Page 16 of Clara Knows Best

It was hard not to like the STEM kids.

“So what’s on the agenda? Working on the robots again?”

It was always robots.

An hour passed, during which time she was called on once or twice to man the stopwatch, but mostly she was able to vegetate in peace.

The outside door opened and Jesse Flores stepped into the cafeteria.

Clara sighed faintly, admiring his lean, powerful build and the width of his shoulders. He wasn’t wearing a hat today, and his hair was combed back in just the right way.

The STEM kids ignored the intrusion.

“’Morning,” he greeted her.

“Good morning,” she answered, curious as to his mission.

“Got you something.”

“You did?” she asked in surprise.

She hadn’t noticed the big bottle of clear Gatorade he was carrying. He wrenched it open and set it on the table in front of her. Then he took a packet from his pocket, tore it open, and dumped about a tablespoon of some powdery substance into the drink.

“What is that?” she asked nervously.

“Multivitamin.”

“Oh.” She watched as he tossed the paper into the trash, closed the bottle and shook it. “Will this make me feel better?”

He handed it to her. “Not perceptibly.”

That surprised a rueful laugh out of her. “Thanks.”

“We’re even now. For the iced coffee.”

Ah, the repaying of an old debt.

“Drink the whole thing,” he added.

“Aye, aye,” she quipped, because she was unable to take a direct order without some sass. But it was sweet, him trying to doctor her, and she was grateful.

“So what’s all this?”

“Robots,” she said needlessly. “There’s some tournament coming up next month. I’m supervising. What are you doing here?”

“I thought you’d be sleeping in but your mom said you’d left hours ago.”

That was notreallyan answer, but she liked it. The whole situation was surprisingly Clara-centric. “Yeah, they meet at eight, don’t ask me why.”

“She roped you into this, huh?” he said, looking around at the different works in progress.

“She really had to twist my arm.”Because otherwise I’d never do something nice for someone, or anything related to academics. Because I’m a shallow little idiot.

That might have been the headache talking.

Her acerbic response seemed to surprise him. He looked down at her as though considering what to say next, but finally decided not to say anything.

Smart man.

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