Page 57 of The Goode Girls of Maple Lane
CAMERON:He cycles over two hundred miles a week. For fun. Of course he’s fit
HANNAH:Fit, and with an actual brain! Didn’t you say he cooks, too?
CAMERON:Are you telling me you’re thinking of visiting?
HANNAH:I’m not THAT thirsty. But your TikTok might hit a record number of views
CAMERON:Speaking of numbers... should I give him yours?
HANNAH:God, no. I’d only fall for him, tell him I’m in love with him, and get dumped
CAMERON:That was ONE time
HANNAH:Sometimes one is all it takes...
Oh, Hannah, I think, and wish I had a way to make her forget that guy ever existed, though I guess I wouldn’t appreciate Everett as much if I hadn’t kissed a few frogs first. Still, Hannah deserves so much better, and I won’t stop hoping she’ll find it.
After a few more texts, we sign off with the usual heart emojis and I pocket my phone.
“Everything okay?” Khalil asks, now seated on the floor with Aggie basically in his lap.
I consider telling him my best friend thinks he’s hot, and that they’d probably be perfect together if they ever met, but since they’re unlikely to cross paths, I’m not about to meddle.
“Just my friend in the UK,” I say. “The one I’ve told you about who’s getting her law degree and doing Ironman races. She’s impressed with the ball you made.”
“Yeah? Cool.” Khalil flushes again, fighting a shy smile he buries against Aggie’s neck.
Okay, maybe I can revisit the meddling idea. But only if the opportunity arises.
Tucking that thought aside, we pick back up where we left off, chatting about everything and nothing while sending Aggie back and forth down the hall so she gets her exercise since it’s too cold and slushy outside to enjoy the park. I don’t know why I alwaysexpect March to feel like spring when it always feels like winter’s stubborn refusal to end. There’s always one more snowfall. One more freezing rain. One more day to bundle up while wishing I could hibernate.
Khalil’s expressing a similar sentiment when the elevator dings and Regina and Tegan stumble into the hall, locked in a tight embrace, hands roving, clothes bunched, mid-make-out.
“Look out!” I shout before they stumble over the ball or Aggie barrels into them.
They pull apart, laughing as they turn and see us.
“Sorry, sorry!” Regina waves her hands like she’s erasing the space between us.
“We didn’t expect anyone to be here,” Tegan says.
“And if youdidexpect someone?” Khalil challenges.
Regina and Tegan exchange a look, then burst into more laughter.
“I don’t know what it is about that elevator,” Regina says.
She and Tegan both look at me, which means it’s my turn to blush. Thankfully, Tegan quickly redirects everyone’s attention by holding up a large bag from Pâtisserie Amour.
“Warm croissant, anyone?” she asks. “We got greedy and bought more than we need.”
Aggie’s first to wander over, because of course she is, but Khalil and I clamber up and join her, lured as easily as she is by the smell of fresh-from-the-oven, flaky, buttery pastry.
I reach into the bag Tegan holds open for us. “I’ve been dying to try one of these.”
“And you haven’t had one yet because...” she asks.
“Johann’s been so generous,” I say. “And I know how he feels about his rival.”
