Four Of A Kind

Chapter 127: [3.29] The World’s Stupidest Standoff

Cassidy rolled her eyes, but as we walked toward the shop, she stayed close enough that our arms occasionally brushed. Maybe it was accidental. Probably not.

Inside, Mira was working again, her face lighting up when she saw me. “Isaiah! Back so soon?”

“Can’t stay away from your bubble tea,” I said honestly. “It’s addictive.”

Mira laughed, then noticed Cassidy beside me. Her eyes widened slightly in recognition—the Valentine sisters tended to have that effect on people.

“The usual for you?” she asked me, already reaching for a cup.

“Please. And…” I turned to Cassidy.

“Passionfruit with lychee jelly,” Cassidy said. “Extra ice, quarter sugar.”

Mira nodded, writing down the order. “Coming right up! You two can grab a seat.”

I led Cassidy to a small table near the window. The shop was relatively empty for a Friday afternoon, just a couple of NYU students in the corner and an older woman reading a book by the counter.

“So,” I said once we were seated. “Let’s talk study plans.”

Cassidy groaned. “I thought this was a no-grades zone.”

“It is. We’re not talking about your current grade. We’re talking about your future grade. The B you’re going to earn.”

She slumped in her chair. “That seems so impossible right now.”

“Only because you’re looking at the whole mountain instead of the next step.”

“What’s the next step then, oh wise one?”

I smiled. “Practice quiz on Monday. I’ll write one up this weekend. If you get above a 70%, we’ll consider it progress.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then we adjust. Try something new. Maybe the graph paper isn’t working for you anymore. Maybe we need a different approach.”

Cassidy studied me, her expression unreadable. “Isn’t that the girl who gave you her number?”

She nodded toward the counter where Mira was preparing our drinks, humming to herself.

Oh shit.

My brain executed an emergency shutdown sequence. I stared blankly at Mira, then back at Cassidy, whose eyebrows had climbed halfway up her forehead.

“What girl?” I asked stupidly, as if playing dumb had ever worked on Cassidy Valentine.

“The barista,” Cassidy said slowly, like she was explaining quantum physics to a golden retriever. “The one who wrote her number on your receipt last time. The one you’re on a first-name basis with.” Her eyes narrowed further. “The one who’s writing something on your cup right now.”

I risked a glance at Mira, who was indeed scribbling something on my cup with her marker. Probably just my name. Definitely just my name. Please be just my name.

“We’re friendly acquaintances,” I said carefully. “I come here a lot.”

“Hmm.” Cassidy tilted her head. “Friendly enough for her to give you her number?”

“She didn’t—”

“You’re a terrible liar, scholarship boy.”

I sighed. No point denying it. “Fine. Yes, that’s Mira. Yes, she gave me her number. No, I haven’t called her.”

“Why not? She’s pretty.” Cassidy’s voice sounded deliberately casual, but her finger tapped rapidly against the table—her tell when she’s upset or nervous.

“I’ve been busy,” I said, which was true enough.

“Too busy to call a cute girl who’s obviously into you?” She looked genuinely confused. “What kind of teenage boy are you?”

“The responsible kind with a sister to support and four Valentine heiresses to tutor.”

Cassidy’s expression shifted slightly. “So if you weren’t busy, you would call her?”

Ah, I see the trap now. If I say yes, I’m admitting interest in Mira. If I say no, I need a reason why not.

Time for a counter-attack.

“Why do you care?” I asked, turning the question back on her.

Her ears turned pink, a dead giveaway. “I don’t. I’m just curious why anyone would pass up someone who’s clearly interested.”

“Are you asking for personal reasons, Valentine? Looking for dating advice?”

Her blush deepened. “As if I’d need advice from you.”

“Evidence suggests otherwise,” I said smugly. “Your track record with relationships is—”

“Order for Isaiah!” Mira called from the counter, saving me from completing a sentence that probably would have gotten me punched.

I stood to retrieve our drinks, feeling Cassidy’s eyes on my back the whole time. When I reached the counter, Mira smiled brightly.

“One taro milk tea with extra pearls,” she said, sliding my cup toward me, “and one passionfruit with lychee jelly, quarter sugar, extra ice.”

“Thanks, Mira.”

“So…” She leaned over the counter, lowering her voice. “Is that one of the famous Valentine sisters?”

“Yeah. Cassidy. I’m her tutor.”

Mira’s eyes widened. “Just her tutor?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smiled knowingly. “Nothing. But for what it’s worth, she hasn’t taken her eyes off you since you walked in.” Mira winked. “And she definitely noticed me writing on your cup.”

I glanced down at my cup. Where the name would normally go, Mira had written “CALL ME ALREADY” with a small heart.

“Was that necessary?” I asked, turning the cup so Cassidy couldn’t see the message.

“Just trying to help,” Mira said innocently. “Sometimes boys need a push.”

“I don’t need pushing in any direction,” I muttered.

“Sure you don’t.”

I balanced both drinks and headed back to our table, turning my cup so the message faced inward. Cassidy immediately tried to peek at it.

“What did she write?” she asked, making a grab for my cup.

I held it out of reach. “My name.”

“Then why are you hiding it?”

“I’m not hiding it. I’m drinking from it.”

“Show me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting weird.”

“Says the person demanding to inspect my cup.”

We stared at each other across the table, locked in the world’s stupidest standoff. Finally, Cassidy huffed and sat back.

“Fine.” She took an angry sip of her own drink. “I don’t care what your girlfriend writes on your bubble tea.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Whatever.”

We sat in awkward silence. I sipped my tea, careful to keep the message hidden. Cassidy stirred her drink with her straw, making the ice clink against the plastic.

“She seems nice,” Cassidy said eventually.

“She is nice.”

“And pretty.”

“I guess so.”

“You guess so?” Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Are you blind?”

“Why are we still talking about this?”

“Because,” Cassidy stabbed her straw through a piece of lychee jelly, “I’m trying to figure out if you’re actually a robot.”

“A robot.”

“Yes. A robot. No normal teenage guy ignores a hot girl giving him her number unless he’s either already dating someone or he’s secretly a robot programmed to tutor women.”

“Maybe I’m just professional,” I suggested.

Cassidy snorted. “Professional? You literally just threatened to make me wear rabbit ears. That doesn’t seem very professional.”

She had a point. I took another sip of tea to buy time.

“I’m waiting,” Cassidy said.

“For what?”

“For you to explain why you haven’t called Bubble Tea Girl.”

I met her eyes across the table. There were a hundred things I could say. That I was too busy. That I wasn’t interested. That dating was too complicated.

None of them felt true enough.

“Maybe,” I said slowly, “I’ve got my eye on someone else.”