Page 4 of A Barista's Guide to Love & Larceny
Nothing of interest happened until Dani’s third turn, when she drew the Fool. Underneath the table, where only McKenna could see, she made the shape of a zero with her fingers on her lap. McKenna didn’t react. Then, when it came to Katya to draw a card, her knee joggled up and down a couple of times before she caught herself—so quick it almost wasn’t noticeable. Katya swapped a Cups for a Pentacles and slumped back in her chair with a huff, tossing the rest of her cards face down on the table like it was a lost cause.
Dani thought she saw a flicker of something in Professor Silva’s eyes—understanding. Her pulse quickened. A long moment stretched out as the teacher considered her cards. Then, with a flourish, she plucked one from her hand and swapped it out. It was the Hanged Man.
Dani glanced at Katya and caught her restless leg a second time, confirming her guess. Yes, she had the Moon. But the triumph didn’t last long. When Dani looked back at Professor Silva, their gazes locked into place. The woman’s cool gray eyes were ringed with blue and bright with curiosity.
Dani broke their connection and stared at her hand. The Fool burned its imprint into her retinas. Next to her, McKenna quietly made a pointless exchange of cards.
“Your turn, babe,” her friend said. Dani felt frozen. She knew Professor Silva suspected something, and if she played the Fool now, it would only strengthen her case. If she didn’t, though, Katya would win the round, taking the points they needed to earn next month’s rent.
Dani’s back molars pressed together; surely the others could see the muscle in her jaw twitching. Without the money from tonight, she’d need to pick up more shifts at the café, which would leave less of her already precious time for homework and sleep, which would threaten her all-important GPA and attendance record. She had to keep her GPA above a 3.0 and her tardies or absences at three or fewer per semester, or she’d automatically lose her scholarship. Those things were just as important as the money. She didn’t want to end up back on the streets like she had been, off and on, for the last three years.
But on the other hand, one word from Silva could destroy everything she’d worked to build for herself: not just her nascent academic career, but the semblance of a life that wasn’t ruled by what someone else could get out of her. A chance to find out what she was good at—rather, what shewantedto be good at. Being here, at Fox’s Leap, learning who she really was, was what she’d fought for.
This felt like an impossible choice.
Dani didn’t know what she was going to do until the moment she switched out the minor Cups card for the Fool.
“Damn it!” Katya cried, and slammed her hand on the table, sending her cards sliding into the center. “I had the Moon, too!”
McKenna broke into a Cheshire grin. Adrian began to clean up the cards from the table, and Geneva gathered everyone’s hands to total their points. Dani would get a few extra for ending the round,plus from the Cups cards that had been on the table, securing a bigger chunk of the grand prize.
Dani made a big show of helping Adrian, acutely aware that Silva was watching. She would need to be ultra careful the rest of the night—but she’d had to win the money. Silva would have been suspicious either way. Now, at least, Dani had a better chance at making rent.
They played for two more rounds, Dani’s discomfort growing with every hand Geneva dealt. McKenna won the next game, so Dani held herself back from winning the last, and when the night was over and they had divvied up the grand prize—her payout was indeed enough to cover her portion of rent—she hurried to gather her things.
“Good game, as always,” she said, nearly knocking over her chair in her haste to stand. Professor Silva rose at the same time, and Dani cut her off before she could speak. “Sorry, I have to run if I’m going to make it to work on time—great to see everyone!” She winced at her own artificial cheer,justmanaging to keep her face on straight till she turned away from the table, pointedly dodging Silva’s searching gaze, and began to wift away at twice her comfortable pace.
“What in the—Dani!” McKenna scooped up her satchel, threw on her cape, and loped to catch up with her, performing every motion with elfin grace. Gingerbread took off from her shoulder and flew over their heads, crowing his displeasure. “What’s gotten into you? You were later than usual, and acted like you had a chunk of selenite up your butt all night.”
The sharp click of high heels echoed behind them. “Can we please talk about this somewhere else?” Dani sped up, circling around an immense astrarium, and started across the expanse of the observatory toward the exit.
“Why are yourunning?”
“I’m not running. This is how I always walk,” Dani said, willingher friend to stop asking questions and justhurry. The heel clicks were getting closer.
“Don’t be ridi—”
“Professor Silva!”
The clicking slowed, almost reluctantly, then stopped. Dani finally gathered the courage to risk a glance over her shoulder; Geneva had flagged down the professor to show her something in a binder—a lifeline for Dani. She kept moving even as Silva’s gaze beamed over and locked onto Dani’s for one last, fleeting moment. It was loaded with a meaning the girl couldn’t parse. Silva’s lips parted as if she was about to call out, but then Dani ducked into the stairwell and clattered down the steps, nearly falling over herself in her hurry.
“Dani,” McKenna said, hot on her heels. “What the fuck.” Gingerbread flapped down to land on her shoulder, supporting his mistress with a plaintivesquook.
But Dani just shook her head at both of them as they exited into the waiting room, where the hipster looked up from his textbooks so quickly he was in the danger zone for whiplash, eyes zeroing in on McKenna like lightning to a weather vane—a reaction Dani had gotten used to whenever she entered a room with her best friend. The two girls angled their bodies away from him, but Gingerbread swiveled his head to scrutinize the boy’s snake necklace with a greedy gleam in his eye.
“I have to get to work,” Dani told McKenna. “I can’t be late again. Can we talk at home?”
“Fine,” McKenna said, “but I—”
“Great, thanks, Kenz. Love you!”
Dani didn’t give the other girl the chance to protest further—she power-wifted away, before Silva could descend from the observatory. But the residue of the professor’s attention still lingered like a sheen of oil on her skin, even as she stepped into the rainy night and hurried off campus.
Two
The blueberry scones weren’t giving up their secrets anytime soon. Dani took a swig of coffee and squinted at the pastries, channeling the full force of her wrath. Nope. Now they were just mildly blurry blueberry scones that weren’t giving up their secrets.
She’d been only six minutes late to work—not enough to incur her manager’s ire when she reviewed the time sheet tomorrow—and the café had been fortuitously dead since eleven; but even without disruption she hadn’t made any progress on her folk divination assignment. She picked up her fork and stabbed one scone in the heart. If therewereany prophecies to be divined within these day-old baked goods, she was too anxious to find them. All she could think about was the way Silva had watched her throughout the evening. The professor could report the whole group to the disciplinary board for gambling on campus; or tell the school Dani was hiding something; or blackmail her into doing something unsavory; or march into her Intro to Oneiromancy class and publicly humiliate her; or—
