Izzy hated many things.

One of them being group projects.

Mixing socialising with work was like mixing vodka with chalk- unpleasant and unreasonable. The majority of people in her business class and practically any class, were scared, if not, intimidated by her. Which was fine with Izzy, but not so fine if it meant nobody would speak up to offer an idea if she offered one.

She didn't enjoy the chance of being stuck with all the workload in that situation. So if it happened, Izzy would rely on Colleen, one out of her very small circle of friends, to be a buffer. Colleen Sylvester was in ways the complete opposite of Izzy; nothing about the girl was threatening and she'd probably throw chalk in her drink just for the fun of it.

Unfortunately, Colleen wasn't in her business class so Izzy was left having to slip into a group who simply didn't have enough numbers. Brian, who seemed to be the one-in-charge kind of guy, was who the rest relied on to decide things.

There was always one or two and knew how to handle the mood or carry it so Izzy wasn't surprised he constantly put the most effort to make her feel 'included'. Izzy generally didn't mind it so long as it meant she wasn't shouldering everything.

Up until Brian decided to hold their next meeting at a coffee shop. The very coffee shop Izzy avoided like the plague for reasons being, the vibe and basic scent of caffeine made her itch. Though in recent times, it had been because of him.

Brian had everyone's attention fully immersed on the scheme he'd drawn up. The project was an easy A, requiring you to successfully obtain a loan from a real bank for a business proposal. Though, partially she could see some were feigning interest, obvious signs in their over eagerness to compensate not coming up with a plan themselves in favour of attending a party the night before.

Izzy threw another glance over her shoulder to the counter and it was impossible not to take him in. His shoulders broad, supported by his muscles shaped out on the thin striped shirt and apron. While his face offered a very generic profile, with his crew cut that was in need of a trim and tattoos peeking through his low collar shirt, he could draw a large pool of attention.

He was finishing up an order of latte with cream when his pale green eyes skipped. They locked gazes. He bore a boy-ish grin, throwing a wave with his large hands. A fucking wave.

Izzy narrowed her eyes, carefully shaking her head at him. He seemed to catch the signal, smile fading as he lowered his hand.

She sighed, turning away to face her peers. No eyes were on her, everybody still focused on Brian and she didn't let her gaze digress to the counter again.

**

"Oh, sorry. I forgot my wallet," said Darrell with an offhanded shrug.

Out of everybody in the group, Izzy fought the hardest to tolerate him. He chewed gum constantly and the sound of it smacking against his lips like a carp fish made her want to sew them shut with a staple. This was the umpteenth time he'd 'forgotten his wallet', the lack of creative in excuses was just insulting. The others could tell by now too but being a cheapskate wasn't necessarily the worst, if it weren't for the fact he ordered more than anybody else.

"That's okay, Darrell. I got it covered." Brian kept his tone calm and cool, annoyance inconceivable with that dimple smile of his.

Izzy was sure underneath Brian wanted to throttle the tool. She was sure of it.

"Thanks, man." Darrell leaned for one of those 'Bro' fist bumps while everyone was bringing out their share to foot the bill. "Hey, mind spotting me for a refill on the smoothie?"

Normally, Izzy would be making her exit now but she had some business to attend to and figured why not use the opportunity to her advantage? "I'll cover Doug's smoothie," she said as she rose to haul the emptied drinks onto the tray.

Several eyes fell on her, few visibly tensing at hearing her speak for what was probably a first. Darrell recoiled to open those flounder lips, mustering every ounce of courage he had. "Hey, it's Darrell."

Izzy passed him a sharp look. "What did you just say?"

It was enough for the worm to shrink into the booth, face paled and any of the hollow machinist wiped right off. "N-Nothing."

Izzy didn't bother to relish in it, momently catching what looked like awe on Brian's face as she moved over to the counter.

The place had been far less busy than when they'd showed up that there was no line and Spencer was passing time by using his phone. He definitely sensed her approach, but didn't take his eyes off the screen as she said,
"Can I get a refill on the mango smoothie?"

"We don't do refills for anything other than coffee that's extra large," Spencer mechanically replied.

"Fine. How much does it cost?"

"Ten dollars."

For fucking blended fruit? Goddamn daylight robbery. A scoff left her lips as she slid the dollar bill over and only at catching the movement by the corner of his eye, did Spencer glance up. Immediately, he dropped his phone and straightened up. "Hey, I-"

"Stop." She let out in a low hiss. "No small talk, just make the stupid smoothie."

He stared for a moment, the raw bemusement in his eyes didn't last for long, more than used to her tone. He nodded, plastering on a customer service smile and spun round to prepare the frozen mangos, bananas and milk into the blender. It didn't take more than a few minutes before he revealed his face, a plastic cup filled to the brim with pasty, bright orange sludge.

Grimacing, she reached her hand for it as he said, "It wouldn't have hurt to wave back. What, am I like a dad you're too embarrassed to show around your cool new friends?"

"They're not my friends. You've met all two of them."

Something in his expression shifted- no, intensified and his mouth was parting open to get out a sentence but Izzy quickly turned to leave.

Once she'd returned to the group, everybody was buzzing in conversation about whatever plans they had next. Darrell muttered a brisk "thanks" for the smoothie and hightailed off with his closest comrade of the bunch, Simon with the rest clearing out in tow. Brian was the only one still lingering by while Izzy gathered her bag and notebook.

"... You need a lift? I-"

"No." It flew off a little harsher, even by her standards. She recoiled to face Brian, he looked a bit less confident which Izzy couldn't deny taking a pinch of pleasure in. "Thanks but I'm good, really."

Tension left Brian's shoulder as he salvaged a small smile. "Next time then."

Wow, he bounced back from that real quick.

Brian even made his exit sleek, flashing a wink as he strode on out and she kept her eyes on the smooth motherfucker until it disappeared behind the door. She resigned to sit back down, phone out to dial up an Uber when a text came in.

An unsaved number.

My shift ends in ten, I can give you a ride

What?

Izzy's brows deeply furrowed, trying to make sense of it with an answer that didn't involve who she suspected it was. She dared herself to glance and Spencer's eyes were already on her.

She looked away, planning to just call for an Uber anyway but she'd already nipped at her budget over that smoothie and on the odd chances she booked her Uncle Angelo, came with its own hassle. The man would insist he couldn't dare take his niece's money, with pride no man in his late fifties struggling with a second divorce should have.

Not to mention, the curiosity was too much not to get answers. So she stayed waiting, people roaming in and out then once the clock was directly on three o'clock, Spencer had gone off into the back room.

He reappeared with a burgundy jacket, hope gleaming in those eyes and just the tiniest edge of smugness as he motioned to her with a nod.

Izzy begrudgingly followed after, his build towered the masses on the street but he was fast and she almost missed it when he rounded a corner. A distinct blue truck was parked in the lane, Spencer pulling open the front passenger seat.

"Thanks for waiting," he said.

"How did you know what Brian was saying to me?" Izzy went straight to ask. The distance between their booth and the counter was far too much a stretch for him to have heard a thing.

"I guessed from the vibe. Interesting to see what it looks like when you shoot someone down from the spectator view." He sounded genuinely amused by it.

Izzy simply climbed in to the seat, his weighted steps in those winter boots he wore despite it being March, slapped the tarmac as he jogged over to the driver's side. The scent of his cologne seemed to have changed though; formerly it was a softer, gentler scent like lemongrass but now it was that common musky woodsy stuff the frat guys usually had.

Well, high in demand was high for a reason. Not that it mattered.

"Even if it was a 'guess', you were pretty sure I would agree," she said. Acts of cockiness like that weren't common with Spencer, mostly because she'd taught him it was better to be cautious than cocky around her.

Did she need to kick it up a notch?

"Colleen mentioned your car was getting serviced," he said. "I figured you'd rather save your cash, even if it's me."

Ah. Now that added up.

In hindsight, Izzy should've expected it be Colleen to share her business. Usually, the redhead knew to refrain when it was somebody Izzy made it clear she didn't approve of but Spencer got to be a different case. A special little snowflake, all thanks to his best friend hooking up with their best friend in the trio.

It was a scenario that wouldn't be so cumbersome if Spencer just, y'know, stayed at a respective line and didn't interact more than necessary. That was the whole problem with Spencer Hull. He was a tragic case of that ill-bred disease of nice guys but not even with the expectation of getting in a girl's pants. After all, he was dating Janice, Juliette or whatever her name was, that was sex on a stick.

No, Spencer went above and beyond to cater people's whims all for the sake of superficial validation. Izzy could only wonder how many birthdays his parents failed to remember for such an arguably, stable man to be so starved of affection.

People like him was why she clung onto psychology classes, there was this primal need to maybe one day, take up a clinical post to study what made these specimens tick.

"Y'know," Spencer started. "If you need a ride anywhere, you can just call me. Or if I'm busy, I can get you a spare set of the keys to the truck."

She blinked up at him. He was actually being completely serious about this, as if they were long-time friends and not two people who'd had a couple of 'conversations' that were usually more awkward than anything.

He spared a glance in expectancy and that gleam of hope she could never fully snuff out. God, it was sickening.

"Wouldn't your girlfriend be uncomfortable with you doing that?" Izzy pointed out.

His eyes dimmed a bit, turning back to the road. "We broke up. So, it's not a problem."

Well then.

Thus, their scheduled moment of awkwardness ensued with Izzy's gaze aimlessly wandering around the space. Rather than let it die, Spencer opened his mouth. "Guess I should've seen it coming. Beck and everybody else said they'd been making bets on how long it'd last. Should've taken the hint when she put money on a date as a 'joke'."

Izzy simply stared at the window, the gentle hum of the engine filling up the lapse before he cleared his throat. "... Sorry, that was a bit much, wasn't it?" She could tell he was probably still trying to smile, even if his voice was miserable.

"It's fine."

Since she'd been the one to steer the topic that way, an apology would be in order, naturally but Izzy didn't feel particularly sorry about his dismal relationship. Janice or Juliette seemed like a bitch, which wasn't a bad thing but she was just too pretty for her own good.

Spencer had set himself up for an inevitable fall, having nobody to blame but him. So in turn, Izzy broke the silence to say, "You can just drop me off at Pines Birch."

"The park?"

"Yeah, it's close to my apartment and I'd rather you didn't know exactly where I lived."

"... Okay, that's fair."

"I know."

He let out a soft, chuckle that ended up turning into a small coughing fit. Ironic his lungs didn't seem in such great shape when it was his friend who used to smoke like a chimney. Maybe it was bad genes or overexposure from whatever fumes he inhaled at that tattoo studio he slaved away during the night.

The guy was just a series of misfortune ends and bad kinks in his head. Which Izzy didn't hate at all.