“It’s hard!”
“It’s not. You just don’t apply yourself.”
Zach chortles. “That’s the story of your life, Pecan.”
“We’ll hit the books after breakfast so you can finish the damn essay and?—”
Pecan jerks upright. “You want me to go to the library on a SATURDAY?”
He totally shrieks because, of course, he forgot why we’re meeting up for breakfast this morning.
“I do. You’ll party tonight?—”
“He better not get drunk or I’ll feed him a knuckle sandwich,” Zach inserts coolly.
“—and knowing you, there’ll be another post-celly party tomorrow night too?—”
“I appreciate the confidence in my skills,” Pecan preens.
“—and you’ll procrastinate Monday which means I’ll get an emergency email at 11 PM again.”
“That’s it, Callan, give him boundaries,” I bait.
Pecan shoots me a wounded look. “Hey, D and I were thinking… about covering you for tutoring us.”
Callan chokes out a laugh. “It’s fine. If you pay me, I can’t give you shit.”
I snort. “Sure you can. But if you’re certain…?”
“Oh, I’m certain. If he paid me, he’d justify mayday emails the night before assignments are due. Thanks for offering though!” Reaching for his glass, he takes a sip of water and then, rather deservedly, showers Peeks in it.
Gleefully, I waggle my coffee cup at him. “That’s what you get for applying yourself to pranks and not work.”
Callan gapes at him. “You put salt in my water?”
“It’s a thing,” I assure him.
“Don’t you have brothers?” Zach toys with a packet of sugar.
Confused, I ask, “How do you know that?”
“Pecan told me.”
Callan’s still doing a great impression of Nemo. “Why would you dose my drink with salt?”
Pecan pouts. “Glad I did now you’re making me go to the library on the weekend.”
I pass Callan my water and ignore Pecan. “Because he’s a toddler. We were always going to the library, Peeks. You have the memory of a sieve.”
“I’d have thought your brothers would have pulled that prank.” Zach sips his coffee.
“My brothers are a lot older and they baby me.” Still looking bewildered by the prank, he runs a paper towel over his tongue.
“It’s a sign of affection.” When his eyes bug out, I pat his arm while Juniper drops off our orders. “Honestly.”
Zach whistles as he douses his bacon in maple syrup. Pecan, still patting himself down, notices and beams at him.
“You broke the dry spell, huh?”
