Chapter 12 #4
Round two is sports. Patton answers every question before anyone else can blink. I’m starting to suspect he’s a trivia savant, or possibly a robot disguised as a self-important firefighter.
Unfortunately, Mindy and Austin are eliminated.
Round three is science, and the question is about which two elements on the periodic table are liquid at room temperature.
Someone shouts the first one—mercury.
As for the second, I have no idea.
Patton’s jaw ticks. I take this to mean he doesn’t know either.
I’m desperate because, according to the points on the board, we’re at risk of going out this round.
Mindy mouths something at me from across the table. I can’t read lips. She tries again, exaggerating each word. “Brr-oh …”
Is she cold? Why is she shivering?
Austin taps out Morse code on the table. At least, I think it’s Morse code. It could be a nervous tic.
Patton’s phone keeps buzzing. He’s ignoring it, but the vibrations are so loud that people at the next table keep looking our way.
My phone sits innocently on the table. I’m not going to look it up out of curiosity. It’s not like I would share the answer.
But what if I just … verified? What if I just made sure I wasn’t about to say something completely wrong?
I pick it up and type quickly. My phone is greasy from when I swiped one of Patton’s nachos after he denied me. The creep wouldn’t share!
His phone buzzes so violently that it falls off the table and clatters to the floor.
Everyone stares.
He bends down to grab it just as my phone’s smooth robot voice blares from my speaker at full volume, “The two elements from the periodic table that are liquid at room temperature, measured at twenty-five degrees Celsius, are mercury and bromine.”
Every customer at Huck’s goes silent.
Silver Sam Howell points at our table. “That’s cheating! Disqualified!”
My face burns hotter than the summer sun on pavement. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—”
“She was looking it up,” someone from another table calls out.
I want to melt into the grimy floorboards. Grandma looks horrified. Mayor Barbie raises her eyebrows. Judy Waples shakes her head in disappointment. The room is dead quiet.
“I was just checking—” I start, but Patton’s phone vibrates
And vibrates again.
And again.
Lucky narrows his eyes. “What’s that?”
Everyone in the room starts talking.
Patton peers at his phone. Text after text from “Scotty”—another EMT like Patton and a firefighter on the crew.
“Were you asking for answers?” I accuse with a hiss.
“You were searching for answers,” Patton fires back.
I whisper-shout, “I didn’t mean to! I wasn’t going to—”
“Sure.”
“You were getting texts!”
“From a walking encyclopedia.”
We’re both standing now, facing each other across the table like two fighters in a ring. The entire restaurant watches.
This is a disaster. I should have stayed home with my crossword puzzle.
Lucky bangs a gavel. “Winnie and Patton are disqualified for unsportsmanlike conduct!”
“Wait—” I sound like I’m talking through a Halloween mask and must look horrified.
“We didn’t mean—” Patton says at the same time.
“Your punishment,” Lucky announces with theatrical flair, “is to sit there and watch the honest folks compete while you think about what you’ve done … and no free soft drink refills.”
Peggy lifts a finger. “You’re not authorized to do that.”
Everyone at Huck’s erupts in murmurs. I sink back into my seat, mortified. Patton does the same, his jaw so tight I’m surprised his teeth don’t crack.
We sit in excruciating silence while the other teams continue playing. Our knees bump under the table. We both jerk away like we’ve been shocked by a high-voltage electrical cable.
“Thanks for ruining the night,” I mutter under my breath.
“I didn’t want to be here anyway,” he fires back, just as quietly.
“Could’ve fooled me with all that enthusiastic team spirit,” my voice drips with sarcasm.
“Says the woman who searched online for answers.”
I cringe. “You were getting texts!”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
Austin and Mindy shake their heads, leaving us alone in our misery and quibbling.
Another team wins the round, wrapping up the game. Lucky holds up the miniature squirrel statue—identical to the massive carved one outside, just pocket-sized. “The champions take home glory!”
“Didn’t want that stupid miniature statue anyway,” Patton mutters.
I glance at the prize. “Technically, it’s a life size rendition of a squirrel.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “It’s six inches tall.”
“Life size for a Chickaree squirrel. They’re small.” I pause. “Unlike the giant carved replica outside.”
His mouth twitches. It’s not quite a smile, but maybe he’s trying not to laugh at us parsing out the intricacies of squirrel size. Or he’s just laughing at me, which is more likely the case.
“Guess we don’t work well together,” I say.
“Definitely not.”
Amid the cheering for the winners, I grab my purse and coat, desperate to escape before anyone else decides to push my embarrassment button. But as I edge toward the door, Mayor Barbie intercepts me.
“Winnie! Quite a show in there tonight.” Her smile is wide as usual.
My cheeks heat. “It was a misunderstanding. I was curious about the answer since everyone was stumped. I didn’t mean to—”
“Oh, I’m not too concerned about the trivia.” She glances back at the table where Patton still sits, frowning. “You two certainly have a spark. Chemistry like that is rare around here.”
“Him? Me? Chemistry?” I echo like I just kissed a toad. “We can barely stand each other.”
“Mmm.” Her smile sharpens. “If you say so. Oh, and by the way, I’ll have the Fireman’s Ball planning assignments on your desk on Monday. Have a lovely weekend!”
She breezes past, leaving me standing in the doorway, completely confused. I glance back through the window. Patton is looking in my direction, but his eyes are unreadable in the neon glow of the Open sign.
I push through the door into the freezing January night.
The cold bites at my cheeks, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of humiliation still burning in my chest. Behind me, through the window, I catch one more glimpse of Patton.
He’s on his feet, shrugging into his coat.
Our eyes meet for half a second before I look away.
My heart does something stupid and fluttery.
Chemistry? Spark? Ha! The only thing combustible between us is mutual annoyance.
Keep reading …