Make My Move (Hannaford Prep #5) - J. Bree Page 0,104

shower is already running, the sounds of the lock turning like a gunshot through the room.

Ash moves to the kitchen like he’s going for the bourbon but then remembers it’s seven in the morning and even a Beaumont shouldn’t show up to class half cut, so instead we all just stand around, twitching and fidgeting like crackheads.

Our attention snaps back to the bathroom when the door cracks open an inch, Avery’s head poking out of the tiny crack with another haughty look.

“We’ll meet you guys down at the dining hall.”

I shake my head. “We’re here to walk you guys down; we’ll wait.”

Her eyes narrow at me. “No, we’re fine.”

Ash shrugs at her. “We’re already here, we might as well wait for you both just in case Joey tries something.”

Avery huffs at him and snaps, “Ash, I have cramps and I need a minute to get myself together and I’d rather not have you lot out there listening to me change out tampons.”

Blaise startles like a fucking idiot, like he’s forced himself to forget that Avery is in fact female and gets periods. “Fuck, saying you need a minute is more than enough information.”

Ash and I both roll our eyes at him and Avery smiles at him with that fake, poisonous sweetness she’s perfected. “Well, if you listened to me the first time I wouldn’t have to supply you with the details.”

Blaise and Ash both start toward the door, but I’m not leaving so fucking easily. “I need to talk to Lips.”

“No, Lips is still getting dressed.”

I roll my eyes back at her. “What, she’s just going to stand around watching you switch out tampons? For fuck’s sake, Floss, let her out of there!”

“We’re girls, she isn’t worried about my period, she has her own to deal with. Bye!” She’s a little too fucking gleeful as she snaps the door shut, and I have no choice but to follow the other two down to the dining hall.

“You have until midnight tonight. That’s it. Not a second longer.”

I roll my eyes at Morrison’s bullshit as we move along the food line, staring down a couple of the seniors glancing back at us like we’re so fucking fascinating.

“I don’t need until midnight—“

“I’m not giving him until midnight. Like Avery said, dibs is bullshit. If Avery hasn’t already, we’ll all tell her and she can decide.” Ash cuts in and fills a plate up with piles of eggs and bacon. I do the same without another word because… well, there’s nothing left to say.

It’s up to Lips now.

We take our seats right as Avery’s text comes through. We’re headed down now. Lips is still feeling shit, don’t be inconsiderate assholes and pant all over her while she’s not okay.

Ash’s jaw tightens as he reads it and then murmurs, “Whoever broke her leg, they’re on the planner. I don’t give a fuck who she chooses; I’m killing whoever hurt her like that.”

Only if he gets to them first.

When the girls arrive, Avery has to coax Lips into taking food, another sign she’s not okay, and I have to force myself to keep my mouth shut. Morrison watches her like she’s a miracle walking among us, all of his attempts at hiding his obsession gone now, and even Ash stares at her in his own twisted version of wonder. I wait until the last second before I look up at her, only because I’m sure I’m staring at her just as obsessively, and Avery shuts us all down pretty fucking quickly.

The second they reach the table, she slams their tray down with more force than necessary as they both take their seats and snaps, “Don’t start. Lips can’t eat when she’s stressed.”

Lips cringes and nudges her plate away from herself a little, and Morrison, the asshole extraordinaire, drawls, “If Harley is bothering you—“

Avery cuts Blaise off, hissing, “I said, don’t start,” as I elbow him in the gut to shut him the fuck up. Ash just watches it all play out without a word, letting us all dig our own graves.

“I’m never going to eat again. Goodbye boobs, it was nice having you,” Lips mutters, and Avery cackles at her dramatics.

“That will shut them up! The boobs are in danger.”

Fuck that.

I snort and shove her plate of French toast back in front of her. “Save the boobs, Mounty.”

Her cheeks flush as she picks up her fork, digging in as we all laugh, the tension finally ebbing away a little. She focuses entirely on her food, eating