Page 27 of By Any Beans Necessary

"Okay, okay, back to base," Hunter corralled Duchess, leading her toward the oversized dog bed, Danny and Rambler trailing behind with a chagrined Jeff and Winston in tow. The animals settled in, their energy spent, resembling furry angels rather than the instigators of the recent bedlam.

"Can we all focus on the real reason we're here now?" Danny's voice was steady but carried an undercurrent of urgency that drew everyone's attention. "There's something we need to discuss."

"Spill it then," Jeff said, scrubbing a hand through his hair, his eyes locked onto Michelle with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

"Harold Bernstein, that slimy toad from our past, has been playing us," Hunter blurted out.

"Harold? But why—?" Michelle's brows knitted in confusion, her thoughts a whirlwind trying to connect the dots.

"Turns out, he had this...thing for you back in high school." Danny shifted his weight, glancing at Hunter as if seeking backup.

"Thing? You mean a crush?" The word felt foreign on Michelle's tongue, laced with disbelief.

"More like an obsession wrapped in a crush, dipped in jealousy," Hunter interjected, with a grimace that reached all the way to his usually confident eyes.

"Jealousy?" Jeff echoed, folding his arms defensively across his chest—a barrier that seemed more fragile now.

"Yep," Hunter continued. "Danny caught wind of it. Confronted Harold. He confessed to slinging mud just to drive a wedge between you two."

Michelle turned toward Jeff, searching his face for a reaction. His expression was a complex tapestry of shock, hurt, and something else she couldn't place—maybe hope?

"Harold did this? Because of some stupid high school crush?" Jeff's tone was incredulous, yet there was a softness creeping into the edges of his words.

"Apparently, some people never graduate emotionally," Michelle mused, her mind racing with the implications. She could feel the coldness that had settled between them begin to crack, warmth seeping in through the newly exposed fissures.

"So, all this time..." Jeff trailed off, his gaze lingering on hers, searching, questioning. "All this time, it was just a game to him."

Michelle's heart pounded a rapid staccato against her ribs. The revelation sent waves through the room, leaving a silence that buzzed with unspoken possibilities. "Unbelievable," she muttered, shaking her head slowly as if to clear away cobwebs of confusion.

"Believe it," Danny confirmed, nodding once with conviction.

"Wow, talk about juvenile," Jeff scoffed, though his tone carried more amusement than anger now. The absurdity of the situation seemed to bubble up between them, breaking the surface tension of past grievances.

"Guess Harold never got over not being voted 'Most Likely to Succeed.'" Hunter's grin was wry, bringing a collective chuckle from the group.

"Or 'Most Likely to Sabotage Relationships,'" Jeff added, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. His posture relaxed, and his arms unfolded, signaling a truce.

"Is it too late to update the yearbook?" Michelle joked, her laughter mingling with Jeff's. The ice that had formed between them melted away, leaving behind the gentle flow of camaraderie and understanding.

"Never too late for a reunion redo," Hunter quipped, his easy-going nature smoothing over any remaining awkwardness in the room.

"Reunion redo," Michelle repeated to herself, the phrase rolling around in her mind like a sweet possibility. The revelation had shifted something crucial, realigning pieces that had been jumbled by miscommunication and deceit. Now, standing amidst friends and forgiven pets, she and Jeff were on the brink of something new—or perhaps something rediscovered.

The laughter echoing off the walls had dwindled to a soft murmur when Jeff leaned in, his voice a low baritone. "Michelle, can we talk? Just you and me, out back?"

She nodded, heart fluttering like a caged bird eager for release. They slipped away from the warm glow of the Bumblebee into the cool evening air that enveloped the backyard.

"Look, about everything—" they began in unison, then laughed, a single note harmonizing their mutual awkwardness.

"Jinx, you owe me a coffee," Michelle teased, elbowing him gently.

"Only if it's from the Coffee Loft," Jeff quipped, a smile playing on his lips.

"Deal," she said, her breath visible in the crisp night.

"Michelle," Jeff started again, his eyes scanning her face, earnest and open. "I've been a fool. Harold's shenanigans...I should've known better than to fall for that."

"Jeff, we both got played." She shrugged, her voice tinged with regret. "But here we are, right? Clearing the air?"

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