A crime-mystery lover Rhett Carver only wants two things in his life: first, to be taken seriously as a young detective, and second, to get rid of his never-ending bad luck that always gets in the way of reaching the first thing. Those goals bring h...
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Rhett
Ah, the smell of victory. Though I was hoping it was more than coffee beans and undercooked pies.
Max didn't stop thanking me for finding the real thief. He came to my dorm and told me that Maxine's suspension was cut short. He couldn't even hide his happiness as he wrapped his big arms around me and hugged me tightly. I demanded him to let me go immediately, not because I was struggling for air, but because the guys in my dorm started to whistle.
As another thank you, he generously paid me with a hundred dollars bill. My first paycheck! I felt sorry for mistaking him to be working with the not-so-thief. But if I confessed now, he might want his Franklin back, which I already spent it for an affordable tracking device and a little coffee treat at The Paste.
"Sure you don't want your usual order, Little Girl?" Kyle Jackson, my fellow architecture student, who was also the barista here, teased me as I ordered a cappuccino float.
"I've had enough smoothies. I'm starting to think it's bad for my stomach," I replied as I rubbed my shirt-covered belly.
Kyle used his skillful hands to handle the coffee machine. I always adored this guy because he could keep up with the deadly assignments while working a part-time job here. He was on a scholarship and got into Bensworth through the early admission, hence the job and the youthful look. He quickly reminded me of someone who helped me solved the case two days ago.
"So, congratulations on catching the pharmacy robber. I didn't even know there was a robbery," he said.
"The campus didn't want to make the big deal out of it. They thought they could handle it by suspending Max's sister," I mumbled. "But remember, only few people know about this."
"I'm honored to be one of them," he whispered. Of course, I would never hide anything from my best friend. "Too bad the others can't know. You could've had a chance to repair your reputation after getting your feet covered in poops."
I sighed. Everyone I know, from the dorm and architecture classes, always brought that incident up like it was an amazing history. I didn't need a reminder of that because I remembered every second of it. "It was only one foot, and wasn't really my foot. It was my newly bought Jordans. The poor shoe hadn't even experienced the whole campus."
"I will never wear mine when passing that path again," joked Kyle as he put a straw on my float and put it on the counter. "One cappuccino float for Detective Carver."
I was flattered, but was also overwhelmed. "I wish," I chuckled. That was my little dream when I was a child. Growing up with Dad's crime novels collection, I had always wanted to work in such field. But my artist Mom's DNA turned out to be dominating inside me, as I chose to go to architecture school. It was all fine, until the poop and Professor Pine conspired together to crushed me down. Although I found this new hobby, I was still stuck with pencils and papers here, and maybe some caffeine too.
