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“Nothing.” Mia gives a little shrug. “They’re being totally normal.”
That can’t be right. I narrow my eyes. “No one’s hitting him?”
“Nope.”
“Or getting up in his face?”
“No.”
“Felix isn’t choking him?”
Mia blinks. “Is that something Felix would do? I thought he was the bookworm.”
“He is. But it’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch out for,” I tell her.
“They’realljust sitting quietly.” There’s a loud cheer behind us, and I recognize several of the voices. “Okay,notquietly,” Mia amends. “But they’re only yelling at the TV, not at Logan.” Her expression turns wistful. “Are you sure I’m not allowed to date any of them? I mean, if you’re dating Logan … ”
“Fakedating. And no. Stay away. I know how this would go—badly. You’d date one of them, break up, and then I’d be stuck like a child in a custody battle. No dating hockey players.”
“Who’s dating hockey players?” Hazel asks, appearing behind Mia and dragging a stool over. Though we both went to Harvest High with Hazel, we only started hanging out a few months back after my car broke down. Hazel was the one who fixed it. With her petite frame and blond hair, she’s smashing all the stereotypes of mechanics. She’s awesome.
“No one,” Mia and I say at the same time.
“Parker won’t let me,” Mia adds with a pout.
Hazel gives the hockey table behind me a quick perusal. “AmIallowed to date them?”
“Nope.”
“Not even the dirty blond who’s kind of bouncy?” She has to mean Eli. Smiling, Hazel adds, “He’s like a human Tigger.”
Definitely Eli. “Nope. Trust me when I say stay away.”
“Even if he comes over here?” Hazel asks.
“Especially then.”
Eli appears beside our table, and I sigh heavily.
“Hey, Boss,” he says. “Good to see you, Mia. And you as well, beautiful stranger.”
“This is Hazel, and she’s myfriend. Which means she’s under my protection in case you get any bad ideas.”
“I never have bad ideas,” he says, still smiling at Hazel.
“Youonlyhave bad ideas,” I mutter. But he and Hazel are swapping numbers.
Mia kicks me under the table after Eli bounces back to the hockey guys. “Now you owe me a hockey player if Hazel gets one.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” I say.
“He probably won’t ever call. Or text,” Hazel says. “But he’s still very pretty.”
“Keep in mind that he’s got the heart of a golden retriever puppy and is about as likely to commit to one woman as a puppy is not to chew up shoes.”
“It’s so unfair,” Mia says. “Now you and Parker are dating hockey guys.”
Hazel shakes her head. “Again, not dating. Just exchanged numbers.” Then her eyes go wide and she swings her gaze to me. “Wait—you too? Which one?”
