Relying On Ben and Jerry (Waltham #1)

Chapter Thirty: Surprise!

The moment I stormed into the cafeteria at lunchtime on Monday, I stalked over to Quinton and grabbed him by the collar, ignoring his cry of surprise as I forcefully dragged him over to my usual lunch table, where my friends were all in their seats sniggering at the sight of the girl wearing a rainbow dragging along an attractive young fellow. I stopped when we reached the table and Quinton straightened up slowly, turning to face me with a sheepish smile.

“So,” he said slowly, “you’ve met Alyssa.”

“What kind of favor was that?” I demanded, scowling at him. “First, she dumped syrup on me, and then lured me into the kitchen by holding a gigantic knife, and when I was distracted she tipped over a bucket of honey and freaking feathers all over me, and—oh, did I mentioned that she then proceeded to set the kitchen on fire?”

Quinton winced. “Yup, that definitely sounds like Alyssa.”

“Thanks for the warning label!” I told him, throwing my hands up. “I didn’t realize I was going to be dealing with an evil genius!”

“I didn’t know if she would like you or not,” Quinton argued, grimacing sheepishly and looking sorry, but I wasn’t quite in the mood for apologies right now. Not when my hair still smelled like Miss Butterworth’s. “And don’t worry about the fire thing—she did the same thing to me, too, only on the stairs. When I was on the second story.”

“There is seriously something wrong with that girl,” I muttered.

“She’s kind of cute when she likes you,” he informed me. “Devious, but adorable.”

“The next time you ask me to do you a solid, I’m saying no,” I told him outright, and he laughed once before he nodded, grinning.

“I had a feeling that would be your reaction,” he told me, smiling easily. “No problem—next on my list of people to cover for me is Mathieu, and I would definitely pay to see the look on his face when he sees Alyssa holding a knife.”

“I understand why people call her Jack,” I said pensively.

“It’s nothing but true,” he announced solemnly, shaking his head.

I sighed, the fight slowly draining out of me with his constant amiability. “You wanna sit over here or would you like to go back to hearing your friends tease you about getting dragged away like a prissy little girl?”

“I’d rather be here,” he told me automatically, taking absolutely no time in sliding onto the bench before me, taking the spot besides a gleefully observing Kline. He glanced around at our amused onlookers before rolling his eyes. “My friends are relentless.”

“I bet they are,” Colonel drawled slowly, narrowing his eyes. Norma scoffed before initiating a conversation with him, immediately and effectively distracting him. I looked back to Quinton, making a face, but he just shrugged in response. I had a feeling that today was still not going to be the day that I figured out what was going on between the two of them.

If I didn’t find out in a couple of weeks, I was going to chalk it up to a lover’s quarrel, which would creep me out but would probably convince them to at least tell me.

I just want to know.

“Well, my friends are kind of relentless, too,” I told him and he smiled, shrugging casually and leaning back slightly, hooking his feet against one of the bars underneath of the table, crossing his arms over his chest. I quickly looked over his faded blue jeans and his navy blue button down before closing my eyes and trying not to swoon. “Especially since half of them hate you.”

“Hey, I don’t hate him,” Kline announced, shooting Quinton a smile. Peter snorted.

“I do,” he told him simply. Quinton didn’t even blink.