Page 18 of The Friend Game

“Well, no,” I admit. “Not in so many words. But we’ve flirted some.”

“Right.” She looks at me like I’m one step away from needing to be sent to the psych ward. “That makes sense then, why you’d be worried about the two of you getting married and you then having the same name as a Harry Potter character.”

“Don’t judge me,” I protest. “In high school you refused to go to a dance with a boy named Phil, because you said if you became a couple you’d be Phil and Jill, and that was completely unacceptable. Remember that?”

“I do remember that,” Jill nods, “but you seem to have missed the key difference between the two scenarios.”

“Which is what?”

“Phil actuallyasked me out.”

Brooke snorts again, and I shoot her a glare. “I’m going up to sing,” I tell them both loftily, standing up off my chair and stepping towards the stage. “A solo,” I add. “No duets or trios tonight. You two don’t deserve it.”

“Love you, Hannah!” Jill calls after me, and Brooke whoops.

“Barry,” I say to Brooke’s piano guy as I reach the stage and step in line behind an extremely handsy couple, “play me some Carly, please. ‘You’re So Vain.’”

“You got it, Hannah.” Barry grins at me, and I start mouthing the words as I wait my turn. Not to be completely stereotypical, but this song was something of an anthem for me after my breakup with Marshall. Even now just muttering the words gets me a little fired up. I need to put aside thoughts of starting a new relationship, with Luke or anyone else for that matter. My heart can’t afford to get hurt again so soon.

So tonight, I’m singing this one for Luke. Even if he doesn’t seem vain to me at all. And I also can’t really picture him in an apricot scarf. Or gavotting. Does he have a horse? Or a jet?

I shake away these thoughts. None of that’s important, because tonight I am so independent, Thomas Jefferson would be impressed.

When I take the stage a few minutes later it’s to the raucous cheers and catcalls of Brooke and Jill, but I tune them out, ready for my moment.

Barry starts the opening notes and the words pop up on the screen across the bar. “Son of—” I begin Carly’s opening line, only to have my voice falter as the door to the bar opens and Luke, the man I’m supposed to be singing about, walks in and I forget my lines. He’s with a woman. A woman that’s not me.

Obviously.

He hasn’t noticed me up here on stage not singing. He’s too busy following the woman to the back of the bar; a large box in his hands blocking me from getting a good look at this other woman.

“Apricot,” I finally squeak, tearing my gaze away from Luke and whoever the woman is, and forcing my eyes back to the lyric screen. I pick up the next line, singing even though I can barely hear my voice over the pounding of my heart in my ears.

Why is Luke here? Per the lyrics he’s supposed to be in Nova Scotia looking at an eclipse. Though the being with another woman is on point with the song. She didn’t look like a spy though. Then again, I only saw the back of her.

I start the last refrain just as Luke reappears without the woman and the box. His eyes travel to the stage, and he does a double take. His feet slow to a stop, and, as I hit the last note, a smile spreadsacross his face. He waves, and darn it if I don’t smile and wave back. There goes my anthem. And my Thomas Jefferson endorsement.

Whatever, he’s long dead anyway.

I spot Jill and Brooke swiveling in their seats to see who I waved to. Jill leans over and whispers something to Brooke. As I hurry to dismount from the stage I can practically see the glee emanating from the pair of them. Before I’ve even made it halfway down the stage stairs, Jill bounces out of her seat and makes a beeline for Luke, gesturing animatedly for him to come over and join us. And he does! He and Jill reach our table before I do. I watch as introductions are performed, but as soon as Luke has finished greeting Brooke his eyes travel to me, holding my gaze. My legs respond like they’ve just hit a mushroom in Mario Kart, accelerating of their own accord.

“Luke, hi,” I say a little breathlessly as I reach the table.

“Hey, Hannah.” Gosh, I forgot how deep his voice is and how broad his shoulders are. Actually, no I didn’t forget any of that, it just needed to be restated and appreciated.

“Pastor Abbott,” Jill informs me, “gave Sydney a ride.”

Sydney? Luke is dating Sydney? Sydney is a waitress here at Twist and Shout and Brooke’s best friend. She’s also a young, single mother of aprecocious 8-year-old girl. I have always really liked Sydney despite her ability to have a flatter stomach than me even after giving birth to a human. But now she’s dating Luke!

Clearly, I’m a bad judge of character.

“Her car broke down,” Luke explains.

“And this nice guy driving by offered to give me a ride. And since I was late for work already, and because he passed my Google test, I accepted.” Sydney appears over Luke’s shoulder, her black waitress apron now tied in place around her aforementioned slim hips.

“Your Google test?” Brooke queries.

“Yes.” Sydney pulls out her phone and tilts it back and forth. “I can’t just get in the car with some random dude who offers me a ride when my car battery dies. So I held him at pepper spray point, demanded he tell me his name, then I googled him.” She shrugs like all of this is totally normal. Jill shakes her head and Brooke chuckles.

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