Kaitlyn hunched over her laptop, frowning at her laptop screen. Behind her, the familiar backdrop of clicking buttons, tinny sound effects, and the occasional cry of victory or defeat wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. One she definitely didn't mind, given her current predicament.

Why isn't this working?

She peered at her code once again. Everything seemed to be well in order, and in a sense it was. The script she wrote was working as intended. The problem was, it was just too slow.

I need this to be way more efficient. Did I do something wrong? Or did I just take the wrong approach?

"Uh, Kay?"

She looked up to see Ian at her elbow. "Oh! Hey Ian. What's up?"

"Doubles signups are about to close. Did you want to team again? We did pretty well the first time around, so…"

"Right!" She smacked herself on the forehead. "Sorry. I mean, of course I do! I meant to ask earlier, just got a bit distracted…"

Ian chuckled. "I know the feeling. I'll go tell John." Before leaving though, the chestnut-haired boy stooped and peered at her screen. "What're you working on?"

"Ah, just some stuff for one of my classes." Kaitlyn sighed. "Kind of. Not an assignment or anything, I'm just trying to play around with the concepts a bit. I'm trying to get this improved multiplication to work, but… factors are hard. Maybe I just need to take a break."

"Why are you doing it that way?"

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Ian frowned. "I mean, why not just use a library for that?"

"I mean… I guess I could, but I wanted to understand how to do it myself."

"Can I take a look then?." He leaned over and traced the couple dozen lines of code, before pointing at the top of her file. "It looks like your starting condition is off."

She stared at Ian in utter bewilderment. "Wait really? Did I… Shoot. I think I copied my base case wrong." Kaitlyn let out a small groan. "Wow, now I feel stupid. I completely missed that… Wait, are you taking Algorithms too?"

"Me? Ah, no." He chuckled awkwardly. "I'm just taking Intro to Programming right now. That, and a bunch of GE's. Isn't Algorithms a second year class, anyway?"

Her bewilderment only grew. "Wait, you're only in the intro class? Then how…? Er, how do you know how to do this?"

She managed to catch herself before asking how he was designing an entire game from the ground up. That was knowledge she wasn't exactly supposed to have yet. Though with how far her understanding of programming had come, maybe taking a look at the game's code might be worth pursuing a friendship ending again.

Ian scratched his brown curls with embarrassment. "Ah, yeah. I've been, ah, coding for a while."

Obviously. There's no way you started making that game once you got to college. Which means you either learned in high school or taught yourself. But if you understand enough to solve this problem, how are you only in the intro class?

"Er, Kay?"

"Right!" She snapped her laptop shut. "Sorry, I was just surprised is all."

"No worries. I was too, to be honest. I didn't realize you were a CS major, too."

"I'm… not," Kaitlyn admitted. "I'm Biology. This is just something I'm doing for fun, I guess?"

"Fun? Taking more classes is your idea of fun?" Now it was Ian's turn to stare. "I guess that explains why you play Iceez."

She grinned. "Hey! You should be grateful. At least I have the decency not to play them in doubles."

"I guess that's true," he chuckled. "Maybe you're not a complete psychopath, then. C'mon. Let's go sign up."

"Right." Kaitlyn stuffed her laptop into her backpack and retrieved her student ID. She hadn't invested in a personal controller for a long while, since exchanging her ID for a loaner worked so well. That money was better spent elsewhere, anyway. "Let's get going. Maybe we'll have time to warm up, too."

Setting her backpack in the corner next to Ian's, they headed toward the front desk to start yet another tournament.

***

"Oi, Kaitlyn!"

"Yes, Chef!"

"Finish off that cream sauce, will you?"

"You got it, Chef!"

Kaitlyn zipped over to the saucepan in question. The rich aroma of its silky contents met her with open arms as she tasted it.

Let's see… I need to add the last of the cheese, plus salt, pepper, nutmeg, and maybe a touch more cream. We'll see once it simmers down more.

She got to work, focusing on the task at hand. As comfortable as she'd become with the sauces, the last thing she wanted was to mess one of them up. Scarra might just kill her for that.

Still, as she worked, her mind wandered to her Algorithms class. Six weeks in, and they had their first group project. Everything up until this point had been an individual assignment, more or less, though cooperation was still heavily encouraged.

Kaitlyn was thankful for that. Their study sessions had turned into a comfortable routine where she'd pull the assignment up and pepper Philip with questions about it as he tried to explain things in a way she could understand. He minded less than she'd expected, honestly. He even refrained from discussing his performance on the assignments after they were graded, probably as a way to further protect her fragile ego.

But this assignment, cooperation wasn't just encouraged. It would be required. She shuddered to think about how much more difficult it would be to compensate.

Kaitlyn finished up with the sauce, nodding to herself as she tasted it again. "Ready for you to check, Chef."

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Scarra grunted in acknowledgement, not even turning away from the pile of vegetables he was chopping. "Turn down the heat on it for now."

"Already did!" She gave the saucepan one last stir, then glanced toward the sink. "Chef, I'm going to take care of the dishes real quick."

"Fine, fine. Clean those knives while you're at it, will ya?"

"Ok!" With that, Kaitlyn headed toward the sink. Plates and bowls flew from the waiting pile of dirty dishes into the sudsy water, their remaining contents sent into the trash as if gravity itself drew them inside. To a less experienced eye, it might have seemed as though Kaitlyn were working haphazardly or carelessly. Yet each motion was measured and honed through endless experience.

Now if only I get this good at prepping ingredients. Kaitlyn glanced toward Scarra as he sliced an onion with the speed and precision of a machine. I'm almost as fast as Scarra is, I think. Almost. Meal prep has definitely helped with that, too. But I'm still not quite at his level of consistency.

As she sank into the meditative trance of dishwashing, Kaitlyn thought about the group project once again. Specifically, the "group" part of it.

I want to ask Philip to partner with me. I'm not sure if that's even ok, since I'm auditing the class instead of actually taking it. I'd have to ask the professor. But even if it is ok… should I do it?

Fear of rejection wasn't the only thing that stayed her hand. There were also worries about embarrassment or finally earning Philip's ire and annoyance, too. Even though their study sessions had continued, Kaitlyn still felt like she was dragging the guy down. The material obviously didn't click with her the same way it did with him – that had become clear enough simply talking about it. So wouldn't it be selfish to ask even more?

I know it would be a drain on him. I'd probably even drag his grade down, too. But… She ran the sponge quickly around the interior of a saucepan before dunking it into the rinsing sink. Maybe I'm overthinking it. I mean, he hasn't objected to study sessions yet, despite everything. So it's probably worth a shot at least, right?

As she mulled the proposition over, her resolve solidified. Ok. I'm going to ask. Next time there's a lull, I'll pull him aside.

It didn't take long for an opportunity to appear. Thursdays were always the slowest at Chella's, though "slowest" was a relative term. The place still boasted an impressive amount of customers any they opened their doors. Regardless, her own efforts made sure that even a packed house didn't result in the same kind of hectic frenzy she'd once associated with the place.

"Order in." Philip stepped into the kitchen area and tacked another ticket above Scarra's table. "Tortellini and chicken parmesan, sides of broccoli on each."

"On it!"

Philip's eyes flashed around the space, checking over it for anything that required his attention. Satisfied, he simply turned back to the kitchen door.

"Hey, Philip?"

He stopped and looked toward Kaitlyn. "Yes?"

"Do you have a minute?"

"I do. Is there something you need?"

"Ah, not exactly. I'm pretty caught up back here."

"As I've noticed." The server glanced around at the full boxes of folded napkins, stacked breadbaskets, and practically nonexistent stack of dishes. She caught a flash of what might have been approval in his eyes.

"Yeah. I actually wanted to ask about the Algorithms project." She finished cleaning the last stockpot, flicking her hands dry over the sink. "I, uh… do you already have a group?"

"...I do not," he said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well…" the sudden sense of heightened tension made Kaitlyn hesitate. Too late to back down now, though. "...I don't either. So… did you want to partner up for it? I don't know if it'll be ok with the professor, and I don't want to drag you down or anything, but…"

She trailed off. Philip stood there for a long moment, his expression impassive. His grey eyes didn't waver from Kaitlyn's own. Their intensity made her shift uncomfortably.

Ok. I didn't expect it to be this big of a deal. What's going on?

"…I'd suggest that you find someone else to partner with."

She flinched, then deflated somewhat. Of course. She'd been hopeful, obviously, but what could she expect? Perhaps it really had been too much to ask."

"That's ok. I understand. I don't want to be a burden on you." Kaitlyn gave the server a weak smile. "I mean, you've got more at stake, anyway, since I'm not getting a grade…"

He shook his head. "That's not it. You are not a burden. It's… there are other considerations to be made."

Like what? She nearly gave voice to the question, but stopped herself. Philip hadn't moved yet, a trace of uncertainty in his own eyes. It almost seemed as though he was considering something himself.

"Order up!"

Scarra's bellow broke the silence. Philip snapped out of his trance, spinning toward the piping-hot dishes. "Apologies. Perhaps… perhaps we can resume this conversation later. After work."

Kaitlyn frowned in confusion. "Sure. Later, then."

What does he mean? What else is there to say? If he doesn't want to partner with me, that's his decision.

Philip disappeared back through the door toward the dining area. With the dishes taken care of, Kaitlyn washed her hands and headed toward the stove herself. The mystery still plagued her as she started preparing some vegetables.

Seriously, what's going on with Philip? Something definitely feels off, even more so than usual. I've never seen him look anything close to hesitant like that. So what's going on?

She shook her head sternly. There was no use thinking about it right now. Either she'd find out after work, or she wouldn't. Plain and simple.

The hours dragged by with a painful lethargy. Business picked up as dinnertime came and went, yet even the influx of orders couldn't fully keep Kaitlyn's mind off of things. She kept sneaking glances at the guy each time he came into the back, as though it would help her read his mind. It was bad enough that Scarra nearly threw her out for oversalting a batch of broccoli – a complete rookie mistake.

Eventually though, the restaurant emptied and their shifts came to a close. Kaitlyn finished up the last of the dishes as Chella strode into the space, followed closely by Philip.

"Phew!" The portly woman wiped some sweat off her brow. "I could use a warm cup of tea and a soft pillow. My back is killing me."

Scarra rolled his eyes. "From what, sitting too long? Maybe I need to work Kaitlyn harder in the kitchen, if that's the case. Get you back on dishes for a while."

"Oh, hush dear." Chella swatted her husband on the shoulder. "If you want me to take all of this paperwork and administrative stuff home, then go on ahead. Maybe you can even help me with it."

The man's face twisted up in utter revulsion. "Oi, don't even joke about that…"

Chella giggled as her husband continued cleaning up. She turned to her two employees with a smile. "Well, I think we're good for the night. Thank you both, as always. I simply don't know what I'd do without you."

Kaitlyn returned her smile as Philip simply nodded at the praise. "My pleasure, Mrs. Anatonia."

"Oh, none of that now, honey." She flapped a hand at the boy until he straightened. "Now get along, both of you!"

Kaitlyn collected her things and put on her usual hoodie. This is it. If he actually wants to say something, it'll probably be now. If not, maybe I'll just… leave it be? Or should I ask him about it?

Fortunately, she didn't have to decide. Philip approached her just as she headed for the back door. "May I talk to you for a moment?"

Here we go. "Sure. What's up?"

"Outside, if you don't mind."

She shrugged noncommittally and followed his retreating figure. Guess he wants to keep this private. That's fine.

Philip opened the door for her and the pair stepped outside into the night. The cool autumn wind sent Kaitlyn's hair fluttering slightly, prompting her to tuck it more securely behind her ears. The amber pool of light emitted by a lamp near the back door extended just far enough to reveal Philip's familiar rustbucket of a sedan.

The door clicked shut as Philip stepped forward. She turned around expectantly. "So… what did you want to talk about?"

Philip closed his eyes and let out a long breath. When he opened them again, his gaze had changed. Gone was the uncertainty from earlier, as fleeting as it had seemed. In its place was nothing but stony determination.

"I will be blunt. I am not a student at Hartland University."