The Spectrum Force Volume Four by Heather Ray (read the beginning after the end novel TXT) 📖

, right, Keith?"

Keith flinched at his girlfriend's display, turning just in time to watch her disappear into Matthew's room. With a soft huff he turned back to the screen only to see the samurai deliver the blow that finally felled his character.

"Hey

!" he growled, glaring at Craig.

"Mitsurugi wins," the video game announcer crooned.

Craig smirked at his roommate, his dark gaze anything but apologetic. "You snooze, you lose, man!"

Keith grumbled something unintelligible as he tossed the controller to Jocelyn. She watched Keith stand up, marching to the refrigerator with a petulant stomp in his step.

Biting back laughter at Keith's expense, Jocelyn planted herself beside Craig and waited for the menu screen to load. "I guess he's still in the doghouse for forgetting her birthday, huh?"

Craig shook his head. "He sure as hell better impress her with this one, or he may not get a third try!"

Jocelyn leaned closer to the athlete, an eager grin on her face. "So... what's he got planned?"

Craig shrugged. "Didn't breathe a word about it. I guess it's a surprise... unless he forgot all about it."

Jocelyn perused the menu of playable characters in the game. "What do you have planned for the big V-Day? Gonna sweep some cheerleader off her feet?"

Another casual shrug. "It's just another day, Jocelyn. I'll be sitting right here, watching the Knicks game. You?"

"Nothing special."

Craig spared his young friend a glance, noting how her amused grin had smoothed into a passive mask. She couldn't keep a hint of disappointment from embittering her words.

"So when's the next quiz?" Matthew inquired, flipping through a wire notebook.

"Tuesday." The theater student grimaced. "Can you believe it? Not only does this woman subject us to six quizzes a term, but she even decided to schedule one the day after Valentine's Day! That means I have to squeeze some major studying in this weekend!"

Matt grinned. "Big plans with Keith?"

Her expression tightened. "There'd better

be," she answered cryptically.

Matt wisely decided not to appease his burning curiosity with questions. "Don't worry about it; I'm sure you'll catch on quickly." He held the notebook to her, already open to the applicable page. "I've got the syllabus inserted in the front, so you can compare the dates and topics with what you're reviewing. I've dated my class notes in the margins, so it looks like we should start with the September 27th notes. When are you free to study?"

"A.S.A.P." she answered eagerly.

Matt chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Okay, let's say seven o'clock. That'll give me some time to have dinner and get organized, and you can review the notebook and see what makes sense, and what doesn't."

Tamara enveloped the freshman in a tight hug. "You're a lifesaver, Matt!"

She then clutched the notebook tightly, breezed through the common room, offered hurried greetings to Craig, Jocelyn, and Keith, and left.

Matt emerged from his room, taking a seat on the couch. He grinned as Jocelyn guided the lithe warrior Kilik into a fierce attack pattern that cornered Mitsurugi.

"Dammit!" Craig groused, his expression thunderous.

"I got winner!" Matt called.

With a heavy sigh, Rachel stuffed the last package of pencils into the cardboard box. "That just about does it," she reported, folding the flaps to secure the contents, "Do we have an estimate yet?"

Chris Greyson held up a manila folder. "We picked up another two hundred entries today. Give or take a dozen."

Rachel grimaced, her dark eyes sliding from the folder to her watch. "Why does everyone wait until the last minute?"

Chris smirked. "I always thought procrastination was one of the tenets of college life."

Rachel was far from amused. "I knew we should've made the deadline earlier," she commented, taking the folder from Chris. She balanced it on top of the cardboard box, and lifted them both from the tabletop. "These last minute forms need to be processed tonight, so we pick the winner tomorrow morning and find the closest match."

She then turned to her companion. "So I'll see you tomorrow at eight? The whole Committee needs to be there for the final selection."

Chris watched as Rachel moved toward the Walk. "Wait, you're going to enter all those forms in now

? By yourself?"

"It's Friday night," Rachel pointed out, "Everyone else on the Committee was busy."

"You never asked me," he noted.

Rachel turned around, feeling the need to explain herself. "I didn't even know you were on the Committee until you showed up this morning."

"Yeah, I did sign on pretty late in the game," he admitted. Before Rachel could protest, he took the burden from her arms. "This'll give me the chance to make up for it."

Rachel eyed him somewhat suspiciously. "I wasn't fishing for help, Chris."

He almost laughed aloud. "I can tell that's not your style. But hey, I don't have any plans tonight, so why not? The work will go twice as fast, and we can order some Chinese. I don't know about you, but I'm starving!"

Surprised by his persistence, her feet stayed rooted as Chris continued to walk toward the office for the Valentine's Day Giveaway. After several steps, he turned around. "What's wrong? If you don't want Chinese, we could always get a pizza..."

"No," she said finally, shaking off her stupor, "Chinese is fine." She caught up with him, a hesitant grin forming as she added. "Thanks for the help."

They continued to walk in silence, listening to the tap of their shoes against the pavement and the occasional passerby. As they walked, Rachel did her best to conquer the unease that sat in the pit of her stomach.

What the hell is my problem? He's Tammy's

friend...I shouldn't be so gun-shy.

Of course, Tamara's obvious attempts to force some sort of Love Connection caused Rachel to search for hidden meaning behind Chris' every word and action.

And there was one question Rachel had been burning to ask since that morning, when he arrived at the entry table in a red T-shirt like the rest of the staff. "What made you sign up for the Committee?" she asked point-blank.

"I'm stalking you."

When Rachel froze dead in her tracks, Chris began to laugh. "I'm kidding!" he swore, "Sorry... I couldn't resist. You should see your face

right now!"

Rachel glared at him as he regained his composure.

"Gwen Kaul asked me to help out yesterday," he answered, referring to the Committee's chairperson. "There seems to be a record number of applicants this year. I guess everyone wants the first Valentine's Day of the millennium to be special."

Rachel couldn't refute that point, and his explanation helped her relax a little. "So you know Gwen too? Seems like you're friends with everyone on campus."

Chris smiled, taking her comment as a compliment. "I'm working on it."

When Rachel folded her arms, obviously growing tense, Chris decided to latch on to the newest factor they had in common. "So how do you know Gwen?"

"We were roommates freshman year," she revealed. "We were assigned one of the basement rooms in Newton House."

Chris winced as he remembered the freshman dorm. "I've seen broom closets bigger than those rooms!"

Rachel grinned. "I always told Gwen she'd missed her calling by becoming a literature major. She really should've been an architect. The way she arranged the desks, dressers, and beds was the stuff of legends on our floor; would you believe she even managed to fit a couch

in our room?"

He stared at her. "Rachel, that's not possible."

"It was a small

couch; one from the lounge down the hall..."

Chris stopped short. "Wait a minute; are you trying to tell me that you stole

a couch from the Newton Lounge, and put it in your dorm room??"

A guilty moue tightened her lips. "We borrowed

one of the many

couches from the lounge. It was never taken out of the building... Gwen and I figured it was no big deal."

Chris chuckled at Rachel's embarrassed excuse. "I never would've guessed you were even capable of stealing school property! Gwen's been known to do some crazy things, but you...?"

She gazed forward, not even glancing at him. "You don't know me, Chris."

And suddenly, an impenetrable wall appeared between them, putting a swift end to the casual conversation. Rachel drew away from him, holding open the door to the office building. As he passed her, he noticed she kept her eyes off him.

There's that avoidance reflex kicking in,

he realized with a touch of disappointment. And we were actually breaking the ice...

He decided to take a figurative step back, into more comfortable territory. "You know what? I don't believe any of it," he decided.

Startled by the sharp turn, Rachel stared at him blankly. "Any of what?"

"There's no way

you and Gwen stole a couch and shoved it into that shoebox of a dorm."

She stared at him for a long moment, noticing his teasing grin. Slowly, an answering grin appeared. "Tell you what, Chris... next time you pass by Newton House, pay a visit to room 004. I wouldn't be surprised if the current occupants have left the same arrangement to maximize space. They probably even 'stole' a couch of their own!"

He smirked. "I'll take you up on that."

Moments later, the pair arrived at the office housing all the equipment and files for the annual giveaway. Rachel unlocked the double doors, again holding one open to allow Chris through. He set the cardboard box on the nearest flat surface and began flipping through entries as Rachel turned on the lights and computer.

"So, what's the process?" Chris inquired.

"First, we feed the forms into the computer for processing. That's how we're going to narrow down the options to a reasonable number. Then, we sort these hard copies by gender, and then number, covering the names with masking tape and peeling off the ID tags on top.