Page 10 of A Barista's Guide to Love & Larceny
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Dani tried. The water fountain was still burbling, a torturous ASMR, and it was clearly vexing Silva, who threw another glance in the perpetrator’s direction.
“I’m sure you do,” Silva said, with the sternness of a mother who wanted her child to admit they’d committed some infraction. “I get the sense that it’s not something you like to talk about, but—” It seemed some threshold of irritation had been reached; Silva spun on her heel toward the boy, whose bottle was overflowing now, tapped him on the shoulder, and said, “I’m sorry, but don’t you think you’ve gotten quite enough?”
She’d touched him only lightly, but the boy slumped over like he’d been pushed, water bottle toppling into the fountain. He caught himself on the wall at the last minute and turned, blinking blearily at the pair of them.
“Oh man, I guess I fell asleep standing up. That’s a first,” he said, wiping his face like he could wipe away the exhaustion. “Ah, shit.” He rescued the drowning water bottle and capped it before staggering away without acknowledging them further. When she turned back to Dani, Silva’s face had clouded, the light in her eyes turning stormy.
“We shouldn’t discuss this here,” she said carefully, her tone shadowed with something that hadn’t been there before, like the professor was resisting the urge to tell her more. “But I know you have ahidden talent, and I have a feeling it’s incredibly useful when you want it to be.”
It was like Dani’s larynx had frosted over, rendering her voice completely unusable.
“I’d like to speak with you in private,” Silva said. “Tomorrow, in my office. Perhaps around two?”
Every cell in Dani’s body screamed at her to say no. Or better yet, to run for cover. But it was too late for that. She’d been discovered, and in such a way that would probably get her kicked out of Fox’s Leap. She forced herself to swallow and unstick her voice box. “I have a class at one thirty,” she said shakily. Silva blinked twice, waiting, so she added, “But I could come by after that.”
Silva nodded. “Two thirty it is. My office is in the oneiromancy department, past the dream lab. Room number six.”
“Six,” Dani repeated. “Okay.”
“Until tomorrow, then,” Silva said, offering a slight smile as a parting token. It did absolutely nothing to reassure Dani, who stood motionless as she watched the professor walk away, open an umbrella, and hurry out into the rain. Dani’s entire body was covered in gooseflesh and the cold slick of fear.
Hecate save me, she thought.No, I’m serious this time. Please save me.
Neither her fear nor the rain showed any mercy for the rest of the day, which meant that when Dani stumbled through the back door of the café at the start of her shift that evening, she was wracked with anxiety and wearing her mustard-colored rain slicker of thrift store provenance. The coat had come with a guarantee that it had been waterproofed by a mage in its previous life, but the spell seemed to have backfired, because she always felt a little moister after wearing it.
The café was packed. The bar was a hot mess, and so were the two baristas running things, both pink-faced and frazzled. Dani sent Amelie, the girl making drinks, on break and slipped gratefully intoher spot behind the espresso machine while Joel stayed on register. Six lattes were waiting to be made, there were almost no beans left in the grinder, and only one steaming pitcher was clean. It was just what she needed to distract her, with her mind tormented by the thought of a professor who could ruin her life with a single report to the school. Suspension, expulsion, a flogging in the quad—nothing was off-limits in Dani’s hysterical hypotheticals.
Oh, and there was also the matter of the cute boy who said he’d come see her again tonight. Even with everything that had happened, she couldn’t help scanning the crowd. Her jaw clenched with disappointment when the search yielded no Kass-related results.
All she could do was throw herself wholeheartedly into her routine, attempting to focus all her brainpower on foaming milk and pulling shots. Her flow was interrupted only once, by the appearance of Oliver, but it was too busy for them to say anything to each other beyond a quick hello. Once the nine o’clock rush receded and she’d restocked everything, she attacked the congealed milk and syrup clinging to the countertops. The other baristas left around ten, which meant Dani was queen of Quarter Cast until close.
Usually her nocturnal realm was a quiet one, but tonight proved to be surprisingly lively for a Monday. She made a quad-shot Americano for a regular who worked third shift nearby, a London Fog for a sophomore she kind of recognized from her statistics class, and four PSLs for a study group who camped out at the big table in the corner. Each customer who came through the door was an excuse not to dwell on her anxieties, but each was also a small act of devastation, because none of them was Kass.
The study group left a little before one, giving Dani an entire hour to close down and fret about everything, especially about Kass. There was almost certainly a reasonable explanation for why he hadn’t showed up like he’d said he would; one such explanation was that he just wasn’t that interested in her.
And why would he be? She was a C student with no career plans, no free time, no money in her pocket—and now, a high likelihood of losing her scholarship before she’d even finished her first semester.
With great agony, Dani turned off theOPENsign at 2:01A.M.It was official: He hadn’t come.
The ghost gave a soft, tormented moan as she leaned against his door and tipped her head back in defeat.
“Me too, buddy.” She sighed. “Me fucking too.”
Four
The next morning Dani woke in a cold sweat, certain she was late. Gingerbread cawed a reassurance from his nest, eye level with her lofted bed.
“It’s not even nine,” McKenna said from below. She was propped against a gracious stack of pillows, sipping tea and sketching a new dress design for her portfolio.
Thank Hecate.Dani didn’t have class until ten on Tuesdays.
She flopped back onto her mattress, staring up at the vaulted stone ceiling. Sunset-colored stained glass glimmered on the wall, the upper hemisphere of a rose window depicting the pantheon of Celtic gods. The girls’ studio apartment was tucked at the back of a refurbished temple a short walk from campus. It was by no means spacious or well-kept—they had several buckets stationed for leaks in the ceiling—but Dani loved it with a fierceness. She had never lived in the same place for long, even when she was still with her parents. To her, this was the height of luxury.
The temptation to curl back under her covers was potent. She probably could have spared a few more minutes, but she’d just spend them ruminating about Silva and Kass, so what was the point? Dani sat up, dangling her legs over the side of the bed. Gingerbread chirruped at her for attention, so she reached out to pat his tiny head.
“Morning, sunshine,” McKenna said, sketching a line with especial violence.
“Mrm.” Dani gave the crow one last scritch before she inched her way down the ladder with the grace and attitude of a slug. Shepushed aside the gauzy curtains that shrouded the nook beneath her bed—referred to lovingly by McKenna as her hovel—and tripped over a ring of candles from a week-old ritual as she entered.
