Bugs didn’t rank high on Kennedy’s list, either. But that was what he had to study if he wanted to ace his final exam. Bugs. He guessed he was missing something, because he couldn’t see how it was important for him to know that the common housefly’s scientific name was Musca domestica. He wanted to be a game biologist, not an entomologist. And besides, who in his right mind would say, “Somebody needs to get those darned Musca domestica out of the ceiling lights?” Nobody, not even Wyatt, the self-made scholar, would know what he meant.

Kennedy closed the book with a little more force than necessary. He was tired of reading. He’d been at it for so many hours that his vision was blurring. His stomach was also rumbling with hunger, which wasn’t unusual. He had a big appetite, and food didn’t stick to his ribs very long. That was especially true tonight, because it had been Tex’s turn to cook, and he’d made macaroni and cheese, one of Kennedy’s favorites, but he’d ruined the whole pot by dumping in a bunch of canned tuna. Yuck. Kennedy liked tuna in a sandwich or creamy casserole, but he didn’t want fish mixed into his cheesy comfort food. Even the lingering smells of their meal turned his stomach.

Abandoning his textbook, he pushed up from the chair and advanced on the cupboards, which Wyatt kept well stocked with snacks. Only Kennedy felt the need for something more substantial than cookies or chips, so he decided to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That meant he’d need to make two. Four Toes, Slade’s rescued black bear, dearly loved PB&Js, his favorite treat next to a squeeze bottle of ketchup. Kennedy laid paper towels out on the Formica counter, not because they didn’t have cutting boards, but because he was lazy and hated washing the darned things. He saw no point in making a sandwich on a stupid board when he could do it this way, save himself work, and use the towels as a napkin as he ate.

After making a second sandwich for Four Toes, with extra jelly because that was the best part as far as the bear was concerned, Kennedy took a huge bite of his own. He expected a satisfying burst of flavor to fill his mouth, only it didn’t taste all that great. What he really wanted was a big, juicy cheeseburger and a large order of fries. Normally he wouldn’t consider driving clear into Mystic Creek for only that. Going back and forth to college in Crystal Falls already had his gasoline expenses skyrocketing, and he needed to watch his budget. But he also had to take into account that he hadn’t treated himself to anything special in a while. Studying and working. Working and studying. Sometimes a guy just needed to say to hell with all of it and take an evening off. Besides, the Mystical Burger Shack had recently been remodeled into one of those old-fashioned drive-ins where people could pull into the parking lot, order over an intercom, and eat in their cars. Kennedy hadn’t seen the renovations yet, let alone eaten there. That meant he hadn’t gone out for a cheeseburger in months.