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Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

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paper bag in his left hand. <strong>My</strong> heart rate speeds up and I know it’s<br />

because I’m hoping he’s running after me to apologize. To say he<br />

wasn’t teasing and that he really is glad to have me on the team.<br />

Ha!<br />

“Here,” he says, handing me the paper bag. “Aunt Lili didn’t want<br />

you to leave without your bougatsa.”<br />

I stare at the bag. Why did my heart have to get its hopes up?<br />

“Thanks,” I mumble. “But we didn’t pay for this.”<br />

When I try to give the bag back he waves me off. “Lili wants you<br />

to have it.” He dips his head a little so he’s looking into my eyes.<br />

“She says you have excellent taste in pastry.”<br />

“Really?”<br />

He nods, smiling just a tiny bit. I almost miss it.<br />

“Tell her thank you,” Mom says, breaking that momentary connection<br />

between me and Griffin.<br />

He looks up at her, his eyes wide like he’d forgotten she was even<br />

here. “Sure,” he says. That polite smile returns. “No problem.”<br />

Without another word, he turns and runs back up the street.<br />

“He seems like a nice young man,” Mom says, watching him<br />

retreat.<br />

“Yeah,” I say. “If you catch him on a good day.”<br />

Too bad he doesn’t have many.<br />

“You’re not wearing that,” Nicole says the second she walks in my<br />

room. “Fuzzy gray sweats will send Griffin into Adara’s arms—not<br />

yours.”<br />

147

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