“And you want that girl with those glasses and poor fashion taste?”
She points toward somewhere beyond the room, as if Hannah is standing in the hallway wearing her glasses and fuzzy socks.
I sit on the edge of the bed.
“This is exactly why we don’t work.”
Her face changes.
“Because I know I’m hot?”
“Because everything becomes a ranking.”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
“Maybe.”
I stand and pull on sweatpants over the pajama bottoms, needing another layer between us. “You wanted this casual.”
“I changed my mind. I want a label.”
“I don’t.”
“Until Stella became unavailable and you needed a new obsession.”
“Hannah has nothing to do with Stella.”
“She has everything to do with Stella. You can’t stand losing, so now you’re chasing the first girl who isn’t impressed.”
“That’s not what this is.”
I stare at her.
She knows too much.
Not because she cares about me.
Because everyone is watching.
Every choice becomes gossip before I understand it myself.
Hannah was right to leave the arena early.
Krista slides off the bed and reaches for her clothes scattered near the door.
“You really think she doesn’t want something?”
“She doesn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She avoided me for months.”
“That’s strategy.”
“She gave me a fake name so I couldn’t find her.”
“Better strategy.”