“No. I left it in my locker.” She smiles.
“Even better. I hate that we have to worry about your phone.”
“Me too, but it is what it is.” Hannah comes into the house, plopping down on the sectional. “So, what are you making me for lunch, Hot Cross Buns?”
I walk over to the fridge, opening it up. “I have carrots and celery with veggie dip or leftover pizza.”
“The veggies. Do you have any soda besides Mt. Dew?”
“I have watermelon Baja Blast Mt. Dew?”
“Ooh, that will work.”
I grab two sodas and cart the vegetables and dip into the family room, setting everything on the coffee table.
“So,” Hannah leans back against me, laying her head on my chest. “What’s going on?”
“Violet Richland asked me to the Winter Formal,” I say, biting into a carrot.
“Huh,” is all Hannah says.
“She did apologize for propositioning me and trying to touch my junk.”
That gets Hannah’s attention. She sits up and turns around, looking at me wide-eyed. “No wonder you jumped out of your seat like your pants were on fire that day. Sheesh.”
She starts to turn around but stops. “What did you say to her about the dance?”
“I told her the truth. I was going stag with my buddies.”
“What drama did you have before class?” Hannah asks.
I scrunch my forehead at her. “How’d you know I had drama?”
“You were almost late for class, and you came in looking irritated and put out. Did you see Bree or something?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“She was waiting at my locker.”
“I’m sorry, but she’s a first-rate stalker. I wouldn’t doubt she knows your class schedule. Did she want to apologize for Saturday night?” Hannah laughs.
“Yep. She also asked me to the Winter Formal.” I grab Hannah’s hips and shift her so she’s sitting across my lap.
She grabs her soda and takes a couple of big gulps, then holds it out for me. I take a few drinks and sit it down on the coffee table.
“I’m done talking.” She wraps her arms around my neck and falls back on the sofa, taking me with her.
“Whatever the lady wants.” I smile. She presses her mouth to mine, and we move with a gentle caress. I shift so I’m on top of her and rest some of my weight against her. We kiss for a while, then lay together until the alarm on my phone goes off.
“How many dance proposals do you think you’ll get between now and Saturday?” Hannah asks, scrubbing her hand through my hair and scratching my scalp.
“Two too many.” I groan, dropping my head into her chest and nipping at her boob through her shirt.
“We should do a betting pool.”
“Hannah, stop,” I whine, nuzzling my nose between her breasts.