Meet Your Match

16

If Hanna got tired of me stealing glances at her after that "How many?" remark, she didn't show it.

When she caught me on our bed with something I didn't want her to see, I shoved the object under my shirt. It bulged ridiculously on my belly while I sat back and failed to look innocent.

My cheeks blushed up lava as she approached. I inhaled hints of the peach preserves she'd had for breakfast.

She leaned over me, planting her palm next to my thigh, one nail decorated with a smiley sticker. When I didn't protest, she slid my shirt up inch by inch—

"What?" Perplexed was an understatement.

Lifting the glue bottle, I pointed at the bright label as if I was a salesperson. "I liked the color." She didn't need to know what the useful substance was for.

"I like your color," Hanna teased.

"Beets," I hissed in humiliation.

She straightened. Her rainbow bathing suit practically winked at me through her shirt. Her hair loved her face too much, clinging and caressing in ways I could only fantasize about. There wasn't a detail that didn't mock me. "I would've thought Russian cuisine would have taught you: beets are delicious."

The hottest human in the world could never know that I screeched at the vegetable on sight.

"Hanna? Halle!"

"Hey, lovebirds!"

I scowled toward the loud voices. The TV had already given us a heads-up about our upcoming group challenge, and downstairs, everyone was fussing over what it would be. They wanted us to brainstorm with them.

In no rush, I slipped away to the confidential while Hanna was distracted by her phone.

If I was gone long enough, she would find me like she always did. Until then, I'd have time to think—outside the booth, where precious minutes wouldn't be wasted.

Late yesterday I'd fallen asleep on the cozy heart cushion after thumb-wrestling Kieran for it. Stirred by a breeze—someone had opened a window and covered me with a fluffy blanket—I'd been rising in search of a glass of water when Hanna had spoken on the nearest TV.

"...has the prettiest eyes." On her phone, her back to the camera, staring out at the island from our room. "Dark blue."

I had dark blue eyes. Granted, Mitch did, too—but Hanna wouldn't have been complimenting him. I'd been stricken by how badly I had wanted it to be me, embarrassed at the likelihood that it was instead a newborn or an acquaintance who had nothing to do with me.

The violation of privacy dawning on me, I had dashed out to the yard, terrified of what Hanna might've said next in that extra-soft whisper I'd rarely heard her use. I had gotten through the rest of the night as a bleary-eyed chair lump, too paranoid to return for my blanket.

The experience had activated every internal alarm. If Hanna had been shown criticizing me, I would've been crushed.

I was never meant to care that much.

When Hanna did arrive, her obvious satisfaction at tracking me down faded fast. The reason behind this meeting would be no mystery to her.

She sat with me in the confidential and waited for me to blurt it out.

It wasn't a long wait.

"You're too easy—"

Ah. Terrible.

Hanna was mercifully unperturbed. "Most people find me the opposite."

"No. You're too easy," I gulped, "to get lost in."