Solvei giggles. "Aristotle. Nice. You're a treasure, Matt."

Econ proceeds as usual. 

The lacrosse coach is not incompetent as a teacher, but he's probably not much help to Solvei. If she's interested, she'll have to study the subject independently. 

Luckily for Solvei, he mostly calls on his players for answers. 

She is content to be no more than adequately educated in this subject. For now.

She will be adequately educated.

Matt will answer the majority of the questions, as one of three lacrosse players in the class.

They will part ways, as you do. 

There's Boyd and his clarinet, as usual. 

Solvei smiles at him and continues being a brilliant cellist.

Then: lunch. She brings truffles. There are enough for everyone, and she is determined that no one who wants a truffle will have to suffer the lack.

Lonely Friend appreciates the gesture, and compliments her on her friendliness, but declines to sample. 

Spite Friend will have just one, and thinks they taste delicious. 

Paranoid Friend has another truffle, and convinces Cooking Friend to give him his.

Cooking Friend sheepishly comes back for another.

Combat Friend and Danny enjoy their truffles, and offer Solvei her usual seat.

Good, good. (She keeps an eye on Scott to make sure he is able to consume his second truffle uninterrupted.)

Is Literature Enemy around? If he is, she should offer him a truffle and apologize.

He's sleeping at his table, alone.

Or pretending to sleep. 

Can she tell the difference? 

And there's Matt, eating alone. 

At yet another otherwise empty table.

It's amazing how they have so many tables to go around.

Well, she leaves a truffle for Literature Enemy and continues her rounds. By either coincidence or subtle machinations - you decide! - she fetches up at Matt's table last, and sits down and plonks the box of remaining truffles on the table next to her tray.

"How's Project Befriend Beacon Hills going so far?" 

"Very well, I think! Truffle?"

"Don't mind if I do."

He scans the tableau briefly.

"What kind of flavors are there?"

"Raspberry, caramel, candied ginger..." She rattles off the whole list, pointing at each.

He tries the raspberry.

"Well done. I sort of suspected that after everything else, you couldn't cook this well, too. Guess you've proven me wrong."

"I like to be good at things. It's satsifying."

"I'm pretty satisfied, yeah."

"Good! That's the intended outcome."

"You've only been here a couple of days, but I can already tell this town is never going to be the same." 

"The highest of compliments," she says, beaming.

And lunch is had by most, in varying degrees of companionship.