Grayson turned around. The girl speaking was called Madison Pierce, who was also in the tennis club.
At that moment, Madison looked at Grayson, her face full of contempt for him.
Madison didn't have any particular talents or strengths, but she was skilled at attaching herself to impressive people. For example, in the tennis club, Madison was the little tagalong of the club president, Quinn. Whatever Quinn liked, she liked; whatever Quinn despised, she despised; if Quinn said something was good, she would echo it; if Quinn said something was bad, she would agree it was bad.
Standing next to Madison was Quinn herself.
"What are you doing?"
Quinn was surprised to bump into Grayson here.
"I…"
Grayson wanted to say he had come here to pick up some takeout food to bring back to eat, but if he said that, it would only invite more suspicion from them. After all, this Italian restaurant was very upscale and expensive; in Quinn's mind, there was no way Grayson could possibly have enough money to eat here.
"Hey, Quinn, can't you see it?" Madison's big mouth started running again. "Look at what he's holding in his hand: a crushed soda can. He's definitely out here collecting garbage—five cents a can."
Quinn nodded, fully agreeing with Madison's speculation.
Yes, if he wasn't collecting trash, then what else could he be doing here—eating? That was even more impossible.
Quinn slipped her hands into her pockets and cocked her head to scrutinize Grayson: his clothes were in tatters, his shoes covered in dust, and he was clutching a dented soda can in his hand. He truly looked like someone born to collect garbage.
In her heart, she couldn't help but think, "This guy is such a loser; my cousin's choice to pretend he's her boyfriend really does show good judgment. After all, if Dylan saw my cousin walking with a nobody like this, he'd be so upset he'd probably vomit blood. The more of a loser this guy is, the better the chance my cousin has with Dylan."
She reminded herself that her cousin had been busy with bank training these past few days, so she hadn't had time to actually "date" this guy. Once her cousin had the time, she'd go on a date with him around here, let Dylan see, and once Dylan got jealous and started chasing her, the plan would be a success.
"All right, hurry back to school!"
Quinn waved her hand, signaling for Grayson to leave. To be honest, she was only speaking civilly to him because of her cousin's scheme. Normally, she had no desire to talk to Grayson at all; even when she did speak to him, it was only to order him to do things. Right now, Quinn certainly didn't want to linger with Grayson.
Grayson felt a bit dejected. He had originally planned to pick up some food to-go to eat with Jasmine, but now that he'd run into Quinn, he might as well forget it and go find another restaurant. The problem was, his car had just been driven away by the valet to be parked—he couldn't just walk off and leave it.
Meanwhile, Quinn and Madison seemed to be waiting at the restaurant entrance for someone; they had no intention of leaving. With them blocking the way, Grayson couldn't go retrieve his car either. For a moment, he was stuck in a dilemma.
"Why aren't you leaving yet?!"
Quinn was indeed waiting for someone. Now that she saw Grayson still standing there dumbly, she felt a surge of irritation. Suddenly, she realized: could it be that because last time she had introduced him to her cousin as a fake boyfriend—and her cousin had pretended to accept him—this guy really thought he was her cousin's fiancé? So he was clinging to her?
At that thought, Quinn felt even more disdain for Grayson. This guy—he was just being used. There was no way he actually believed that she and her cousin genuinely liked him!
Quinn was about to scold Grayson further.
Just then, a lithe girl approached from the opposite bus stop. She was wearing a loose white shirt, its hem tucked into bubble shorts, and a pair of white sneakers—giving her a very artsy vibe.
"Quinn!"
The girl waved enthusiastically as she carefully crossed the street.
"Lauren!"
It was Lauren. When Lauren reached them, her gaze immediately fell on Grayson.
"Grayson!"
Lauren ran over excitedly. "I never expected you'd be here too!"
Instantly, Quinn's expression turned sour.
"Lauren, you've got it wrong. Grayson didn't come here with us. We just happened to meet him here," Quinn said.
"Yeah, Quinn's right—Brandon didn't invite Grayson, and Grayson never joins our group meals. He's here to pick up garbage," Madison chimed in, pointing accusingly at the crumpled soda can in Grayson's hand, then giving Grayson a push. "Grayson, why aren't you leaving?"
"Hey, what difference does it make? Everyone here knows Grayson. Since he's already here, let's all go in and eat together," Lauren insisted. Quinn had no choice but to relent.
"Fine, whatever, just don't embarrass yourself," Quinn said, eager to see Brandon, and no longer wanted to say more. The four of them went into the restaurant and found the table that had already been reserved.
Quite a few people were already there—members of the tennis club, both boys and girls.
Brandon stood out among the crowd, wearing a linen half-sleeve blazer, a Bentley patterned gold watch glittering on his wrist, and his hair slicked back. Seeing Quinn, Brandon brushed through the crowd and came over, flattering, "Quinn, now that you're here, the whole restaurant lights up."
Last time, Brandon had driven an Audi A4 to the tennis courts to pick up Quinn and the others for a ride, which had brought them closer. Now this dinner provided another good opportunity to capitalize on that momentum.
"Grayson?"
Then, seeing Grayson, Brandon paused in surprise.
"Why is he here?" Brandon glanced at Quinn. Obviously, he assumed Grayson had come in with Quinn, since Quinn was president of the club. Quinn immediately realized Brandon's implication. She suddenly felt some resentment toward Grayson: if Brandon misunderstood because of him, it would be a big loss. Ever since Brandon drove up in that Audi A4 last time, Quinn had developed a little crush on him. Her cousin's guy, Dylan Mercer, had been working for years and still only drove a BMW 3; yet Brandon, still just a student, was already driving an Audi A4. Ha—if she and Brandon became a real pair, it would be miles better than her cousin's match.
Seeing Brandon's displeasure, Quinn quickly explained that Grayson had come with Lauren.
"Forget it, he's here now anyway. Fortunately, it's a treat from my friend today; if it were a split-the-bill situation, haha…" Brandon waved his hand and began arranging seats for everyone to sit down.
Although they were all students, there were unspoken rules about seating. Everyone knew this dinner was being paid for by Brandon's friend. Moreover, Brandon was the vice president of the club, drove an Audi, and Quinn seemed to be into him. Naturally, everything revolved around Brandon. Where each person sat was decided by Brandon and Quinn. The others simply obeyed.
"Grayson, you can sit over there."
Quinn placed herself next to Brandon, then pointed to a seat and told Grayson. Grayson said nothing. Although he was not exactly welcome, with Lauren here he still felt relatively comfortable.
"I'll just sit next to Grayson, then."
Lauren said, and naturally sat down beside Grayson.
However, Quinn frowned. "Lauren, don't sit there—sit next to me." She pointed to the seat on her other side.
"It's fine, this spot's okay," Lauren smiled.
"That seat is right by the entrance. When the waiter brings food out later, they might bump you, and you could get your clothes dirty!" Quinn warned.
Immediately, the air grew tense. Everyone looked at Grayson and Quinn. Naturally, the looks aimed at Grayson were full of mockery and schadenfreude. Lauren's face also flushed slightly, showing some displeasure. "If this spot is for serving dishes, then isn't Grayson risking having his clothes dirtied by sitting here?"
"Hey, Lauren, Grayson is here to mooch a meal. He wasn't even invited," said a boy—Matthew Johnson, who all along had looked down on Grayson. As soon as he learned that Grayson had been brought in by Lauren, Matthew's displeasure only grew. The first time Matthew saw Lauren on the tennis courts, he'd wanted to pursue her. Yet Lauren seemed more interested in this loser, Grayson, which infuriated Matthew to no end.
"Besides, look at the state of Grayson's clothes. If they get dirty, so what? But you, Lauren, it's different for you," Matthew continued.
"Come on and sit down," Quinn hurried Lauren over and sat next to her. Lauren had no choice—after all, she was good friends with Quinn—so she moved over meekly. Meanwhile, Matthew was overjoyed, quickly sliding into the empty seat on Lauren's other side. He exclaimed loudly, "Then I'll sit here!"
After saying that, he was perfectly pleased, scheming in his mind how he could cozy up to Lauren now. Such a great opportunity couldn't be missed.
However, at that moment—
"Johnson, get the hell up! Move!" Brandon suddenly shouted sharply.
With that, everyone's attention turned to Matthew. Matthew was stunned too. Seeing that Brandon was scolding him, he didn't dare argue, though he was very unwilling. He stammered, "Brandon, someone has to sit there, right? You're sitting next to Quinn, and you won't sit here. Let me sit here, please."
"Get lost!" Brandon didn't even treat Matthew as a person. "Is that seat yours? It's reserved for my friend. My friend will be here any second. You find a seat that's meant for you!"
Hearing that the seat was for Brandon's friend, Matthew didn't dare stay there. He could only move away in shame, his face burning.
At that moment, everyone had taken their seats except for the spot next to Lauren, which remained empty.
"Don't worry, everyone. My friend just got back from abroad and just got off the plane—he's on his way. To be honest, he's the one treating us tonight!" Brandon said.
"No rush, no rush. We're not even hungry yet, haha," someone who was good at making conversation chimed in.
"Yeah, no rush. Brandon, let your friend take his time—he must be tired after that flight."
"Right, we can all wait for him."
One after another, the others echoed.
Just then, the door to the private dining room opened.
"Hello!"
A boy wearing a bright yellow streetwear hoodie and a Paul Frank hat walked in. Under the hat, his hair was dyed yellow. His face was thin, and at a glance, he looked somewhat monkey-faced.
"Come on, let me introduce everyone—this is my friend, Jordan Ramirez!" Brandon stood up excitedly and said.
Immediately, everyone applauded to welcome him.
"Jordan, here's the seat saved for you—go ahead and sit." Brandon pointed to the spot next to Lauren.
Jordan plopped down, then his gaze landed on Lauren. His eyes roamed over her, and then he chuckled, "Hey there, are you Lauren?"