“It’s my quiz night and my rules,” Kennedy argues.
“So, it’s a lose-lose situation. Regardless of who wins, I’ll have to go on a date withhim.” Wren giggles from the other side of her. Scarlett shoots her a look and she tries to tamp down her smile.
I lean into Scar and whisper, “Don’t think of it as a date, sweetheart. We can do our casual detective stuff.”
She pulls away from me, turning so we’re facing each other. “I’m not going anywhere else with you.”
“You won’t be saying that when I’m done with you,” I murmur, intent on changing the way she feels about me. She’s got to give up this ‘I hate Evan’ game at some point. Her nostrils flare as she crosses her arms akimbo.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
I don’t say anything because Kennedy has stepped down from her little podium as she gently pushes us apart to our respective sides of the easel. She writes our team names on each side of the sheet; the Folkwhores and Nacho Average Team. Guess who came up with our team’s name.
And why did you guess Miles?
The rules are simple: Kennedy will ask a question, you have five seconds to answer, the first one to write it down on the board wins and if you don’t write anything in five seconds, the other team gets the point.
“Folkwhores, are you ready?” Kennedy asks Scarlett. She pins me with a glare, opening her pen with a pop, not letting her eyes leave mine. Kennedy turns to me. “Nacho Average Team, areyouready?”
I nod and the game begins. The first two rounds are easy. The first question is about how many sports NU covers and the closest answer wins. I guess eight and Scarlett guessed seven. I got the point.
The second question is about who the Dean before Ms Hackerly was, Wren’s mom, took over. Scarlett had an advantage on that one, so she won, leaving us to draw.
“How many years has Ryan Redmond been at NU?” she asks, and I smirk. I went to the same middle school as Ryan, and he was a few grades older. I was confused as to how he was still at NU by the time I started. Hell, he’s still here now.
I write down my answer quickly, my handwriting barely eligible as Scarlett pauses. “Seven and a half,” I say for extra emphasis.
“A point to N.A.T. Well done, Branson,” Kennedy coos and I smile. Scarlett sticks her tongue out at me. “Okay. We only have two more questions left. If Scarlett gets this one right, you’ll be in for a draw, making the last question the tiebreaker. If Evan wins this question, there will be no chance at victory for the Folkwhores.”
We both nod, getting ready in game position. She licks her lips, and it distracts me for a second. I need to win this round. I want her to be the one who has to ask me out. Not the other way around.
“Taylor Swift released a new album a few days ago. How many songs are on the track list?” Kennedy asks.
“That’s an unfair question. It’s not even related to NU,” I blurt out as Scarlett starts writing. I give up. There’s no way I’d be able to get that quick enough without thinking about it for a minute.
“Thirteen!” Scarlett screams and her team cheer for her, including Kennedy. I knew having her as the judge would be a conflict of interest. Scarlett holds up two of her fingers in an L shape. “How does it feel to lose, loser?”
“We’re drawing, dumbass,” I retort. Still, she’s smiling, waiting for Kennedy to ask the tie-breaking question. She did that on purpose. She wanted Scarlett to win, and she knew I would never get the answer. The rules for this game are very loose.
“The million-dollar question,” Kennedy begins dramatically. If I win, she'll have to ask me on a date. If she wins, I’ll have to ask her on a date. “Now, the mascot for North is a bear. What was it before?”
Everything happens in slow motion again.
As the words leave Kennedy’s mouth, I hear the faint sound of meowing coming from the boys. Then I remember what they said about helping me out discreetly if the question came up. They must be doing it on purpose to trip Scarlett up. She looks over at them, forgetting the strict time limit, smirking as she thinks she’s got the right answer and I use the opportunity to write ‘dog’ on the sheet.
“And time!” Kennedy shouts. “Please step away from your board.” We do as she asks, each of us taking a step back. I can’t help but grin at the proud look on Scarlett’s face, the way she’s standing tall, her head held high. “So, we have opposing answers here. Folkwhores believe it was a cat while the Nacho Averagers believe it’s a dog. I’m delighted to announce that the correct answer is…” There’s a dramatic pause of silence. Scarlett’s eyes zone in on me and she still wears that victorious smirk on her face. God, I can't wait for it to wipe right off. “A dog. Congratulations, Nacho Average Team. You have won tonight’s trivia.”
The boys get up from their seats cheering as the girl’s sulk in their seats. I’m about to step down to join them, but Scarlett barrels past Kennedy and straight into me. She almost trips in the process, her foot getting caught on the cardboard. I grab onto her arm.
“Careful, sweetheart,” I whisper, laughing. She drags her arm away from mine and instead jabs her index finger in my chest.
“You’re such a…fuckwaffle!” She digs her finger into my chest harder, her chest rising and falling. Seeing her pissed off is my absolute favourite thing.
“What the hell is a fuckwaffle?” I ask, laughing. She stands there, opening and closing her mouth and fucking hell, watching those round pink lips open and close like that is driving me crazy.
She blinks at me. “I- You- That’s what you are.”
“A fuckwaffle?" I ask curiously. She nods. “You think I’m a waffle you want to fuck?”
