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"Let's go to the East End," Grant said. "I could go for a few rounds of pool."

"Yeah, let's go," Jenny chimed in. "I need a night out to get over the horrors of my physics exam."

"Why don't you guys go ahead," I said, propping my weight on the back of Sarah's chair with my hands. My previous seat on the recliner was wide open but there was no way I was going back there, so close to Simon. "I have to work tomorrow morning so I just want an early night in."

Sarah turned around in her seat. "No way! You've gotta come. At least for a few drinks."

"Sarah," I said, "I don't want to be dragging tomorrow at Colette's."

Colette's was the French cafe that I worked at, although the only thing that made it French were the croissants and the owner's insistence that it was French. It was more a diner than anything else but the owner, Colleen, insisted on calling it a cafe. Colleen also insisted on wearing a beret and had initially tried to make her employees wear berets as well, but we had all revolted. Colleen had opened up Colette's years ago and it was now an institution at Rochester for students and locals alike. Colleen had named the cafe after herself. The French version of herself, anyways. Ironically, Colleen had never even been to France.

"Come on," urged Jenny. "Please! Just go for a few drinks. Not enough to be hung over."

"Where's your glass of wine?" his deep voice asked.

"Huh?" I asked. I then looked down at my empty hands. I had forgotten that I had used the excuse of getting my glass of wine for going into the kitchen and escaping his close proximity. "Oh, uh...I drank it."

"That means you're ready for another," Simon replied with a grin. "Let me buy you one at the bar."

"No thanks," I snapped. "I'm not a big drinker."

Sarah creased her forehead, examining me closely. She was probably wondering why my reaction was so out of proportion with Simon being nice. But the way he said it didn't seem nice. It seemed...too personal. I didn't want him to have any expectations.

"I promise I'll get you home at a decent hour," Marcus said, giving me a small smile. "I need to get up early too for soccer practice." Marcus played in a club soccer league, although besides practicing they didn't seem to do much else. They only played other teams once every couple of months.

I felt everyone's eyes on me, which made me extremely uncomfortable. One particular set of blue eyes made me the most uncomfortable but I refused to look in their direction.

I threw up my hands in defeat with a sigh. "Fine, I'll go. There's only so much peer pressure a girl can take. I feel like I'm in an after school special."

"Yay!" squealed Sarah. "I feel like getting a little crazy tonight."

Grant checked his watch. "It's pretty early. Why don't we head down there around nine-thirty since some of us are making it an early night? We've still got a while and I hear the spaghetti calling my name again. You make a mean meat sauce, Caitlin."

"Hey," Sarah protested. "How do you know Caitlin made it? It could've been me."

Grant laughed, "Because I've tasted your cooking."

"Sarah's made really good cookies before," defended Jenny. She turned to Sarah. "What were they again? There were like pretzels and stuff in it."

Sarah pouted. "Those were Caitlin's garbage cookies."

I called them my garbage cookies because I threw tons of stuff in it, like pretzels, peanuts, toffee and anything else that sounded good and I had on hand. Each batch was a little different.

"She licked the spoon though," I joked. "Oh, and she cracked the eggs." I didn't mention that Sarah had to crack double the amount of eggs I needed because half of the time she crushed them in the process and got so much shell in the bowl that it was easier just to crack another egg.

"I'll have to try these garbage cookies sometime," Simon said, patting his stomach. "I'm a sucker for anything sweet, especially cookies."

"Oh, I haven't made them in a long time. I'll probably never make them again," I said emphatically. A little irrationally, I had to admit.

Simon burst out laughing, not the reaction I was going for. "I'm sure I can convince you to make them again," he said with a sly grin.

Sarah poked me in the side. "You're being weird," she announced.

Thanks. Thanks a lot, Sarah, I thought. Traitor.

"She's weird a lot," Jenny chirped. Another traitor. "That's her charm. You'll get used to it, Simon."

"I'm looking forward to it," Simon replied, looking at me for the first time with no humor or laughter. He just locked his eyes with mine and I felt that squirming in my stomach again. Suddenly I saw a flash of his face crumpled with agony. I looked away quickly, banishing the memory of my vision.

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