The Unexpected Variable

The Unexpected VariableEastwood U Book 1Callan Rowe Copyright © 2023 Callan RoweAll rights reserved.This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, distributed, stored in any retrieval system, transmitted, or used in any manner or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.To request permissions, email [email protected] Publishing, LLCDisclaimerThis is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or deceased), businesses, companies, events, products, and locales is entirely coincidental.Paperback ISBN: 9798377827009ASIN: B0BW2Q6TNCEdited by: Maddie CasoCover Art by: Heather TerranovaPrinted by Kindle Direct Publishing in the USA.Visit the author’s website at www.authorcallanrowe.com To all the grown-ups who taught us to follow our dreams.Please skip chapters 27 & 28. Contents Title PageCopyrightDedicationAuthor's NoteChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeChapter Twenty-FourChapter Twenty-FiveChapter Twenty-SixChapter Twenty-SevenChapter Twenty-EightChapter Twenty-NineChapter ThirtyChapter Thirty-OneChapter Thirty-TwoEpilogueAbout The AuthorAcknowledgementSneak Peek Author's NoteThe Unexpected Variable is a full-length, standalone college romance featuring forced proximity and a guaranteed HEA. This sweet and spicy novel contains mature themes that are only suitable for readers 18+, including: profanity, explicit sexual content, recreational drug and alcohol use. Chapter OneQuinn“Runner, please!”I jerk my head up and see César, our line cook, glaring at me over the window pass separating the kitchen from the dining room. From the look on his face and the volume at which he’s yelling, I’m guessing this isn’t the first time he’s tried to get my attention. I glance at the window, and sure enough the food I’m waiting on for table 22 is lined up and waiting for me to run it. With a sigh, I close the statistics textbook that wasn’t making much sense anyway and get back to work.“You know,” César starts as I begin loading up a tray, “Boss man won’t be happy if she catches you studying on the clock. Besides, isn’t it still summer?”I roll my eyes. “You know Byrdie doesn’t mind as long as it doesn’t interfere with me getting the job done. And classes start tomorrow.” Byrdie also left last week for her condo in Florida, so I’m not too concerned about César’s warning.Still, it’s never a good idea to piss off the person who makes the food, so I hurry to pull the baskets full of burgers and fries out of the window pass and onto a round tray. The baskets are blue to match the bright color of the booths, the stripes on our uniforms, and the neon lights that wrap around the building. Byrdie’s Diner looks like the type of place where the servers should be wearing roller skates, but luckily, we’re stuck with restaurant standard non-slip sneakers.I hurry over to drop table 22’s food off and check in on my other tables on my way back. I pause to take a six-top’s order before rushing back to 22 with extra napkins and a side of ranch. Then I get to work mixing the chocolate shake that table 15 tacked on when I walked by. As I move the metal tin up and down the arm of the mixer, I think more about what César said. Even if Byrdie were here to catch me reading, I doubt she would fire me. But I can’t take that chance because I need this job. Like really, really need this job. I managed to scrounge up enough scholarship money to cover tuition here at Eastwood University, but when I applied, I didn’t realize how many extra costs there would be. Room and board, new books every semester, and all the stupid fees. Technology fees, lab fees, fees that pay for the fancy gym on campus I’ll never have time, or a desire, to use.Eighteen-year-old me was not prepared when I showed up to campus freshman year. I had never left home before and I was way out of my depth. Naively, I assumed all my bills would be taken care of and I could put all my energy towards maintaining the 3.0 GPA needed to keep my scholarships. I guess I should have asked someone about how it all worked, but there weren’t many people in my hometown that went to college. Even less that traveled outside of county lines to do so. Luckily, the one thing I was definitely taught growing up was how to work hard. Every young person in Middleton, Pennsylvania got their first job the minute they turned fifteen and were legally allowed to work. I grew up with a mom that worked two jobs and a grandmother that picked up shifts whenever she wasn’t taking care of me. Needless to say, I’m no stranger to hard work and am more than willing to spend as many shifts waiting tables as it takes to keep me here at Eastwood University. Once I’m satisfied with the consistency of the shake in my hands, I add a dollop of whipped cream and a maraschino cherry before running it out to table 15. A quick glance around the restaurant lets me know that everyone is doing okay. A moment to breathe.Until I notice the pile of clean silverware waiting next to the stack of napkins it needs to be rolled in. Guess it’s time to get started on that. I glance one more time at the textbook I stashed hastily under the counter when César interrupted me. But, he’s right. Classes don’t even start until tomorrow so there’s no reason to get myself stressed out ahead of time. Tomorrow, I’ll focus on crushing my junior year classes and getting accepted to the French department’s study abroad program. But for today, I need to survive this double shift.I set up at the small counter area underneath the window which lets me gaze into the open kitchen as I prepare to roll at least seventy-five