Page 42 of Hate You, Maybe
“I’ve been trying to work with you since lunch,” I say. “But I kind of got the feeling you were avoiding me.”
She shifts her weight. “I kind of was.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. The icebreaker was just … weird for me.” A tiny furrow forms on her brow. “All day has been weird. Between the drive here and the cabin sharing and everything, we’ve been around each other a lot. And that’s not ideal, you know?”
“That’s the whole point of coming here.”
“I’m aware.” She wrinkles her nose. “But at the end of all this, you and I are still competitors. We both want that grant, and only one of our departments can win. So I can’t afford to lose my edge.”
I stuff my hands in my pockets. “So we’re stuck here, supposedly figuring out a way to impress the accreditation committee, but you still want to hate me. Is that it?”
“In a nutshell.”
I huff out a breath. “I’ll resist the urge to make a joke about my nuts and stick with saying you aren’t losing your edge, Kroft. Youwon’tlose it.”
She blinks up at me. “How do you know?”
“All the evidence gathered over the past three years,” I say. “But the bottom line is we’ve got to deal with the SACSS first before we worry about the FRIG.”
Her lip quivers. “Those acronyms, though.”
“They’re something special, all right.”
“Mr. Wilford is?—”
“Okay, Rebooters,” Hildy calls out. “Time for the mystery activity!”
She and Bob direct us outside and over to the campfire circle. Fern’s already seated there on one of the logs. Woodsmoke curls up from the center of a blazing fire, but the sky’s already tipped toward evening, and the temperatures have dropped with the sun.
Sayla lets out a little shiver, and I peel off my sweatshirt. “Here.” I transfer the oversized hoodie into her arms. “Layer this on top of yours.”
“I’ll be fine if we’re by the fire,” she says.
“Just take it. Please. I run hot anyway.”
A frown flashes across her face, but she lifts her arms and I help her put the sweatshirt on anyway. The sight of her in my Gray Squirrels hoodie does something to my heart. Tiny sparks flicker around my chest like the flames in the fire pit.
“Pick a log,” Bob says. “Any log. Then have a seat.”
“Maybe we’re making s’mores,” Sayla whispers.
“Beforedinner?”
She shrugs. “A girl can hope.”
“Frankly, I’m good with anything as long as we’re done breathing into our feet.”
I point us toward a wide-open spot across the fire. As we sit, Hogan claims the other side of her. Then Tori sinks onto the spot next to me. Caroline drops down next to Tori, saving this from seeming like some kind of double date. Once everyone’s settled, Bob nods to indicate Fern.
“You’ve all had a chance to meet Fern by now,” he says.There are murmurs around the circle. Nods of acknowledgment. “Now she’s gonna lead us all in somethingreallyneat.”
Neat?
I’m skeptical.
“Hello again, friends.” Her even-keeled voice is steady over the pops and crackles of the fire. “Our yoga activity gave you all a chance to work on your physical muscles. And I’d like to invite you all to think back to that moment when you listened to your body. And to your breath.”
