This Gorgeous Game by Donna Freitas Read Free Book Online Page B

glare of the sun as it swings back and forth. He turns to Ash and Jada, who’ve gone silent. “Nice to meet you both. I’ll be back in just a sec. Olivia, my treat. What would you like?”
    “A small dish of the hazelnut, please.”
    “Do you girls want anything?”
    “No thanks,” Ash and Jada both say, and I glare at them for not accepting his friendly offer. Kick them under the table.
    “It’s the least I can do,” he insists, pulling out his wallet.
    “I’ll try the coconut. Just one scoop, though,” Ash relents, and I give her a look of gratitude. “Sugar cone, please,” she adds.
    “Me, too,” Jada says, coming around. “Same.”
    “Good. Would you mind finding me a chair?”
    I nod yes and drag one over from an empty table as Father Mark places everyone’s orders at the counter.
    “Olivia,” Jada hisses, “why did you have to invite him to join us? It’s awkward.”
    Ash looks more resigned than annoyed.
    “Be nice. Please. This is important to me. Besides, he’s nice. You’ll see.”
    “You know he
is
pretty good-looking,” Ash says. “For someone my dad’s age.”
    “Can we not do this again?”
    “Yeah, sorry. Just telling you what my eyes are telling me.”
    I shift in my seat. Avoid staring into anyone’s eyes.
    Father Mark has to make two trips between the table and the counter. He brushes off our attempts to help, wanting to take care of everything himself, which is sweet. After asking Ash and Jada the basics, like have they lived in Boston all their lives, do they enjoy school at Sacred Heart, and what’s their favorite subject, he asks them if they’ve read “The Girl in the Garden.”
    “Actually, yes we have,” Ash says.
    “You made an excellent choice,” Jada informs him.
    Father Mark smiles like a proud parent. “As soon as I finished it, I said to myself: this is it. This is the one!”
    “Well, we think Olivia is pretty great, too.” Ash grins, enjoying my embarrassment for the second time in a single hour.
    “Yeah, we could tell you stories about Olivia.”
    “Like what? I’m curious.” Father Mark leans toward Jada, eager to hear what she might reveal.
    “Jada…
don’t
,” I warn.
    “Like that Olivia has been valedictorian since practically our first day of high school.”
    “And honors night is like, the Olivia Peters show every year.”
    “Ash …”
    They go back and forth, ignoring my plea, trading humiliating trivia about me to Father Mark who smiles and laughs over each new detail. If I wasn’t so happy about everyone getting along, if I wasn’t still aglow about Jamie getting my number and e-mail, I might mind even more, but I can tell this is my friends’ way of getting comfortable around Father Mark, so I blush and bear it.
    After a good ten minutes, though, I cut in, saying, “Okay, time’s up. You two are worse than my mom.”
    Then, as if just remembering where he is, Father Mark jumps up from his chair. “You all have been so delightful, I almost forgot I was on my way to the university. I’ve got a To Do list a mile long,” he says, looking at me. “I should dash.”
    “It’s okay,” I say. “Thanks for the ice cream.”
    “Nice to meet you,” Ash says with sincerity as he gathers his things and smiles at each one of us before heading toward the door.
    “Olivia,” he says, holding it propped open, “we’ll plan another get-together soon. If I don’t run into you again first, of course,” he adds with a laugh, and then he is gone.
    This time, I don’t doubt it.

ON SURPRISES
    OVER THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS, FATHER MARK BEGINS to schedule regular appointments to discuss the writing life, my story, revisions, no longer leaving any of our get-togethers to chance, and I am elated. One evening, after our fifth meeting—this one at a coffee shop—when I walk in the house, my mother is zipping around the kitchen and we are both so distracted we almost crash into each other. She has three pots going on the stove top, an