Page 31 of The Friend Game

“Yes, but I’m pretty sure you do have pull with a guy who does have pull with admissions. A guy who, from what I’ve heard, is a big proponent of increasing the number of scholarship students at Grace Canyon.”

Luke. I haven’t seen him since our conversation Thursday, and while I spent Thursday afternoon flying high on a cloud of happiness, I woke up Friday morning in a pit of anxiety. I’m thrilled that Luke wants to take me out four months from now, but how am I supposed to act around him in the meantime? And what if he changes his mind? What if I change my mind? What if he dies and we never get to go out? Okay, that last one is a bit dramatic.

Also, I may have spent my walk with Holly this morning composing an impassioned speech to give the elders and deacons of the church in aneffort to convince them to nullify Luke’s contract. Clearly, I went with an emotional appeal over a logical one.

“Brooke,” I redirect my attention back to her, “I don’t really have pull with him. I mean, sure, we’re friends, but—”

“I saw you two last Sunday,” Brooke interrupts. “You were like two awkward teenagers both trying to figure out if the other person liked them.”

“Wow, that’s so sweet of you to say,” I reply dryly.

“What I mean is, the man clearly has a thing for you.” Even though Luke said as much on Thursday, it still gives me a thrill of pleasure to hear Brooke say it. “So all I’m asking is that you just tell him about Caroline and see what he says.”

“Brooke,” I hedge, “I’m not sure I’m comfortable—”

“Hannah, she’s being bullied!” Brooke cries. “And the school isn’t doing anything about it, because the kid bullying her is the daughter of the superintendent. They just keep blaming Caroline, going on about how she must’ve misunderstood Delilah or how she was being too sensitive.” Brooke scoffs. “How can you misunderstand someone calling you fat? Taunting you every day in the lunchroom?”

“What?” The word comes out as a hiss. Anger clenches in my stomach. Someone called Caroline fat? And the school did nothing? As a kid who was a little chubby myself, I am more than a little outraged on her behalf. Caroline may not have the lithe figure of her mother, but she is a healthy, active little girl who, like all children, deserves to feel safe and respected at school.

“I know, it’s awful.” Brooke lets out a long breath. “So now you understand why I need you to help Sydney get her a scholarship to Grace Canyon.”

“Yes, I guess I do.” I sigh. I do want to help, but how do I approach Luke with this request when I barely know how to approach him in general right now.Hiya, Luke, remember me? We’re going on a date in four months. Just checking on a couple of things, first, are we still on for that date? Second, can we still hang out between now and then? Like as friends? Oh, and third, can you do me one small favor and see if the school has an extra $20,000 in their scholarship fund? It’s for a friend.

Hmmm…definitely need to nix the hiya.

“I knew you’d help!” Brooke trills. “No pressure, but she’d love to start as early as Monday.”

“Monday?” I parrot incredulously. “You’re joking. I won’t even see Luke before Monday.”

“Then you’re welcome,” Brooke says simply.

“You’re welcome? For what?”

“For giving you an excuse to see your man before Monday,” Brooke replies smoothly. Before I can answer, she adds, “Okay, thanks. Call me tomorrow with an update. Love ya, sis! Bye!”

“Brooke!” I cry, but my words fall on dead air.

I slump back against the toilet tank. What am I supposed to do now? Sometimes I think Brooke lives in a different universe, one where dreams always come true, your hair is always perfect, and men are like produce: you just go out to the store and rummage through them till you find the shiniest one to take home. Not that she takes guys home, I just mean she thinks the only obstacle between her and any man is whether or not she wants to date them, because of course they all want to date her. She’s not full of herself either; it’s just proven to be true in the 28 years she’s been alive.

I, on the other hand, most recently dated a man who made me feel like the shiniest apple in the world for a little while, but ultimately decided I no longer held any value to him, on both a personal and professional level. Not to take the analogy too far, but he essentially threw me down on the ground and turned me into a bruised apple. Now I’m down here waiting for someone to decide to pick me up bruises and all. Brooke asking me to seek out Luketo ask him for his help feels too much like me rolling my bruised apple self in front of him, then going home stuck to his shoe.

The point is, I don’t want to force myself on the guy. I’m too fragile for that. For once, I’d like to be pursued. The one a guy sets his sights on, or whatever. Luke said on Thursday that he wants to go out with me when his contract ends, but he said nothing about wanting to see me in the meantime. And I really don’t want to be the first one to admit that I’d like to see him. I want him to be more desperate to see me.

Which is why in my late night daydreams yesterday, I imagined Luke standing at my classroom door Monday morning holding a cup of coffee for me and saying he missed me over the weekend and just had to see me. Obviously we’d keep things friendly, but the undercurrent of attraction would still be there, swirling around between us like an underwater tornado that has to eventually break the surface.

I stand up and spritz my face with water from the sink. Then I hurry to get down to the business at hand instead of getting caught up in yet another daydream. I douse the sink with my cleaning spray, watching as it foams up atop the porcelain. I suppose I could go with Jill and her family to church tomorrow. Luke will be there, after all, butLuke also knows I don’t usually go there, so it still feels like seeking him out.

What do pastors do on Saturdays, anyway? Finish up their sermons for the next day, most likely. But that surely doesn’t take the whole day. Does Luke spend fall Saturdays watching football like so many Americans? He did play football after all, so perhaps he’s watching the U of A game, cheering on his alma mater.

Or maybe he’s running a 5k.

Glad all my ideas about what Luke does when he’s not working are based on a Google search.

I finish my sink and move on to the toilet. Maybe Luke is doing some house cleaning this morning too. Maybe Luke even likes scrubbing toilets. There are people like that, after all. People who actually claim they find cleaning therapeutic rather than exhausting and gross.

Gosh, if Luke does like cleaning toilets he might be the perfect man. I should add that to my list of things I’m looking for in a future husband. Kind, funny, loves Jesus, likes cleaning toilets.

It’s a solid list.

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