Chapter 3: The Dessert Trap

The humid night air slapped me in the face as we stepped outside, hoping the drama was behind us. But before we’d made it two steps, I heard her voice, urgent and shaky. "Wait! Please!"

She hurried after us, work shoes clacking against the pavement. In her hand was a little white box—probably some leftover cheesecake from the dessert case.

Without a word, she thrust it toward Marcus, her arm outstretched. He frowned and sidestepped her, irritation breaking through his usually calm demeanor.

"No thanks." His words were clipped, almost harsh. "You should be thanking my girlfriend, not me."

She froze, her script thrown off. For a moment, she glanced at me, her eyes calculating. With stiff, awkward hands, she finally shoved the box into my arms.

"Thank you," she muttered, each syllable forced. "If he doesn’t want it, you can have it."

I met her gaze with a half-smile, channeling Mom’s business face—cool, polite, unreadable. Her apron had vanished, and now her work dress showed off her figure, makeup somehow refreshed. As I replayed Marcus mentioning the bill, it clicked: she’d been listening, sizing us up from the start.

But she wasn’t finished. She darted forward, grabbing Marcus’s sleeve. "Hey! If you want to get back into the dorms after curfew, come with me! I know the guard—I can sneak you in."

She batted her eyelashes, inching closer. It was like I wasn’t even there, invisible next to my own boyfriend.

Marcus stepped back, voice flat. "We live off-campus. Not going back to school."

Her eyes widened, lighting up at the idea. "Then add me on Instagram! I gave your girlfriend a gift, but I haven’t thanked you yet!" She whipped out her phone, case sparkly pink.

Right then, the manager jogged over, out of breath. "Sorry, folks. Turns out the camera in that area is broken. You were the only table nearby—could you help us out and testify?"

I grinned, not missing a beat. "Sorry, manager. I was too busy eating. Didn’t see a thing."

The girl’s composure cracked. "That’s not true! You just—"

I cut her off, my smile never faltering. "I was just focused on my food."

The manager’s eyes flicked from me to her, and I could tell he understood the game. He’d seen it all before.