Her face burned. “Oh, to schedule a conference.”
“A conference. Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Frida leaned in close and whispered, “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a little one-on-one time with Grant.”
“I wasn’t…” Em leaned back in the hard, plastic chair. “Fine, I was looking at his Instagram. Happy?”
Frida shook her head causing her dark curls to bounce. “I’d be a lot happier if you didn’t feel the need to hide it from me. You act like I don’t see the way you’re both treating the app like it’s Match.com.”
Em sat up and looked around to see if any of the other teachers had heard Frida. Her best friend teasing her was one thing, but Em didn’t want her coworkers to overhear them talk about a dating site—especially since she wasn’t on one. She narrowed her eyes at Frida.
“I follow you both. I see the way you like each other’s posts.” Frida paused. “And the way you’ve gone from posting once a week to every day.”
“I can’t help that I’ve recently discovered my love of selfies.”
Frida snorted. “You don’t have to explain it to me, you know. You’re allowed to have a crush.”
Em really wished everyone would stop using that word. What was going on between her and Grant wasn’t a crush. It was more like low-key flirting. Something just between them. They didn’t have to acknowledge anything was happening—because nothing was—but it was nice to know that there was a guy out there who thought about her every once in a while.
“So, I was thinking about coming to the game tonight,” Frida said, changing the subject.
“You are?” Her eyes went back up to the stage as their principal started listing the prizes for the top sellers. The kids all cheered loudly. When they quieted down, she turned in her seat toward Frida. “You’re not going to say anything to Grant, are you?”
“I told you I wasn’t going to embarrass you. I just feel like getting out today, and I know Finn gets free tickets.”
All the players did. They got a couple box seats and then a few general admission tickets. “I can ask if Finn gave all his tickets away.”
“Awesome. Since I don’t have any Storm shirts, should we make homemade Grant jerseys? You know I’ve got all kinds of supplies at my house.” Frida laughed loudly enough to get the attention of a nearby teacher.
Em gave them an apologetic smile for the disruption, before she glared at her friend. “Don’t you dare.”
She pouted. “Come on. You know I like any excuse to get dressed up.”
It was true, all part of Frida’s creative nature. “If I lend you one of Finn’s jerseys, will you promise not to make a Grant shirt?”
“Of course. But I want the one you just won.”
Em had spent a fortune on it and only worn it once. But lending it to Frida was a much better option than Frida wearing one with Vaughn on the back. She sighed. “Fine. I’ll bring it when I pick you up.”
“I didn’t knowthis was the O’Brien cheering section,” Miriam said as Frida and Em found their seats beside her, both wearing Finn’s jerseys.
While Em wore an old one loose over her denim shorts for an easy casual look, Frida had taken a more creative approach to wearing hers. She tied the one-of-a-kind jersey at the waist and wore a black miniskirt that showed off her killer legs. The ensemble was topped off with homemade soccer earrings that dangled from her ears.
She looked like a sporty version of Ms. Frizzle without the bright, orange hair.
Being next to the boards, they were sure to be in a lot of the live footage of the game and, as Miriam pointed out, they looked like a bunch of fangirls.
Though being accused of being part of her brother’s cheering section was better than talking about her “crush”on Grant. Since Em would be sitting between the two women who had accused her of having a thing for Grant, she would gladly take the alternative.
She smiled at Miriam. “Maybe he’s feeling left out after seeing the way you fawn all over Silas.”
Miriam rolled her eyes. “Like I’m fawning over him. Silas has enough adoring fans that I don’t need to feed his ego anymore.”
Em lifted a brow.
“Exhibit A is sitting two rows behind me. Dark hair, Storm jersey, gorgeous. Even after Silas told her nothing was going to happen between them, she comes to all the games and screams his name the entire time.”
Em made a show of reaching her arms above her head and spinning in both directions like she was stretching her back. When she turned around, she let her gaze go up to the stands behind them. Two rows up was a girl matching Miriam’s description—though she wasn’t nearly as pretty as Miriam had implied. “Does it bother you?”
Miriam shrugged. “It used to, but Silas made it obvious that he doesn’t care about anyone else but me. It gets a little awkward at Storm events, but it’s mostly just funny now.”
