Chapter 5
Five
Dani’s day ended as it did most nights, with her behind the bar at Quarter Cast. Though her conversation with Silva had left her concerned about what OneiroLabs was up to, her anxiety over the professor reporting her to the administration or otherwise blackmailing her had all but dissipated.
And she was able to distract herself from that other, nagging worry—the one shaped like a specific boy—with the nine o’clock rush and a relaxed banter with her coworkers.
Once the other baristas left, though, and business died down, it was hard to keep her brain from circling back to Kass.
He’s not coming. He’s not coming, Dani told herself as she ran the dishwasher.
McKenna had been wrong. Kass had bailed, and he’d never make the ghost of Quarter Cast howl again, which meant that Dani needed to keep herself occupied.
In between customers, she took apart the espresso machine and deep-cleaned every hidden nook and cranny of the beast.
After about an hour and a half, though, she ran out of tedious tasks to do, so she got out the reading for her world lit class and was about to start annotating when the door-ghost gave his mournful cry.
Dani looked up, hope betraying her, but instead of Kass, she saw Oliver, and frowned—not because she was disappointed to see them, but because it was unusual for them to come in so many nights in a row.
She smoothed her mouth into a smile as they trudged to the register.
“Back so soon?” she said.
“Yeah,” they said, returning her smile wearily. “It’s just one of those weeks. Can I have the same thing you made me Sunday night? I couldn’t remember what it was yesterday, but it was absolutely heavenly, and did the trick, too. Only, can I have more of it this time?”
“The highest compliment a barista can get,” Dani said. “Coming right up.”
She made the drink quickly and waved away their money when she brought it back to the register. “On the house tonight.”
“That’s really sweet of you, thanks,” they said, throwing a couple of bills into the tip jar.
“No problem,” Dani said. She paused, debating, then added, “Um, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you okay?”
Oliver took a long sip of their latte. “Not really,” they said, a faint sky blue swirling in Dani’s mind. She got the sense that they were the kind of person who tended to put on a brave face for the rest of the world. “How could you tell?”
“You said it was one of those weeks,” she said. “Is school kicking your butt right now?”
“I mean, always,” Oliver said with a small laugh. “I probably shouldn’t have taken plant pathology in my first semester. I got overexcited when I was signing up for classes.”
Dani remembered the thrill of browsing the Leap’s expansive class catalog and grinned. “I feel that. So plant pathology is what’s making you want to stay up all night?”
“Not really, no,” they said. “It sounds weird, but trust me—you’d feel the same way if you’d been trapped in your own dreams for the last week.”
The mental sky blue darkened into sapphire, and Dani felt something click into place, a sudden suspicion forming.
“Hold on,” she said slowly. “This doesn’t have anything to do with OneiroLabs, does it?”
“Wait, how did you know I did their sleep study?” A horrified look crossed Oliver’s face, and a marmalade orange flared in Dani’s mind. “Did I really just say that? I wasn’t supposed to say anything, I signed an NDA—shit!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Dani said hastily. “I won’t tell anyone. I already knew about the clinical trials—it isn’t your fault that I put two and two together.”
“Thank you,” Oliver said with palpable relief. “But how did you know? You didn’t do one of the trials, did you?”
“No, but I saw a flyer for it in the library. Actually—” She realized she was wearing the same pants from Sunday, which meant she could reach into her pocket and pull out the tab she’d torn off.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Oliver said. “I signed up for the study because—well, OneiroLabs is part of why I wanted to come to the Leap in the first place. They hire a lot of arcanobotany students from here, and they’re doing some innovative things with plants that I’d love to be a part of.
I thought doing the study would be a good way to meet some people there, but I only made it through one night of it.
I guess there was something wrong with me because they told me not to bother coming back, but it—” They cut themself off.
Normally, Dani wouldn’t have pressed them, but these were special circumstances.
“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to,” she said, “but you said something about being trapped in your own dreams?”
Oliver hesitated, clearly considering what to say next.
When they finally spoke, no colors accompanied their words.
“Yes. The trials were to test their new product, some kind of potion for lucid dreaming, which sounded really interesting when they were explaining it to us. The effects were only supposed to last one night, but let’s just say it worked too well, because I’m still—”
“You’re still dreaming,” Dani finished for them.
The door to the café opened, and a handful of students spilled in, laughing and talking. Oliver glanced at them nervously, then gave Dani a quick nod.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything else.
But listen,” Dani said, dropping her voice as the newcomers meandered over from the door, “there’s this professor visiting right now, Professor Silva, in the OS department—room six in the basement.
I think she’s been keeping track of this study as a side project.
She, um, might be able to help you. If you want it.
” She actually had no idea if Silva could help Oliver, but she sure as hell knew the professor would want to talk to them.
Oliver nodded, gratitude flooding their eyes. “Thanks,” they said. “I’ll think about it.”
“Sure,” Dani said. “And anytime you need more caffeine, you know where to find me.”
“You’re the best,” Oliver said sincerely. “See you later, Dani.”
The group who’d just entered trooped up to the register as Oliver headed out.
They were in high spirits, chattering among themselves about a project for their weather magic class.
They also had no idea what they wanted—one of them asked for a breve latte with room for cream—so by the time the last one was about to order, Dani was feeling tested.
“And what can I get for you?” she said a little too caustically, glancing up from the paper cup she was writing on … and directly into the sheepish face of Kass himself.
Dani nearly speared her own hand with her marker. “Oh, hey.”
“Hey.”
“You scared me.”
“Clearly,” Kass said in his easy way, his grin amused. “Makes sense. I am very scary.”
“I—you—hold on—oh shit—” Dani went back and forth between the bar and the register several times, twice forgetting that what she had meant to do was put down the cup with the others still needing to be filled.
She’d told herself that if Kass did show up tonight, she’d play it cool and aloof.
She wasn’t doing such a good job of that.
“Don’t rush on my account,” Kass said, trying and failing not to laugh.
He sobered up when she finally made it back to the register.
“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t come by yesterday.
I totally meant to, and wanted to, but I was working on this project at home, and I lost track of time. I’m kind of really bad about that.”
“Oh,” Dani said. The dead butterflies in her stomach had started to come back to life. “It’s fine. It’s not like we had firm plans or anything.”
“I know, but I didn’t want you to think I was flaking on purpose. It’s just that when I’m focused on something, I’m really focused on it, you know?”
“Totally,” she said, though she could not relate. “Well, thanks for letting me know. I’m glad you’re here now.” She smiled.
“Me too,” he said, grinning back at her. “And not just because that French press you gave me the other night was killer. But it looks like you’ve got a lot of drinks waiting, so don’t worry about me yet. I’ll keep you company while you make them.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t, but I want to. It’s the perfect excuse to keep procrastinating on my paper, like I have been since the last time I was here.”
“Xylophone trees?” Dani returned to her rightful place behind the bar and began to pack shots with more confidence.
“Xylophone trees,” Kass confirmed. “How about you? Fortune-telling with focaccia?”
“No one calls it that anymore.”
“What’s wrong with focaccia?”
“Fortune-telling. The preferred term these days is divination.”
“Oh. My bad, noted.”
“No pastry divination tonight, anyway. I have some reading for world lit to do, which is more low-carb. Hold on a second.” She began to steam coconut milk, the shriek of the wand too loud for them to carry a conversation. Kass lifted his backpack and gestured to the tables.
I’ll be back, he mouthed, and she nodded casually, like this cute mage boy assuring her he’d come back was not the cause of a volcanic eruption of those resurrected butterflies in her gut.
There was no denying she was ridiculously happy she’d been wrong about Kass, even if it meant McKenna would get the chance to say I told you so.
Dani steadied herself by finishing the drinks and handing them off at the plane.
Kass set up shop at a smaller table this time and was back at the register when she was done.
She attempted to saunter back to the counter, but only succeeded in humiliating herself by tripping over a loose shoelace.
To his gentlemanly credit, Kass did not react, busying himself instead with studying the daily special on the board propped up on the counter.
“Interested in trying the pumpkin spice mocha?” Dani said.
Kass made a face. “Chocolate in coffee isn’t really my thing.”
“Another French press, then?”
“Yeah. What roast should I get?”
“What do you like?”