Page 25 of Inked in Bloom
The dean frowns. “Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? Come back bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I say, shaking my head.
“I insist.” She places a hand between my shoulder blades and guides me toward the door, tossing a glance behind us. “Why doesn’t Ms. Cherri escort you?”
“I’d love to,” Cherri says before I decline. She loops her elbow in mine and leads me outside, not letting me stop moving until we’re at the edge of the grounds, hair rain-soaked against our scalps. We trudge toward City Center, soiled toes stepping across the cobblestones as we pass the street vendors, heading in the direction of The Warren. It’s the only burrow you can’t see from City Center, and the fact that it’s the adults-only section, makes me curious why that is.
Twenty minutes later, the rain has stopped and we’re standing in front of a rounded door flanked by a thick hedge wall. Both still barefoot. Cherri takes pity on me and twitches her nose, summoning my floral combat boots from earlier. She steps on the widest cobblestone, slightly set apart from the rest, and some hidden mechanism jolts to life. With a groan, the oddly shaped wooden door opens slowly, and I follow her inside.
Caped in darkness, we stroll down the archway of thick greenery. Rose-gold lanterns hang at varying intervals and lengths, leading us along a narrow path that opens out into a vibrant city loop. Shops line the rim, including a winery, a few clubs and restaurants, and a sex toy shop.
“Come on,” Cherri says, pointing toward the bookstore café up ahead. “We’ll get something to eat at Novel Nibbles. Roxy’s working today.”
Pink, white, and green hydrangeas curve over the awning and sit in planters spanning the long windowsill outside the quaint café. There’s aWait to be Seatedsign, but Cherri forges on and grabs a table near the burbling fountain at the café’s center, another sculpted tower of lopsided teacups filled with bushels of hydrangeas, floppy bunny ears peeking out from a few of them. The ceiling is swathed in them as well, aside from a handful of square windows that draw in sunlight, offering peeks of a rainbow across the droplet-kissed glass.
“I’m so sorry you had to leave early,” I manage oncewe both sit down. “It’s the first day and I know how much you were looking forward to starting class.”
“It’s no big deal.” She waves her hand for emphasis. “The dean was right, you’ve taken on a lot in a short time. No one would judge you for deferring. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
“No. I’m glad you did.” Otherwise, I wouldn’t realize how close I was to having a way home. I don’t even give myself the opportunity to doubt my decision. I can’t. If I let Therapist Monroe loose, it’ll paralyze me. That’s the last thing I need when there’s a way out of here, so I push back the thoughts and redirect my energy at my friend across the table. “I’ll get through it.”
I fidget with the mismatched bunny salt-and-pepper shakers between us.
“Okay. Well, I can’t say I’m not glad.” Cherri watches my hands twitch with the condiments, brows furrowed, then her gaze glides up to mine. “It’ll be so much more fun together.”
“Agreed,” I reply with a firm nod.
All I need to do is figure out how to get my magic working and make it through this course.
Cherri’s fingers wrap around my wrist, halting my nervous energy. She wrinkles her nose, weighing whatever’s on her mind. “I have to ask…and no judgment, truly, but…Sir Thumps-A-Lot?” She clamps her lips shut, stifling a laugh. “Did I miss something after the mixer? Is that a new mortal kink I haven’t heard of? If so, tell me more.”
I can’t help but smile.
“I wish that’s what it was, believe me.” Sucking in a breath, I shake my head. “I sometimes fostered injured bunnies before?—”
The image of a chestnut tail followed by anorange bus slams into my mind, and I halt the vision there. Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow down the painful memory, tears burning behind my lids. I blink them away and breathe in and out until the sensation disappears.
“I see.” Cherri nods slowly a few times and arches a brow. “And Professor Briar was one of these bunnies? Sir Thumps-A-Lot?”
“Yes.”
“Did you give him that name?”
“He really loved thumping his foot when I gave him head scratches, okay?” I’m so defensive, but as I say the words I hear how bizarre they sound. Cherri has the decency to wrangle her laughter into a small huff. “I’d just taken him to a final checkup with the vet when he ran off. I was worried he would reopen his stitches, so I chased after him, and…well…now I’m here.”
As I finish the sentence, my mouth is dry, the last few words scoring my throat. “Why didn’t he say anything? He must have known I’d recognize him.”
Her eyes go wide. “That’s wild.”
“Hey, dolls,” Roxy cuts in, a notepad cradled in her palm and a pen poised and ready in the other. She’s dressed in a pleated A-line skirt that falls below her knees, a cup of coffee embroidered at the hem with its steam wafting up toward her hip. She looks like she’s dressed for a sock hop.
“Hey, Roxy,” we say in unison.
“Everything okay?” Her smile falls when she spots the clock ticking away on the wall. “Shouldn’t you two be at the Conserva—” She glances from me to Cherri and clears her throat. “What can I get you two?”
I reach for one of the menus, but Cherri lifts a hand and stops me. “Can we do the tea and treat sampler?”
“Of course.” Roxy gives us a gentle smile.
