Being so close to Mr. Prewett was killing her. She bit her lower lip and glanced towards him while he looked over her notes. Foolishly, she believed that he'd be so impressed by her vast knowledge of Quidditch. She had fantasized about them discussing complex Quidditch strategy, in some office setting, as they drank whiskey since Miss Jones said that was his drink of choice and she wanted to be a cool girl.
Then, his comment brought those dreams crashing down.
She hadn't expected this reaction. She'd expected for him to see her notes about the Morrocan gameplay, be impressed by her knowledge, and for them to discuss that.
Unable to keep the disappointment from her expression, Cee asked: "What sort of plans would be more important than a Cannons' game?" She'd tried to make it sound light-hearted, like a joke, but her tone had sounded lukewarm at best.
She closed her notebook and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Then, his comment brought those dreams crashing down.
She hadn't expected this reaction. She'd expected for him to see her notes about the Morrocan gameplay, be impressed by her knowledge, and for them to discuss that.
Unable to keep the disappointment from her expression, Cee asked: "What sort of plans would be more important than a Cannons' game?" She'd tried to make it sound light-hearted, like a joke, but her tone had sounded lukewarm at best.
She closed her notebook and crossed her arms in front of her chest.