“You don’t like fish. You just don’t want to eat them.”
“Semantics! How did you know who he was, Wynter?”
“I watch basketball. Saw him with her and her brothers at a game over the summer. The commentators were discussing this massive deal he brokered. It made a record.” Wynter grabs her phone and passes it to Shay. “Recognize any of these guys?”
His brow lifts. “Yeah. A few.”
Impressed by her subterfuge, I fan my face. “Oh, my god, Wynter! Are you turning into 008 on me or something?”
“What’s 008?”
I scowl at Shay. “One after 007.”
“Why not?” Wynter reasons. “We have to figure out who’s who, don’t we?”
“Taking a picture was dangerous! Why did you think they were Veronians?”
“I asked Dyers.”
My lips quirk. “That’d do it. We trust him?”
“He was in show-off mode, so definitely.”
I turn to Shay, but before I can ask my directory of who’s who, Denver calls out, “Lex! Professor Maclean, hot as actual fuck, right?”
She whistles. “Hotter than actual fuck.”
“Wynter?” she prompts.
Cackling, Wynter blows on her fingers like they’re burning. “Even hotter than that. Shame his personality makes mass murderers look friendly.”
“Who’s that?” I inquire.
Lex places two Dopie breakfast specials on our table. “He’s a guest professor. Lives in France.”
“You know him, Vick.” Shay gags as I season my fries with pepper.“I’m not gay and I think he’s hot.”
“He can’t be that cute.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen him with Mrs. Maclean. She’s, like, the center of his world,” Lex coos before heading off to another table.
“Maclean’s the guy whose lecture you missed because the Rhos were dicking you around, right, Wynter?”
“Yup. He’s beautiful, I swear. Borderline dreamy.”
Shay, laughing, nods. “He is actually.”
“Kat’ll be getting jealous.” After elbowing me in the side, he shows me a picture on his phone. “Ohh, that’s him? Yeah, he’s hot. I’ve seen him around campus.”
“I had to miss out on eye candy for those idiots.” Wynter sniffles then gestures at her phone. “Know any names?”
Shay chows down a fry then points to one of the faces. “That guy there is Gideon Taylor-Wright.”
“Who?” Wynter asks.
“This hedge-fund fucker. He goes in and strips companies and sells them for parts.”
“Ohhh.”
