The Good Girls

Chapter 8

THAT SAME EVENING, UMA AND HARRY were walking up Auradon's main drag. They'd just come out of the movie theater, and they were licking ice-cream cones and looking in the shop windows. The sun had set, all the lights in the shops were on, and the street had a festive atmosphere—music was bumping in the bars, a street guitarist was doing a kick-ass rendition of "Come Together," and clusters of kids were gathered at each corner, laughing and gossiping. Uma held her cone in one hand and Harry's hand in the other, fully aware of how public they were. But hey—they had to go public sometime. And it just felt . . . good. Right. She was with Harry, not Gil, and she was totally proud of that.

A dribble of vanilla ice cream slid down Harry's chin, and Uma reached over to wipe it with her thumb. He grabbed her hand and popped her thumb into his mouth, licking the ice cream from it. Uma's body vibrated with the sensation of his tongue on her fingertip. She leaned forward and pulled him toward her, kissing him firmly.

"Mmmmm. Mint chip," he murmured into her lips.

"My fave," she sighed back.

Harry looked down at her lovingly. "I know. It always has been. Except for your brief dalliance with caramel swirl in middle school."

Uma laughed, but inside, she felt a rush of appreciation. She'd known Harry for almost her entire life—they did joint family dinners and even family trips, and then later, while she was dating Gil she spent so much time at his house. She hadn't realized that during all that time, Harry had been paying attention to her in a way that Gil never did. He remembered how she'd hated her geometry teacher two years before, and how the first thing she'd had to eat after she'd gotten her braces off was Laffy Taffy, and that her favorite way to rile Urson up had been to pretend to pull a quarter out from behind his ear, mostly because their uncle did that and they both hated it. Uma could guarantee that Gil remembered none of that stuff. But listening to Harry reference all those details? It made Uma feel so loved. So . . . noticed.

Harry pulled her down onto a bench outside the stationery store. She scooted as close to him as she possibly could, enjoying the warmth of his body as the cool evening breeze brushed her cheeks. "So what did you think of the movie?"

Uma wrinkled up her nose, and he tapped it lightly with his fingertip. "I loved it. You?"

"Loved it. But I don't totally get—"

"—how he was able to switch the formulas and then lure the thing with the tentacles out from under the bench?" she interrupted.

"Exactly. It's like you read my mind." He smiled.
Uma nuzzled into Harry's peacoat, the navy wool scratching against her cheek. Gil would never have gone to see a Japanese anime with her. He would have dismissed it with a laugh as "too freaking nerdy."

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "I wish we could go to one of our houses instead of this cold, hard park bench."

She sighed. "I know. But maybe we'll get to do that soon. My moms might come around, you never know."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Things are better?"

"Marginally, anyway. Since we got cleared of the charges for Jay's murder, they've stopped trailing me." She rolled her eyes.

"Hey!" Harry grinned. "That's awesome. And how about the stuff with me?"

"They'll come around to you, too," Uma said in a soft voice.

At least, she hoped her moms would. But when she'd told them she was going out with Harry tonight, their fakey-fake smiles had dimmed a little.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She slipped a hand in to grab it and answered without looking at the number.

"Congrats, co-captain!" a familiar voice bellowed into her ear. It took Uma a moment to realize it was her soccer coach, Leah.

"Wait, what?" she said into the phone. She could feel Harry staring at her questioningly, so she smiled at him and mouthed Coach Leah.

"You and Aria were elected co-captains!" Leah's voice was permanently set to booming. "I tallied the votes from today's practice, and you two were the clear winners!"

Uma blinked. "Really?" She couldn't stop a wide, stupid grin from spreading across her face. She thought after everything, her chances would be shot. And despite the fact that Chad had been arrested, she'd still worried that the Jay association would be a mark against her. Not that anyone had made it clear they even knew about the Jay association, but still.

And yet . . . she was captain anyway. Her grin grew wider. Not even the fact that she had Aria as co-captain could bring her down. Uma and Aria had known each other for years, playing on traveling soccer teams and bunking together at soccer camps, but they'd always been rivals instead of friends. It seemed like Aria was always trying her hardest to contradict Uma. If Uma said something funny, Aria refused to laugh. If Uma suggested the team wear matching headbands for spirit day, Aria said that was a stupid idea and they should do rubber bracelets instead. Uma didn't know what she'd done to make the girl hate her so much.

Her mind briefly flashed to the conversation they'd had in Audrey's bedroom—the one about the list they'd made in film studies, and how Aria had been in that class, too. But she quickly whisked the thought away.

"That's right!" Leah trilled. "Congratulations, Captain! I know you'll do a great job."

Before hanging up, Leah said a few more details about how she'd need to start leading drills and helping plan spirit activities. Uma hit the END button and pressed the phone between her palms. Then she took a deep breath and looked at Harry. "I'm captain!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him.

Harry was stiff for a moment. "Captain!" he said slowly. "Of . . . what, the soccer team?"

"Duh! Yeah!" Uma released him from her grip and hopped off the bench, dancing a jig in front of him."

Harry looked at her cockeyed. "So this is a good thing?"

"Of course it is!" Uma stopped, realizing something was wrong. "What is it? You seem . . . I don't know. Pissed."

Harry looked alarmed. "Of course not! I just . . . I thought you were conflicted about soccer. That's all."

Uma sat back down. "It doesn't mean I want to stop playing." She reached for his hand. "There's a game in a few weeks where the captains walk onto the field with their Homecoming dates. Will you do that with me? Please?"

"Homecoming?" Harry tugged at his collar. "Oh, god. Dances are so not my thing."

"Come on. It'll be fun!" She gripped her phone, realizing she had a million people to call. Her moms, Vanessa the Viking, Gil. . .

Gil. Of course she couldn't call Gil—not with Harry sitting right there. And probably not ever. It kind of sucked. Gil would appreciate the captain thing in absolutely the right way. He wouldn't ask her if she still felt conflicted. He wouldn't bring up how he hated Homecoming.

Harry put his hands around her waist and gave her a squeeze. "Okay, well if you're happy, I'm happy." Then he stood. "We should get going. Come on, I'll drop you off."

He led her toward the parking lot, and Uma trailed behind him, her happy feeling the teensiest bit dulled. It wasn't that she missed Gil or anything. She certainly didn't want him back. She just wished Harry's reaction had been . . . different. More enthusiastic. More understanding, the way he was about everything else.

"So," Harry said, squeezing her hand and bringing her mind back to the moment. "Let's do something Saturday night."

"Really?" Uma's eyes lit up.

Harry nodded. "I'll plan all the details. You just show up. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, getting on the moped behind him and grinning stupidly. He was going to take her out to celebrate, wasn't he? Maybe to that new BBQ place they wanted to try. Or that Asian fusion place with the spicy food Gil was afraid of.

Suddenly, Uma felt a rush of euphoria. Harry was reacting in the right way. She was silly to have ever doubted him.