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I couldn’t eat the cookie Scottie had insisted on giving me, so I decided to brave the communal kitchen to make myself a quick snack. But I regretted it the second Natalie and a couple of her friends appeared.
“Harper, didn’t expect to see you in here.”
“I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.” I grabbed my gluten-free bagels and a clean baking tray for the grill.
“You know, you could just use the toaster.”
Actually, I couldn’t. But I wasn’t about to try and educate someone like her on the issues of cross-contamination.
“It’s fine,” I said, hoping she’d drop it.
“It’s just a toaster, Harper. Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?”
Smothering a groan, I focused on putting my bagel on the grill. This was one of the reasons I tried to avoid the kitchen. Or the common room. Or any dorm parties.
Natalie didn’t like me, and since she was popular, everyone had taken her side.
Ignoring the three of them, I went to the refrigerator to grab my Nutella, but their conversation caught my attention.
“Need to look hot for the Bite the Ice party this weekend. Maybe I’ll finally get Mason to notice me.”
“Don’t hold your breath, girl. You know how discreet Mason likes to be.”
“I can be discreet,” Natalie snorted.
“You can also be a vain bitch.”
“Rude, but true.”
They all laughed. But all I could think about was the way Mason had acted earlier when he’d realized I was volunteering at the center.
I pulled out the grill rack and offloaded my bagel onto a plate. After smearing Nutella all over it, I grabbed a piece of kitchen towel and headed for the door.
“You’re not staying?” Natalie called.
“Nope,” I murmured under my breath, walking out of there without so much as a backward glance.
If she ever found out about my failed attempt to befriend Mason, she would never let me forget about it. And she had already made my life at Hocking Hall difficult enough.
But her voice stopped me in my tracks before I could escape. “You know, I heard an interesting rumor today,” she said.
Great. Just what I didn’t need.
“You did?” I played dumb, barely glancing back at her.
“I heard that your dad is the Lakers’ new assistant coach.”
“So what if he is?”
“Well, that’s got to kind of suck. I mean, the guys won’t touch you now. You’re the coach’s daughter.”
“Or they’ll want to touch herbecauseshe’s the coach’s daughter.” One of the other girls laughed, but it wasn’t a kind sound. It was bitter and full of thorns.
“Makes no difference to me.” I shrugged, trying to ignore their mean girl comments.
“You say that, but it’s got to suck being friends with the only three girls lucky enough to be dating Lakers.”
“Are you getting to your point?” A weary sigh rolled through me. “Because it’s late, and I’m tired.”
