Four Of A Kind

Chapter 101: [3.3] A Kiss, a Rumor, and a Mandatory Group Project from Hell

I stared at my desk with a level of exhaustion that can only be achieved through extensive practice. Monday morning, 7:53 AM, seven minutes before homeroom starts.

My head rested against the cool laminate surface while my brain ran on emergency power only.

“Dude. Are you alive?” Felix’s voice hovered somewhere above me.

I made a noncommittal sound that could have been interpreted as anything from “yes” to “please let me die in peace.”

“Long weekend or something?” Felix pressed, his voice carrying that particular tone of someone who smells gossip. I could hear the rustling of his contraband chip bag.

“You look worse than that time you worked a double shift at the Velvet Room and then came straight to school for finals.”

“You could say that,” I mumbled into the desk.

The truth was, I hadn’t slept. At all. Iris had extracted every detail about The Kiss.

Then I spent the night staring at the ceiling. Scenarios. Theories. Outcomes. By sunrise, my brain was scrambled eggs

“Dude, seriously. What happened? You’re starting to freak me out.”

I lifted my head an inch. “Nothing happened.”

“Uh-huh.” Felix stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth. “That’s why you look like someone ran you through a car wash without the car.”

The classroom door opened, and my survival instincts forced me to look up. Harlow bounced in first, her pink-tipped hair swinging in twin tails secured with ribbons that matched her uniform.

She scanned the room, spotted me, and her entire face lit up like someone had flipped a switch. Her hand shot up in an enthusiastic wave that involved her entire arm.

Behind her, Cassidy stalked in like a thundercloud. Her uniform was its usual state of deliberate dishevelment—skirt hiked up, shirt partially untucked, tie hanging loose.

Her eyes landed on me and narrowed into a death glare so intense it could have melted steel.

Both sisters took their seats near the window, Harlow immediately launching into animated conversation with the girl next to her while Cassidy slumped in her chair and pulled out her phone.

I stared at them both.

Nothing. No tell. No sign. No clue about which one had pressed their lips against mine less than twelve hours ago.

“Earth to Isaiah.” Felix waved a hand in front of my face. “Whoa. You’re staring at the Valentine sisters like they hold the secret to the universe.”

“Maybe they do,” I muttered.

Felix followed my gaze and his eyebrows shot up. “Wait. Did something happen with the Valentines? Is that why you look like death warmed over? Oh my god, did Cassidy finally follow through on her threats to end you?”

“If only it were that simple.”

I stood up, ignoring Felix’s squawk of surprise, and walked across the room toward the Valentine sisters. This was stupid. This was reckless. This was absolutely going to make everything worse.

But I had spent approximately six hours staring at my ceiling, and I needed answers more than I needed dignity.

I stopped beside their desks, where Harlow was talking about some anime series to two other girls who hung on her every word. She paused mid-sentence when she noticed me, her smile widening.

“Assistant-kun!” She clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “You made it home safe!”

I tilted my head slightly, watching her face. “Yeah, I did. What about you?”

“I was already home, silly!” She giggled, her head tilting to match mine.

“Yeah, I mean like…how was your night? After I left?”

“Oh!” Harlow’s eyes widened slightly. Her fingers, which had been still, tapped a quick, silent rhythm on her desk.

Was it nerves, or just Harlow’s usual kinetic energy?

“It was super boring! Mom made us finish all our homework before dinner, then Vivi and I watched this really cool documentary about ocean creatures, but Cassidy said it was stupid and went to her room. Sabrina was reading, of course. Then I worked on my cosplay for like three hours, and the EL wire you suggested is working perfectly! I can’t wait to show you—”

Normal Harlow excitement? Or nervous babbling to hide something?

I turned to Cassidy, who was deliberately ignoring both of us, her eyes fixed on her phone.

“And you?”

Cassidy looked up, her purple eyes narrowing. “What do you want?”

I just stared at her, searching her face for any sign, any hint, any tell that would give her away.

“What?” she snapped after a few seconds.

Was that a blush creeping up her neck?

“W-what? Is there something on my face? Stop being weird.” She shifted in her seat, the blush definitely intensifying.

I kept staring.

“I said stop being weird!” Cassidy hissed, her hand coming up to cover the lower half of her face.

“Hmm,” I said, which was neither an answer nor a denial.

The classroom door opened again, and Mr. Patterson walked in carrying a stack of papers and wearing what could only be described as an uncharacteristic smile.

The expression looked so foreign on his normally apathetic face that several students actually recoiled.

I retreated to my seat next to Felix, who immediately leaned over.

“What was that about?” he whispered.

“Experimental data collection,” I replied.

“…What?”

“Nothing.”

Mr. Patterson cleared his throat with unusual vigor. “Alright everyone, settle down. I have an announcement to make!”

The class quieted, more out of shock at his enthusiasm than any real respect for authority.

“The administration has asked each homeroom to participate in this year’s Fall Festival!” Mr. Patterson slapped the stack of papers on his desk with such force that the front row jumped.

“And this year, we’re going to win!”

A beat of silence.

“Win…what?” someone finally asked.

“The prize!” Mr. Patterson waved his arms. “The class with the best booth gets a special prize! And I’m tired of 3-C winning every year with their stupid haunted house. This is my last chance before retirement, and I want that trophy on my desk!”

I glanced at Felix, who looked as confused as I felt. In the three years I’d known Patterson, I’d never seen him care about anything beyond counting down the days until retirement.

“The Fall Festival will be held the last weekend of October,” Patterson continued, writing on the board with unusual energy.

“Each homeroom needs to decide on a booth or activity. I expect everyone to contribute ideas and volunteer. We meet again after lunch to vote!”