Page 75 of Play Maker

“Absolutely,” Greer replies without missing a beat or somehow not looking away from her phone for more than a beat. Her life must be exhausting. “Especially if he has long legs and a stinky attitude.”

The girls allhowl, including me.

Riley gives me a sideways glance and sips her decaf tea. “So,” she says too casually, “is Giraffe tall and broody and plays football for a living?”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing now?” I say, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“I’m just saying,” Mags calls from the kitchen, “somebody’s been walking around, looking suspiciously well-smooched this week.”

“We allknewit.” Izzy points an accusatory glue stick in my direction. “That morning we walked in, that was the night. Don’t lie.”

“Not a lie.” I hold up three fingers, not even sure if that’s the Girl Scout promise or not. It was a long time ago.

Sydney gives me a wicked grin. “And you’ve been swooning.”

Greer raises a brow. “She swoons?”

“I do not swoon,” I defend.

“Wanna draw a spoon, Evie?” Lily asks, thankfully clueless about this conversation.

“Yep, I do,” Evie answers.

“Youdoswoon,” Riley says quietly through a laugh. “And we know this because it’s the total opposite of the stewing. And that’s all you used to do whenever Giraffe was around.”

“She’s not wrong,” Izzy mutters.

“I don’t see how any of this proves anything.” I grab a pillow and place it in my lap.

Evie looks up from her glitter glue chaos and whispers, “Are you talking about your boyfriend?”

I smile and shake my head. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Yet.

The girls all exchange a look, one of those wordless, psychic girl-code glances that says,We’ll see about that.

I lean back into the cushions, sip my cocoa, and try not to smile like a complete idiot. Because, yeah, maybe he’s not my boyfriend, but the girls aren’t wrong—there’s definitely aGiraffein my story.

It took a little bit to convince Greer to let Evie stay the night and have the first official girl bossesses sleepover with Lily. Greer told us that even under her roof she kept a little Teddy cam in her room, which was at Micah’s insistence. That was the first mention of his name that Maggie didn’t look like she wanted to spit nails. After that, I dragged a tent out and set it in the corner of my bedroom, and they fell asleep within minutes.

* * *

“Now that we don’t have to talk in code”—Syd smiles, eyes gleaming with trouble—“tell us the truth—when did you two actually, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” I deadpan, popping another chocolate into my mouth. “You’ll have to be way less subtle.”

“Did you do the horizontal touchdown?” Izzy says, absolutely zero shame in her voice.

“Oh my God,” Greer mutters, nearly choking on her tea. “Thewhat?”

“She means, did you have sex?” Mags translates with a grin, like we’re in fourth grade health class and I’m the poster girl for Finally Losing It.

Riley gasps dramatically. “Oh my God. Was itin the silo? Did he climb the stairs like a farmer ready to enter your dell?”

“Is that what Hudson did?” Izzy asks.

Her face immediately turns red.

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