The grin is wiped clean from my face as I whip my gaze to the laptop. “What?”

Proud is an understatement for how Marina beams at me. She repeats, “I found the girl from the gas station.” This time, it sounds a lot more like a question than a statement. Tapping the screen, she leans in closer to see the picture. “Right here. Lark Summerlin. Senior. I found her for you.”

“What do you mean for me?” I ask, feeling the heat of not only Marina but also my mother’s and Noah’s eyes on me.

“You seemed to be really into her from what I witnessed, so I thought I would do some matchmaking.”

“What do you mean by matchmaking?”

The soup is forgotten when my mom comes around the island to see the photo on the screen. Since the laptop is smaller, they all lean in closer while I plan my escape route.

Mom smiles at me and then turns her attention back to the webpage. “She’s one of our scholarship recipients.” Her hands clasp together against her chest. “This is exciting, Harbor. She must be a stellar student to receive a full ride like she did.”

Not that I believe they’ve done anything intentionally malicious, but I stand, uncomfortable about this topic of conversation without Lark being here. I don’t think it’s right to be discussing her finances behind her back.

She grew up on the skirts of downtown and works her ass off at her job. It’s not difficult to piece together that she doesn’t come from money.

Leaning in again, my mom squints her eyes at the screen. “Lark . . .” She stands up and returns to the stove to turn it off. “She was the lovely girl from Larry’s catering company.” Humming cheerfully as she stirs the pot, she stops, and adds, “That’s why I love supporting the scholarship organization. It’s good to know the fundraising is helping. You met her at a gas station, Harbor?”

“I did.” I hate this attention, not sure if Lark and I are ready to share our new relationship with the world. Or even family. Glancing at her poised photo on the screen, I can’t help but admire her again, but now I know that her beauty is inside and out. “You know, we can talk about other stuff like the game that was on or how nice the weather is this fall.”

Noah hits my arm and laughs. “Nah, we’re good. Tell us more, Harb.” I hate when he calls me that. He does it purposely to annoy me, and it’s working. But it also has me wondering if she’s telling her dad about us.

After spending the morning together, Lark went to the library to study. I went home, but I probably should have studied like she did. I watched football and ordered a pizza instead. It was the third quarter when Mom texted me asking to come for dinner. The text I usually say no to most of the time came as an opening, an invitation, but I was ready to accept.