The Ravens (The Ravens #1) - Kass Morgan Page 0,23

building looked more like a church than a cafeteria, and when Vivi pushed open the heavy door, she found herself in an enormous space unlike any she’d seen before. Exposed wooden rafters soared across the ceiling, and twelve-foot-high windows filled the room with sunlight that glinted off the glass vase in the center of every round table. It was as if Martha Stewart had redecorated Hogwarts.

There was no line at the breakfast buffet, where Vivi gleefully filled her plate with scrambled eggs and pancakes. But when she started walking toward one of the many empty tables, she realized she’d made a terrible mistake. There was a waffle bar. What was she doing wasting her time with pancakes when there was a waffle bar? She carefully set her tray down at the bar and began to ladle waffle batter into the iron. There was a loud hiss and she jumped back in surprise as sizzling batter dripped down the sides and spilled onto the table. “Shit,” she said under her breath, unsure what do to. Was it possible to set a building on fire with batter?

“You really are a menace to public safety, aren’t you?”

Vivi’s breath caught as she turned to see the boy who’d carried her bags yesterday grinning at her. “I’m just joking,” he said. “I can tell you have everything under control, though you might want to flip that at some point. Here, allow me.” He reached out and turned the waffle iron over.

“Is this some weird hobby of yours?” Vivi managed to say, regaining some of her composure. “You sneak around campus waiting for girls to embarrass themselves so you can swoop in and be the hero?”

“The hero?” he repeated thoughtfully. “You know what? I like that. Mason Gregory, breakfast hero.” He stuck out his hand. “Saving innocent girls from the indignity of eating slightly misshapen waffles. Excuse me. Duty calls.” He reached past Vivi, opened the iron, carefully removed the golden-brown waffle, and tipped it onto her plate. “Voilà, mademoiselle.”

“Vous êtes trop gentil, monsieur.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re fancy, huh? In that case, allow me to prepare the specialty of the house, waffles à la Mason.” He began to scoop toppings onto Vivi’s waffle, first strawberries, then chocolate chips, then a swirl of whipped cream.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Vivi said with a laugh as she reached for her plate.

“Non, non, mademoiselle,” he said with a terrible French accent as he held the plate in the air. “It is not finished yet.” He carried it over to the cereal bar and sprinkled cornflakes on top.

“What? No!” Vivi said as she tried to grab the plate.

Mason pivoted and managed to add a serving of Lucky Charms before she yanked her breakfast from his grasp. “This is disgusting,” she said, eyeing the concoction.

He looked hurt. “Are you doubting my culinary skills? Just take a bite. It’ll blow your mind.”

“I’ll be sure to report back. Unless . . . are you sitting with anyone?” She paused as her heart began to race, just as it always did when she did something that could potentially end badly. “Do you want to sit together?” The moment the words left her mouth, she immediately regretted saying anything. They’d had a fun exchange, and now she’d ruined everything by being a weirdo.

“I’d be honored,” he said with a smile. “I’m Mason, in case you didn’t catch it earlier.”

“Vivi,” she said.

“Vivi,” Mason repeated. “I like it.”

She followed him to one of the round tables and lowered her tray gingerly, careful not to let her coffee or orange juice slosh over the sides of the cups.

“Ah, freshmen,” Mason said. “So innocent, so lacking in tray-holding muscle memory.” He placed the tray on the table with an exaggerated flourish.

“Are you a sophomore?” Vivi asked.

“Senior.”

“Then how come you haven’t learned how to make an edible waffle by now?”

Mason faked an offended gasp. “How can you say that? You haven’t even tried it yet.” Without asking, he reached across to cut himself a piece. For a moment, Mason’s arm brushed Vivi’s and she felt a spark at the touch.

She ignored the heat in her cheeks at the intimacy of the gesture and was about to cut herself a square when he swallowed his own bite and grimaced.

“Ha! See?” she said. She lowered her knife and fork and picked up a strip of bacon instead.

He smirked. “So, besides attacking people with suitcases and burning waffles, what do you enjoy doing? Are you one of those freshmen with their whole