Page 69 of The Friend Game

It’ll be great.

I slide into the row behind Morgan, pasting a smile on my face so no one around me can tell I’ve gone completely crazy. My body is buzzing with jealous energy. It’s bad news, but I can’t seem to make myself calm down.

“Miss Garza?” A voice says from next to me, and—having been completely lost in my jealous thoughts—I jump in my seat. “I’m sorry,” the voice—which I now see belongs to ConnorWilhelm, the middle school science teacher Belinda sent my way my first week at Grace Canyon—says. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh, no. You’re fine,” I hurry to assure him, trying to wrap my mind around this new development where I have to act like a normal person while simultaneously harboring acute, somewhat unfounded, jealousy toward the woman sitting directly in front of me. “I just didn’t see you when I sat down. I was lost in my thoughts. How are you?”

“I’m good, and you?”

“Oh, you know, I’m fine,” I repeat my favorite mantra.

He studies me, his gaze entirely too perceptive behind his glasses. “I heard about your situation with the school board,” he says. “That must be tough.”

Some of my ire at having to make conversation in my addled state dissipates at his words.

“It is tough,” I say emphatically, giving him a genuine smile. “Thank you for saying that, Connor. You know, you can call me Hannah,” I add. “We’re friends, after all, not just colleagues.” Goodness, it’s entirely too easy for people to earn their way into my good graces. One compliment or show of empathy and suddenly they’re my new best friend.

“Oh, okay then,” he says with a pleased smile. “Hannah, then.”

There’s a sudden screeching noise from the stage as the microphone blares with feedback and we both look toward the stage. I’m surprised to see Luke standing there, and even more surprised to see him staring straight at me, though he looks away quickly going back to fiddling with the microphone.

“Sorry, everyone,” he says into it, his face adorably red. “Just doing a soundcheck. As you were.” He turns and heads quickly back off the stage.

“Did you see that?” I hear picnic-basket woman squeal to the woman she’s sitting next to. “He was so busy looking at me, he fumbled the microphone!”

“Oh, Morgan, you’re so lucky,” the other woman sighs. I knew picnic basket lady was Morgan!He wasn’t looking at you, I want to lean forward and tell her,he was looking at me!But then I remember we’re not in middle school. Or teenagers at a boy band concert.

“Hannah, did you hear me?” Connor, apparently oblivious to the drama unfolding all around him, asks.

“Hmmm,” I say, turning to look at him, but keeping one ear on Morgan’s conversation. “What did you say?”

“I just asked if you had any plans after church?” he repeats, looking both nervous and hopeful at the same time. “Because if not, I thought maybe you’d like to grab lunch with me.” Well aren’t I in a pickle now. How awkward is it going to be to say no and then have to spend the next hour and change sitting next to him? But obviously I can't say yes either. If only I had specific plans. Oh wait, that’s right, Idohave plans. I’m having a chocolate chip cookie standing picnic with Luke.

One he doesn’t even know about yet.

“Oh, thank you, Connor,” I begin, “but–” My words are cut off by the sound of another male voice saying my name.

“Miss Garza, could I have a word please?” I whip around to see none other than Luke standing at the end of the pew, talking around the three people separating us.

“Lu–I mean, Pastor Abbott,” I exclaim. “Um, sure.”

“Great.” He looks at the gentleman sitting at the end of the row. “She’s the art teacher at the school,” he informs him. “Helping us out with a special project today.”

I am? For a second I panic, then realize he’s just making an excuse for why he came from backstage out to the pews to specifically pull me away. A delicious thrill swirls through me. Clutching my chocolate chip cookies, I stand up.

“Excuse me,” I tell Connor, who nods looking a bit dejected. I consider leaning forward and asking Morgan if she’s met Connor, but Luke is staring at me with a wild expression on his face that I’ve never seen before, so instead I sneak past the remaining three people in the row and join him there.

“Hello,” I say stupidly, but he doesn’t answer, just turns and beckons for me to follow him. He’s walking at quite a brisk pace, so it’s a bit of a struggle to keep up with him in the heels I wore this morning in a fit of ‘I need to look extra gorgeous today so Luke is forced to agree with me about telling the elders about us’ (don’t ask me how I was going to handle wearing these during our standing picnic). When I finally do catch up to him it’s only because he’s stopped outside a door.

We’re backstage now and there’s no one else nearby. Even so, he opens the door handle, holding a hand out for me to go inside. I have no idea what’s gotten into Luke, but I do as he’s asking and step inside what appears to be a storage room. There are shelves of random supplies and a rolling cart stacked with chairs. I don’t have time to look at anything else though, because a second later the door is shutting behind us and Luke is turning me to face him.

One long second passes where his eyes meet mine and I realize with a burst of heat that thewildness I saw in the sanctuary was hunger, then the next he pushes me back against the door and captures my mouth with his.

I’m so shocked I don’t respond right away, but then, then I sink into this long-awaited kiss. My tupperware of cookies drops to the floor as my arms start to rise up to wrap around his neck, but then, as quickly as it started the kiss is over and Luke steps back looking completely horrified.

Not exactly an encouraging response. Especially considering how good that kiss was for me. Nobody wants to be the bad kisser in a relationship.

“Oh geez,” he rasps. “I’m so sorry, Hannah.” He rakes a hand through his hair, looking completely tortured.

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