Before I could answer, Cassandra, sitting nearby, interjected sharply, "Ugh, the poorer someone is, the more they like heavy, spicy flavors. Miss Winters, that smell is awful. Maybe take it outside?"
The irony wasn't lost on me—Ethan was just craving these very dishes moments ago, yet Cassandra now used them as a class insult. I wondered if he would defend me or his own preferences.
He did neither, sitting in uncomfortable silence as Cassandra continued her tirade against my "low-class" food choices.
I licked my lips provocatively and deliberately stirred the pot. "Miss Evans, it seems you don't really know Ethan. Why don't you ask him if he likes spicy food?"
Cassandra looked stunned and turned to Ethan, clearly expecting him to side with her refined palate. His brow twitched, unw
