ᴋʟᴜᴛᴢ | ʟʀʜ

𝟏𝟕. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐧𝐞𝐰

Why did I agree to do this again? Alina groaned, trying to stall by inspecting the paintings on the walls of Ketchup's.

Yet with Luke's hands on her shoulder, pushing her forward, she had no choice but to keep moving.

At the end of lunch — a Cobb salad was her choice — he had dared her to give her "compliments to the chef." And she must add a bit of flair and sultriness, Luke insisted.

I don't know how to flirt though, Alina thought, panicking as they reached the kitchens.

"Hey, Alina. What's up? And Luke, right?" Brad greeted, waving a gloved-covered hand at them. The redhead was chopping some scallions and onions for soup.

Fucking Brad. Of course, her friend from psychology class was the sous chef. Alina grimaced as she imagined seeing him in lectures after this. He better get ready for some awkwardness.

"Brad," Alina started, moving over to rest her arm against the counter he was cutting vegetables on. "Was that you who made me that deliciousss Cobb salad?"

"I mean...probably? I make a lot of salads," Brad joked, glancing up from his speedy knife work to give her a strange look.

Wanting to leave it at that, the small girl made her move to leave but Luke bent down and whispered cheekily, "Not good enough. Sorry."

Alina gave him a scowl before plastering a sweet smile on her face. Fluttering her eyelashes excessively, she leaned towards Brad and simpered, "That looks really good."

"What? The mirepoix?" The muscular guy asked with a forced chuckle, avoiding her strong gaze.

"Sure, that. Can I have a taste...hot stuff?" the girl cringed at her addition but she wanted to sell it. She could practically feel Luke shaking with suppressed laughter. The little shit.

Brad set his knife down next to the mixture of onions, carrots, and celery. "Alina, I don't know what you are doing but why don't you do something I know you can do. Take out the trash for me, will ya?"

"Haha, sure! Yep," Alina's face flushed, feeling like an idiot just standing there awkwardly. She was quick to race over to the trashcans, grabbing the full bags and tying them securely.

Luke followed after her, wiping tears from his sparkling eyes that had formed due to him restraining his wheezes and cackles for so long. "What was that acting, klutz?" He asked, exasperated. Waving his hands in a sort of criss-cross pattern, Luke shouted in an obnoxious accent, "You're never gonna make it!"

"Who are you to judge?" Alina rolled her eyes sassily, hauling two bags of garbage towards the door.

"Excuse me? That's not the way to talk to one of the top five flirting critics in the world!" He spluttered dramatically with an offended look. However, his playful jesting was clear as he helped Alina by taking the second trash bag.

"Flirting critic? You're such a dork," the petite girl giggled, brushing a piece of light brown hair out of her face before yanking the back door open.

Alina was met with a sight that drained all the color out of her rosy cheeks.

A couple was passionately making out in the alley, a few feet away from the grimy green dumpster.

Macy.

Macy, still in her waitress uniform, was pressing a hefty looking guy against the brick wall, peppering his neck with kisses before finding his swollen lips.

Luke behind her, Alina halted in front of him and tried to shield him from seeing Macy by closing the door.

However, he had seen. He had seen everything.