4. Alex
4
ALEX
T he next two clues are progressively harder, and while I thought we might move on to the next section before our ninety-minute cutoff, we barely make it to our meeting point on time, making us among the only three teams in our group to move on to the next round.
There are a lot of disappointed faces in the crowd, and I feel bad for the little kids, but Quinn is a pro at making them feel better. I don’t know what to say, my guilt escalating as we wait to move along to the next area.
I watch the schoolteacher crouch down at eye level with one of the kids. She speaks to her reasonably, like the six-year-old is a full-grown adult.
“Now you get to go home with your dad before the festival starts and have some hot chocolate. Maybe decorate your own tree at home?” Quinn placates the child. “Then you can come back and enjoy the festival with everyone else.”
“But we want to light the big tree!” the girl whimpers, peering up at her father.
“You’ll get to stand back in the crowd and enjoy it with all your friends and neighbors while someone else does the work,” Quinn counters with a warm smile.
She never smiles at me like that. I consider that I’m a little jealous of this kid.
“Will you be here?” She sniffles, and my heart melts.
Quinn wipes her tears away as the child’s father shoots me an apologetic look.
“Of course,” Quinn promises. “That’s the best part.”
“Even if you don’t win?” the girl pleads.
I catch the expression of dismay on Quinn’s pretty face, as if the thought of losing had not occurred to her.
She really does have a competitive streak, doesn’t she? What will happen if she doesn’t win?
“Of course I’ll be here,” she promises the girl, smiling up at her father. “We’ll all be here together, because that’s what we do in Holly Ridge, don’t we? We come together, even if we don’t always win every contest. It’s not about winning, it’s about being together.”
The girl nods, and she dries her eyes. “My sister had you as a teacher. She said you’re her favoritest teacher ever.”
“Favoritest isn’t a word,” her father corrects her quickly. Quinn chuckles.
“That’s okay. Sometimes we can take a little creative liberty when expressing ourselves, can’t we? I know your sister, and she was one of my most favorite students, too.”
The girl’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
Quinn nods. “Really.”
Her father raises an eyebrow dubiously, but makes no comment. I catch the look, however, and vow to ask Quinn about it after.
“I hope I have you one day,” the girl tells Quinn, smiling widely. “You’re nice. And pretty.”
She is pretty, I agree silently. The jury is still out on nice.
“I hope I get to have you in my class, too,” Quinn says.
The father thanks Quinn for her kindness, and when they shuffle away, I ask her. “Do you really remember that kid’s sister?”
Quinn shoots me a sidelong look, her frown returning. I’m getting used to her scowl in my direction, but it doesn’t make it any easier to take. “Yes. Why?”
I shrug. “The father didn’t seem like you should.”
Quinn purses her lips together and starts walking toward the next section. I hurry to follow her, the rest of our team behind us.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask, puzzled.
Her steps falter, and she hesitates, as if she’s debating whether to tell me what she’s thinking.
“Quinn?”
She glances back at me, her eyes narrowed. “In my class, everyone is included and accepted, regardless of their differences,” she fires at me. “So yes, I make it a point to remember everyone, even the ones who are considered different or problematic.”
She starts off again, and I’m left gawking after her. Startled, I chase after her. “I-I don’t know the girl,” I tell her slowly. “I didn’t realize she was a problem. It just seemed like her dad was confused by your comment.”
Quinn’s head whips toward me, her brilliant eyes narrowing. “I just told you she wasn’t a problem.”
My hands jerk up. “Okay… have I…?” I trail off, unsure of how to finish my own statement. Everything I say seems to offend her, but I don’t even know what I’m saying.
“We need to get to the dog park. Are you coming or not?”
I swallow thickly, watching her stride toward the center of the park with the remaining pairs in our group behind her.
Why is she being so cold toward me?
I’m determined to figure out what’s going on. I can’t go on like this all day. I’m starting to get a headache.