“Who didn’t? I was Hermione for like five straight Halloweens until Maisie made us all go as the Spice Girls one year.”
“Wow,” I say, laughing. “Please tell me there are pictures of the three of you as Spice Girls.”
“All of the evidence has been destroyed.”
“Which spice were you?”
“Posh.”
“I see you more as Ginger,” I say, rubbing my chin. “She was the leader, right?”
“I’m a little scared you know this much about the Spice Girls.”
“My big sister loved the Spice Girls. She made me listen to them with her,” I say, shuddering. “I had to grab my little brother and offer him to her as a sacrifice so I could escape to my room and read. I’d hide behind the bed, so she couldn’t find me.”
“I did that, too!” She sits up straight—her eyes dancing as she looks at me. “My mom would knock on my door every fifteen minutes when I was reading. She never understood why I wanted to spend that much time alone.”
“Same. When the last Harry Potter came out, I literally barricaded myself in my room and didn’t come out until I finished it. I missed a baseball practice. My dad was so pissed. I’m still not sure he’s forgiven me for that.”
The line forms over her eyebrows again. “For missing one baseball practice?”
“Yeah. I had scouts coming to my practices from about age eight on. It wasn’t a great idea to miss a practice if you wanted to get recruited.”
“Did you want to get recruited?”
“Yeah, I mean, I wanted to go to college and a baseball scholarship was the way to do that, you know?” I look over at her. She’s smiling at me. “I got a scholarship from UCLA and played there four years before I got drafted into the league. Another reason my dad was mad at me.”
“What? He was mad at you for going to college?”
“I had an offer from a major league team right out of high school with a pretty big signing bonus. He wanted me to take that.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“We’re getting close to that thing I don’t want to talk about—”
“Okay,” she says, nodding at me as her eyes narrow, “but I have ways to make people talk.”
“I bet you do.” I take a drink of my beer and smile at her. “Do I get to choose which way you use?”
* * *