"And you're attracted to her."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to. You get this look." Maya grins. "The same look you had sophomore year when you were into that girl from your stats class. What was her name? Emma?"
"This is not the same as Emma."
"Because Emma was nice and this girl wrote mean things about you?"
"Because Emma was available and interested and this is literally a professional adversary."
"Professional adversary." Maya laughs. "That's what you're calling her? Not 'journalist' or 'pain in my ass' but 'professional adversary'?"
"Can we talk about something else?"
"Fine. But for the record? I think you should ask her out."
"That's possibly the worst advice you've ever given me."
"Or the best. Guess we'll find out."
Now this conversation has not gone the way I thought it would. Not even five minutes here and she's already throwing her option about things to me. I mean she hasn’t even met the girl, but for some crazy reason she thinks I like her.
No, I don't like her.
***
Saturday morning, Lennox is scheduled to observe practice again. I warned her Maya would be there, professional courtesy, nothing more and she'd responded with a simple:.Understood. I'll maintain appropriate boundaries.
When I arrive at the rink with Maya at 5:45 AM, Lennox is already in the bleachers.
She's wearing the same puffy jacket, her hair in thatmessy ponytail, and she's got her notebook open. When she sees us, she waves politely but doesn't approach.
"That's her?" Maya whispers.
"Yeah."
"She's cute."
"Maya—"
"What? She is. In that 'I haven't slept in days but I'm still functional' way that's very college chic."
"Please stop." I almost beg her.
"Fine. I'll just sit here and observe. Take notes. Maybe do some journalism of my own."
"You're seventeen."
"And? I have eyes. And opinions." She walks away from me, before I can say anything to her.
Practice starts, and I try to focus on drills instead of the fact that both Lennox and my sister are watching.
It's distracting.
Halfway through, during a water break, Maya leans over the boards and I hear.
"Hey! You're the journalist, right?"
