Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

He took a seat on the other side of the deck. Bridget
dug into her lasagna. She was starving. She loved institutional
food served in big quantities. She was weird
that way.
“He probably has a girlfriend in New York,” a girl
named Rosie said.
“We’ll see about that,” Bridget said provocatively.
Diana shoved her elbow. “Bridget, you’re insane.”
Emily was shaking her head. “Give it up. You’ll get in
huge trouble.”
“Who’s gonna tell?” Bridget asked.
Diana put on her Sigmund Freud expression. “Anyway,
getting in trouble is kind of the point, isn’t it?”
“Of course it’s not the point,” Bridget said snappishly.
“Have you taken one look at the guy?”
She stood up and walked to the buffet table to get another
helping of lasagna. She took a circuitous route in order to
pass Eric. She knew her friends would be watching.
She stopped right behind him. She waited for a pause
in the conversation he was having with Marci, his assistant
coach. She leaned over. The place was noisy, so it
was perfectly understandable that she should lean close
to his ear. A curtain of her hair fell forward as she leaned,
brushing his shoulder. “What time is the scrimmage?” she
asked.
He hardly dared turn his head. “Ten.”
She was making him nervous. “Okay. Thanks.” She
stood back up straight. “We’ll kill y’all.”
Now he turned to look at her, surprised and almost
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