Page 54 of Betting on the Brainiac

She shoots a fake scared look in the direction of their small guest bathroom in the hallway. “Shh, she’ll hear you.”

I grab two pieces of celery and form a cross. “I’m ready.”

Her smile is bigger now. “I’m okay. Thanks for asking. Today is helping.”

“How rude to make Sami’s birthday party about you.”

“The one they invented at the last minute because they couldn’t take the wallowing anymore?” She gives me a look that warns me not to even try to play it off.

I throw a piece of edamame—S is for soybean—at her plate. “Glad I got to help.”

She sighs, a small, quiet sound. She snags part of my celery cross and bites into it. Even the way she chews it looks tired, like all the energy holding her up has drained. “You’re a perfectly nice guy,” she says. “Why can’t I like you?”

“Um, thanks?” My feelings about being called a “nice guy” depend on the context, and I’m not sure what this context is. “Why can’t you like me?”

“Because.” Another sigh. “I already picked you for Madison.”

I shoot a look toward the living room. “You said you weren’t trying to set us up.”

“I lied because you can’t keep a straight face and because Madison would never have agreed to let you work at Gatsby’s ifshe thought I was up to something.” She takes another bite of her celery and waits. I stare at her, not sure what to say to that.

“Why tell me now?”

“I told you, you can’t keep a straight face. You already like her. Is there a reason I should pretend I don’t notice?” Crunch crunch crunch.

“To keep my dignity intact,” I say. “That’s a good reason.”

She shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Most guys act like that around her. I don’t know if anyone else is paying much attention. Ava, maybe. She has a habit of seeming like she’s not paying attention and then, boom, she’s giving you a rundown of every detail she’s absorbed like it’s a lab report.”

I rub my hand over my face. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

She slows her crunching, thinking. “Charlie knows you pretty well. He might notice too, and—”

“Stop,” I say, relieved the joking in the other room is loud enough to cover our conversation. “Let’s keep it at you. Only you noticed.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Madison has definitely not noticed.”

It does. Then it doesn’t. “How do you know?”

“She acts around you like she acts around every guy she’s not dating. Charlie, Joey, Josh. Big friend energy.”

Her assessment chafes, but she’s right; Madison treats me exactly the way she treats all the other guys in that room. “Any advice on how to change that?”

“The kittens were a good strategy,” Ruby says.

“I don’t know how many more stray animals I can find to rescue inside the club. Got any other ideas?”

“Don’t rule that one out so fast,” Ruby says. “It’s got potential. I need projects to keep me busy right now. I can do someresearch on how to trap raccoons and possums and release them into the club before y’all get in every morning.”

I set down my plate and pull her into a hug, her head not even coming to my shoulders. “Gosh, Rube, I appreciate that so much, but what if I take you to some skydiving or snake charming lessons instead?”

She sniffs and squeezes me. “Sounds boring, but fine.”

“Good.” I squeeze her back. “Now, any real idea for how to get Madison’s attention when I’m not wearing a mask?”

“You could—” She freezes. “Mask?”

I wait, and a second later she shoves against my chest so she can look up at me, her mouth hanging open.

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