Hannah

Everyone assumes I despise reading. Maybe its the fact that I gossip over boys at the lunch table and act like the school library is a torture chamber. Actually, I adore reading. I read before school, after school, and long into the night when I can. I love the feeling of escaping reality - even if it's only for an hour or so. I'm willing to wait in long lines to get the next book in a series and I'd rather walk through fire than mess up a library book.

My bestf friend Josie Berkeley hates reading, so I usually don't talk about my obsession around her. Honestly, I've started seriously questioning my friendship with Josie. For one, we're polar opposites - she's super outgoing and does dance, cheer, and gymnastics. I, on the other hand, am more studious, and I'd skip a party to curl up with a good book. I don't play sports, unless the piano and violin count as a physical workout. If our moms weren't BFFs when they were our age and had basically forced us to be besties too, I doubt Josie and I would be anything more than casual acquaintances.

"Hannah!" my mom calls. "Put your book away, let's go! We have to be at Josie's in ten minutes for book club!"

I sigh - I was at a really good part in The Secret Garden. I throw on a pair of tennis shoes that twin with Josie's pair and take my wavy blonde hair out of its messy ponytail. One last look in the mirror tells me I'm good to go. I bounce down the stairs like a six year old, but I don't care. I've been wanting to be in a book club forever.

"Look at you, ladies," Dad smiles. He's wrapped up in a book too. Jack, my nine year old little brother, is eating a bowl of ice cream. "Are you excited?"

I shrug, and my mom squeezes my shoulder. "It'll be fun, sweetheart."

"It'll be fun, sweetheart!" Jack mimics with a high pitched voice that sends ice cream flying out of his mouth.

"Say it, don't spray it," I snap, disgusted. Boys. Josie's got a huge crush on Anthony Peters and they're basically dating. Me? Boys are gross.

"Well, we'd better get going," Mom says, looking at her watch.

I nod and follow her out the door. We don't say much on the ride to Josie's, but I hum along to the radio happily. We show up at ten minutes to two o'clock, and Josie immediately answers the door.

"Come on," she says, dragging Mom and me inside. "Let's go hide in my room."

I sigh and follow her. Mom never actually told me who was going to be here - besides Josie, of course - and I'm suddenly worried. Who the heck did they invite that makes Josie want to hide?

The doorbell rings as we're going upstairs. It's Mrs. Hawthorne and her daughter - what's her name?

"Do you girls know each other?" Mom asks, putting her hand on the girl's shoulder. Crap! What is her name?

"Sorta," Josie lies. "We don't have a lot of classes together."

"Same here," I echo, and the moms nod understandingly.

"Josie, why don't you show Naomi your room?" Mrs. Berkeley smiles with that you-don't-have-a-choice look. My best friend sighs heavily and trudges upstairs, dragging Naomi and me with her. We stand around in the bedroom awkwardly because none of us know what to say. Every time I open my mouth, a little voice in my head stops me.

"Girls! Time to get started!" Mrs. Berkeley calls.

"Why are we hiding in your room?" I whisper to Josie as we head downstairs, but she doesn't answer.

When the three of us walk into the living room, I notice two more families have arrived: Josie's aunt and cousin, Mrs. Berkeley and her daughter - Cammi. Cammi just moved here from England in the middle of 5th grade and has lived in the U.K her entire life. She plays soccer (sorry, football) and every ice sport in existence.

I stop dead in my tracks when I see Aunt Emma. Her daughter Phoebe is standing next to her, and my face turns beet red. We hate talking about Emma and Phoebe or the divorce at all. Uncle Stewart showed up on our door step one night when I was four, saying he'd made a stupid decision (actually, he used a much worse word than "stupid"). He didn't explain why for several weeks before opening up and then hiding out in our basement. Uncle Stewart served as the poster child to what a messy marriage can look like. Aunt Emma had moved away too - Seattle. She'd gotten custody of their daughter and stormed out. We never heard from any fo them again. Yet here they are, sitting on Josie's couch. I sit down next to my mom and flash her a confused look.

"Alright, girls," Mrs. Hawthorne says. "We've been waiting a long time to do this with you. I don't know about the rest of your moms, but Mother-Daughter Book Club was one of the best things that happened to me. I met these four incredible girls, and we want you girls to have that same kind of friendship. So, on to the discussion of our book. We thought it would be great to start with what we started with, Little Women!"

Naomi groans. "That book is so old, Mom!"

"Well, it was old when we read it, sweetie," Mrs. Hawthorne replies, smiling.

"But it's even older now, and you guys have already read it!" Naomi counters.

Mrs. Hawthorne bites her lip. "She's got a point."

"Can we read something else?" Josie asks.

"Josie!" her mom reproofs lightly. "Manners!"

My best friend rolls her eyes. Even though we're squished together on the couch, I do my best to slide a little away from her.

"How about Dragon's Blood?" the British Mrs. Berkeley suggests, and her daughter perks up.

"Ooo! That sounds like a fun one!" my mom exclaims. "Don't you think, Hannah?"

I shrug. "I've already read it."

"What a reader!" Mrs. Hawthorne responds, impressed. "Well, there are other books we could read."

Ideas float around for several minutes, but no one can seem to agree. A Wrinkle in Time. Twenty-One Balloons. Julie of the Wolves. The Swiss Family Robinson. Doctor Doolittle. All of them are either too advanced, too babyish, are already required at school, or one of us has already read it. Everyone is silent for a while, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. But eventually, Mrs. Hawthorne comes up with the perfect idea.

"What about Around the World in Eighty Days?" she suggests. "I remember reading that in 6th grade."

All the moms smile happily.

"Perfect," Mom answers, and everyone nods in agreement. Well, everyone exceot Josie. She's pulled out her phone and is texting me. My phone buzzes angrily in my pocket. I want to lean over and shush her, but something stops me. I sigh and turn my attention to the schedule my mom is passing out.

"We'll meet every Sunday afternoon at someone's house," Mom says. "Read chapters one through four, and we'll discuss them next week."

Everyone nods, and the American Mrs. Berkeley heads to the kitchen.

"With no Kimball Farm, we had to make do with regular ice cream," she sighs, opening a half gallon of strawberry ice cream.

"What's Kimball Farm?" Naomi asks.

"An old ice cream shop," her mother explains. "It closed when you were about two. We used to kick off our book club every year with ice cream from Kimball Farm."

"Oh. Well, this looks delicious. Thank you, Mrs. Berkeley."

"Goody two shoes," Josie whispers. I sigh helplessly. Josie can be a real brat sometimes.

"Let's go eat in my room," Josie says, grabbing my hand. I turn around to walk with the other girls when I realize Josie was only inviting me.

"What about Naomi and Cammi and Phoebe?" I ask, slightly angry.

"Book club's over," she shrugs. I open my mouth to argue, but my mom does the talking instead.

"Hannah, did you ask the other girls if they would like to join you two?"

"Do you want to come with us?" I ask the others. Naomi stands up and Cammi follows her, but Phoebe shakes her head. I smile anyway and lead them upstairs.

"So, how do you guys like Walden so far?" I ask, praying this will break the ice.

"The sports are great," Cammi answers. "Everything else, not so much."

"I like it a lot," Naomi adds. "The music program is way better than Emerson."

I nod in agreement. I love our orchestra teacher, Mr. Malone. He makes it so much fun, and for once I'm actually excited to perform in front of everyone at our fall concert.

"It's fun," Josie shrugs. "I can't wait for high school though."

That's because in high school, Josie is finally allowed to date. I sigh.

"I'm glad Mum taught me how to play baseball," Cammi adds. "If I work hard, Coach says I'll make the team."

"That's so cool!" Naomi smiles encouragingly.

We dive back in to awkward silence as we eat our ice cream. Josie pulls out her phone, Naomi starts looking around the room, and Cammi is standing up to leave. I sigh. What fun this is going to be.

"Hi," a voice says. I turn around, and Phoebe is standing in the threshold.

"Hey Phoebe!" Naomi smiles. "Come on in."

Phoebe sits down next to her cousin, and they start talking about things I don't understand. It feels like a million years later when Mrs. Hawthorne knocks on the door.

"Naomi? Phoebe? Time to head out." She examines the rest of us. "Did you girls manage to break the ice?"

Cammi slaps on a grin and nods, and I do the same. Mrs. Hawthorne seems satisfied with that answer, and they leave. Josie scoots over to me and shows me a really stupid picture she saw on Instagram. I'm still laughing when Mom comes in and tells me it's time to go.

"See ya," Josie says, flopping onto her bed.

"Bye," I manage.

"Well," Mom says, placing her hands at two o'clock and ten o'clock as I crank up the volume on the radio. "What do you think?"

I shrug. "The girls are okay. I'm excited to read our book, though."

"You're all from different friend groups. It's going to take some time for you to warm up to each other."

"Besides Josie and I," I add.

"About that," Mom exhales. "I don't want you two becoming exclusive, okay? I've notice you ignoring other people when Josie's around."

I open my mouth to explain everything to her, to tell her how I feel about Josie - but I bite my lip instead. "Okay. I'll keep that in mind."

Mom squeezes my arm and hums along to the radio. I look absentmindedly out the window. This whole book club thing isn't as great as I thought. In fact, it's going to be a disaster.

Apologies for that crappy chapter. A new one should be out soon though.