“And mine.” Pecan sticks out his chest like bagging Callan is a win.
I roll my eyes. “We’re both dumb.”
Wynter snickers. “Hardly. You got into Oakwood somehow.”
“Somehow being the operative word,” I mock. “You want me to ask him out for you or something?”
Her mouth parts. “Oh! No! I mean, he’s cute, sure, but, like, no, I don’t, I mean—” She facepalms. “Can I start that again?”
With a laugh, I chortle, “Sure thing.”
“I need help with French.”
“Does he speak it?” Pecan drags a bacon strip through a pool of ketchup. “I don’t think he does. Just because he’s Canadian doesn't mean he speaks French, Wynter.”
“I didn’t?—”
“Zach’s Canadian. He doesn’t speak French.”
“He should,” I insert. “His mom wanted him to.”
“He lived in Florida his whole life. Well, most of it,” Pecan reasons. “And the closest you get to French stuff in Florida are fries and Quebeckers.”
Wynter clears her throat. “He’s actually in French class with me. That’s why I’m asking. Not because he’s, you know, Canadian.”
Pecan angles his water glass at her. “That makes sense.”
“I’m glad something about this conversation does,” she grumbles.
“I’ll ask him if he can help you out, Wynter.” I take control of the conversation before Pecan can derail things further. “Mostly we just hang out at the library. You’re welcome to join us if you want?”
“I hate the library.” Pecan moans.
I flick him on the forehead. “Shut up. You have the attention span of a pickle. You need the library so you don’t flunk.”
When Victoria, from philosophy, and her friend hover behind Wynter, she peers over her shoulder. “Hey, Victoria! Hiya, Shay! Denny, guys, this is Victoria Vasov and Seamus O’Donnelly.”
Victoria waves at us but, to Wynter, says, “We’re just grabbing something to eat. Wanna join us? We can talk about that paper in commercial law we have to hand in this week.”
“Denny, do you mind?”
“‘Course not. Please, spare me from a discussion on commercial law,” I joke.
With Lexi working and Wynter sitting in another booth, I’m left with the team, who arealltalking smack.
“Mason, Juniper told me you were sniffing around her,” Gregg jeers, making his eyebrows bob like two roaches stuck to his forehead.
Never let it be said that guys don’t gossip about the good shit. It’s just different to what girls discuss.
“Juniper Carson?” I sputter, then lower my voice because she’s on shift at the diner today. “I thought she was gayanddating.”
“I thought so too,” Pecan agrees.
Mason blushes and fidgets with the chain around his neck. “Do we have to talk about this?”
“We do now,” Joker jibes with a laugh.
“Hang on, don’t you have a thing for Charleston Hunter?”
