Four Of A Kind

Chapter 269: [4.87] She Wasn’t Jealous

The drive to Hartwell took forty-seven minutes because Vivienne insisted on a specific route that avoided construction on the expressway, and also because Sarah would not stop talking.

"So the cafe opens at eleven, right? And you’re serving themed drinks? Do you have a menu? Can I see the menu? Does the menu have illustrations? Because if it doesn’t have illustrations, that’s a missed opportunity. Harlow, you should draw the menu. You’re artistic. I can tell because your costume has hand-stitched bat wings on the headband, and nobody mass-produces bat wings with that level of anatomical accuracy."

Harlow turned around from the passenger seat of the Range Rover, beaming. "I actually did design the menu! It has little coffins next to each drink name!"

"I knew it! I knew you were a kindred spirit the second I saw your hair clips!"

I drove. Vivienne sat behind me reviewing her tablet. Sabrina read a book with her boots propped against the back of my seat. Cassidy sat in the far back with her arms crossed, staring out the window with an expression that suggested she was mentally composing a list of people she wanted to fight today. Iris and Sarah occupied the middle row, generating enough noise for twelve people.

"Isaiah." Vivienne’s voice came from directly behind my right ear. "You missed the turn."

"I didn’t miss the turn."

"The GPS indicates you should have turned on Maple."

"The GPS doesn’t know about the construction on Maple. I’m taking Cedar."

"Cedar adds four minutes."

"Cedar doesn’t add four minutes. It adds two minutes and saves us from sitting behind a cement mixer for twenty."

A beat of silence. Then: "Acceptable."

Sabrina turned a page. "He’s right. Maple has been under construction since Thursday. The school sent an email."

Vivienne’s tablet tapping paused. "I didn’t receive that email."

"You archived it. I watched you archive it at 6:47 AM because the subject line contained an emoji and you consider emojis unprofessional in official communications."

I glanced in the rearview mirror. Vivienne’s jaw had gone tight in a way that meant she knew Sabrina was correct and absolutely hated it. Sabrina continued reading without looking up, the ghost of a smile pulling at her lips.

"Can we talk about the important stuff?" Cassidy’s voice came from the far back, sharp enough to slice through the noise. "Like the fact that Patterson sent seventeen texts to the class group chat last night about booth placement? He wants us in the centre of the gym. Centre. The man is treating this like D-Day."

"He wants the trophy," I said.

"He wants validation for twenty-three years of teaching high school history to teenagers who don’t care about the Peloponnesian War." Cassidy kicked the back of Sabrina’s seat. "Move your boots. I can’t feel my legs."

Sabrina did not move her boots. "Your legs are fine. You ran six miles this morning."

"How do you know I ran six miles?"

"Your Strava is public."

"My Strava is not public."

"It became public when you accepted Harlow’s follow request and Harlow’s account is linked to mine through our shared family fitness plan."

Cassidy processed this information for approximately two seconds. "Harlow, I’m going to kill you."

"What did I do?" Harlow twisted around again, her bat-wing headband wobbling. "I just wanted to cheer for your runs! I leave encouraging comments!"

"You left a comment that said ’go Cass go, you’re a speedy queen’ with fourteen heart emojis on a run I did at five in the morning."

"Because you are a speedy queen!"

"I will crash this car," I announced.

Everyone went quiet for about three seconds. I considered framing the moment in time, preserving it as evidence that silence could exist in this car.

Sarah shattered it by leaning forward between the seats and asking Sabrina what book she was reading. Sabrina lifted the cover just enough for Sarah to see.

Whatever title was printed there made Sarah release a sound I can only describe as a pterodactyl discovering its favourite brand of fish had gone on sale.

Something in Japanese tumbled out of Sabrina’s mouth in response—I caught maybe two words I recognised from anime—and Sarah grabbed her shoulder and shook her while making more prehistoric noises.

The noise level returned to its previous catastrophic volume. I pressed the accelerator a little harder.

We pulled into Hartwell’s east lot at 7:26 AM. Four minutes ahead of Vivienne’s projected arrival time.

I knew without looking that she would mentally attribute this margin to her superior route planning rather than my willingness to treat yellow lights as suggestions.

The parking lot already held a dozen cars scattered across the spaces, most of them belonging to the setup crew. Felix’s white Range Rover sat at a characteristically offensive angle across two spots near the entrance. I could practically hear him defending it as "efficiency" if anyone called him out.

The gymnasium doors stood propped open with what looked like chemistry textbooks. From somewhere inside the building came the sound of someone arguing about extension cords.

Patterson’s voice carried across the asphalt with that specific combination of exhaustion and rage that only a man who has spent two decades teaching teenagers about wars they don’t care about can produce. He was yelling something about voltage limits and fire codes. freewebnoveℓ.com

I killed the engine and turned around in my seat.

"Alright." I let the word hang in the air for a second. "Rules for the day."

Four identical faces looked at me from various positions in the vehicle. Two additional faces that were not identical also looked at me. Six pairs of eyes. All waiting. frёewebηovel.cѳm

"Rule one. No fighting in front of customers."

Cassidy tilted her head. "Define fighting."

"Physical violence, verbal destruction, or passive-aggressive commentary that makes someone cry."

"That eliminates ninety percent of my personality."

"I’m aware. Rule two. Nobody disappears with anyone into supply closets, empty classrooms, or behind the backdrop panels."

Harlow’s cheeks went pink. The blush spread down her neck and disappeared under the collar of her shirt. "That’s oddly specific."

"It’s specific because I know all of you." I looked at each of them in turn. "And I know how festivals go."

Vivienne cleared her throat. The sound was precise and delicate and somehow still managed to convey judgment. "I would never disappear into a supply closet. Supply closets are unhygienic and poorly ventilated."