is always better.

Well, except maybe when it comes to Lexie. I’d love to have all of my conversations with her via email.

No, I shake this thought away. I am going to face her head on. After all, if God could help David face Goliath, He can help me face Lexie Stone. Wait. Considering that before today the onlytangibleproblem I’ve had with her was with regards to my supposedly phallic pottery, I suppose it may be a bit harsh to compare her to an evil Philistine whose name has become synonymous with being too powerful for your own good.

Still…if the shoe fits.

No. No, no, no. I refuse to be this petty even in my own private thoughts.

“Well then,” Lexie looks between us, a catlike smile twisting across her lips, “I’ll look forward to picking this conversation up again soon, Miss Garza. I hope I’ve given you some things to think about.” She turns to Luke. “Pastor Abbott, a pleasure as always.” Then, with one last withering glance my way, she leaves us alone.

“I’m sorry about that,” Luke says as the door clicks shut behind her. “She practically accosted me in the hallway.”

“Oh hey, don’t worry about it.” I wave off his concern, even though I’m quite nervous about this future conversation Lexie and I are going to have. That’s not Luke’s problem. I can’t just always expect him to fight my battles for me. Especially when he still doesn’t know about all of the things I’ve been hiding. “I do need to talk to you, though,”I tell him, forcing myself to focus on that rather than all of my other problems.

“Yes, about the art show.”

“Well…not really,” I admit. “That was more of a cover. It’s about something else. Something important.”

“I see.” His gaze turns inquisitive, but the ringing of the bell to start the day prevents him from asking further questions. He knows we’re out of time to discuss ‘something important’.

“Can we talk tonight?” he asks.

“I’d actually prefer to have this conversation in person,” I say carefully. Concern flashes across his features. I wish I could say something to assuage his worry, but what I have to tell him is definitely something to worry about.

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