Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
Dani slept for the entire weekend. She went against her personal code and called out of her Friday night shift, the first time she’d ever done so at Quarter Cast—or rather, McKenna did it for her.
Thank the gods she was at least being paid for her treason against Kass, so she could afford to miss a shift.
Or two. Her best friend also found coverage for Saturday night so Dani could lie comatose in peace.
There was no peace to be found, of course—only the exquisite agony of knowing that things between her and Kass had ended in the worst possible way: with him thinking she’d only dated him to gain some kind of proximity to his father.
That she’d used him. She didn’t eat, didn’t study, and barely acknowledged McKenna, who whispered updates to her from the bottom of her ladder: Oliver, who’d tried to visit, now had a functional third charm, but they were worried it wouldn’t last, so McKenna was wildcrafting plants in the forest for new decoctions and infusions.
The graft Oliver had been working on had finally proven successful, and they were both hopeful.
Dani registered these reports as good news, but it wasn’t until dinnertime on Sunday that she finally found the necessary energy to slither out of bed, and it was only because she didn’t have someone to cover her shift this time.
She didn’t want to find out what happened when she called out twice in one week.
As soon as she got home, though, she was right back under the covers, rising only for classes the next day.
She couldn’t muster the motivation to attend the Monday meeting with Silva and the crew, and let McKenna make an excuse about her being laid up with the flu.
Later, McKenna reported softly to her that she hadn’t missed much, just a review of the week’s tasks, and the only one relevant to Dani was the appointment to be fitted for their gala gowns on Saturday.
“Babe,” McKenna said, standing on the ladder to Dani’s bed, “you need to eat. Can I bring you something from the dining hall?”
Dani just rolled away from her.
Life went on in much the same vein for several days: class, work, languishing in bed, eating cheese and crackers when McKenna force-fed them to her.
Thanksgiving was coming up, but the university paid the holiday little due other than giving students Thursday off classes, so it barely registered as a blip on Dani’s radar.
She’d run out of tears by Monday, but she certainly hadn’t gained anything back in terms of willpower.
There had been neither sight nor sound of Kass, of course—at Quarter Cast, on campus, or in her inbox. She didn’t expect there to be.
She didn’t deserve there to be.
On Wednesday night, her evening off work for the week, there was a knock on the door, which McKenna answered.
“Hold on,” she heard her best friend say in a hushed tone. “I’ll ask her.”
The ladder creaked as McKenna climbed a few rungs.
“Dani,” she said, “someone’s here to see you.”
Curiosity got the better of her—and maybe some false hope, too—so Dani sat up as the door opened to admit Katya, carrying a plate wrapped in foil.
“I heard you weren’t feeling well,” the girl said stiltedly. She clearly wasn’t well-versed in expressing sympathy. “I brought you some cookies.”
Something about her sincere attempt at a thing that clearly brought her discomfort moved Dani, both emotionally and physically; she climbed down the ladder and invited Katya into her hovel underneath the lofted bed.
She watched Katya as she set down her plate, unwrapped it, and handed her a cookie filled with jam and dusted with powdered sugar.
“What?” Katya asked as Dani stared at the proffered treat. “I like to bake. It destresses me.”
“No, I think it’s nice,” Dani said. “It’s very analog of you. Thanks.” Unexpectedly, her stomach rumbled, so she accepted the cookie and took a bite.
“You’re not really sick, are you,” Katya said after Dani had finished it and was helping herself to a second.
Dani paused mid-chew. She glanced over at McKenna, who was allegedly reading on her bed, not looking at them.
“No,” she said finally. “No, I’m—I just went through a breakup.”
“Ah,” Katya said. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. It does. Thanks.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t want it to happen?”
Dani lifted the cookie to her mouth. “No,” she said, before biting into it.
“No, I really didn’t.” Katya didn’t say anything else, and the silence compelled Dani to speak into it.
“It’s silly, too. We broke up over a misunderstanding.
He doesn’t know what really happened—and now I don’t know how to tell him. ”
McKenna flipped a page in her book.
Katya took one of her own cookies, studied it like she was searching for flaws.
“Yeah, that’s hard,” she said, nibbling on the edge.
“And obviously I don’t know anything about it.
I’ve actually never been through a breakup before.
” Dani would have expected this admission to arrive on a wave of color, but her mind was clear; Katya was opening up of her own free will.
“I’ve never had a real relationship at all, just so you know.
But it sounds to me like you just need to be honest with this guy.
Even if it doesn’t change anything, you’ll feel better if you tell him what really happened, or clarify whatever it is he doesn’t understand.
At least you’ll have put it all out there. ”
Dani nodded slowly, chewing over both Katya’s suggestion and another cookie. “You’re right,” she said at last, and thought she heard McKenna let out a breath. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Just make sure you’ve got yourself sorted before the gala, right?” Katya said, not unsympathetically. “It’ll be hard to get through that if you don’t have a clear head.”
Dani had not spared much thought for the gala over the last few days, but she nodded again. “I’ll be ready.” She really had nothing left to lose, now.
“Cool. Well, I just wanted to stop by and check on you. I’m part of team OneiroLabs, so I won’t see you when you go shopping on Saturday. I’ll catch you on Monday, I guess?”
“Katya,” Dani said as the girl got up to leave. “What made you decide to do this? The whole thing with Silva, I mean.”
“Because,” Katya said. “Beside the check, Silva promised she’d help me land a job after I graduate. She has connections that could get me into companies I wouldn’t be able to otherwise.”
Dani made a small mm of understanding; this made sense. Katya had never struck her as someone who desperately needed money. And that certainly explained why she didn’t want Silva to doubt her capabilities.
“Plus,” Katya said, “it’s been fun to challenge myself, you know?”
“No,” Dani said. “I really don’t.”
Once Katya was gone, Dani sat there for a moment, thinking.
Her gaze drifted over to her desk and landed on the beautiful tarot box Kass had made her.
She hadn’t touched it since their breakup, and the sight of it made a lump form in her throat.
She swallowed hard, then stood and climbed up to her bed, but not to go back to sleep.
Rather, she grabbed her quartzpad then headed back down.
She went over to McKenna, who looked up from her book casually, like she hadn’t been hanging on to every word of Dani and Katya’s conversation.
“I have to tell him,” Dani said. “Kass. I want to write him a message. Tell him as much of the truth as I can. Will you help me?”
“Of course, babe,” McKenna said gently, patting the mattress next to her. “Always.”
After several drafts, they’d come up with:
Dear Kass—
I owe you an explanation, but I don’t know where to start.
The most important thing for you to know is that dating you had nothing, I mean nothing, to do with your dad. I didn’t know who he—or even your sister—was until recently. And it wouldn’t have made a difference. I was into you from the second you walked into Quarter Cast.
But what Wyatt said sounded bad, I know. So I want to tell you the truth. You can do whatever you want with it. I just hope it helps you understand that I would never have hurt you intentionally.
Last month, a professor approached me about an extracurricular project—at least, that’s what she called it.
She said she was investigating the recent clinical trials OneiroLabs was running for their new product.
She said the product was causing dangerous side effects, and she wanted me to pose as a journalist for the school paper, take a tour of OneiroLabs, and interview people there to see if I could find anything out about it.
She thought my ability—the one I told you about the other week—would help uncover information she needed.
Well, it did. I found out it was all true.
Some people in the trials are walking away with really scary side effects.
A lot of them are students here, and my good friend is one of them.
My friend hasn’t been doing well, and no doctor has been able to help them.
You can ask your dad or your sister about what the side effects are, but they involve getting trapped in your own dreams, and sometimes hurting yourself or other people.
Anyway. That same professor asked me to keep helping. She’s trying to find out what’s in the new product. So that’s what we’ve been doing. That’s all, I swear.
I agreed to help before I knew who you were. I’m not sure I would have said yes if I did, but I don’t know. My friend is really hurting. And there’s another reason I’m doing it, too.
Ugh, this part’s really hard, but here goes.
Getting into Fox’s Leap wasn’t easy for me.
I was admitted on a partial scholarship.
At the end of my first year, they said they would review my performance and decide if I get to keep my scholarship for next year.
There’s a lot of rules about what kind of grades I can get and attendance requirements; if I fuck them up, I lose my scholarship.
And without my scholarship, I don’t get to be here anymore, because, well, I don’t have any money, and you know about my parents.
Recently I found out that the committee is reviewing my scholarship early, at the end of this semester, because I haven’t been doing well enough in school.
It’s hard to keep up with everything when you also have a full-time job.
So—this professor offered me a lot of money for helping out.
Money that would mean I could stay here longer even if I lost my scholarship.
So, that’s the truth. I never told that professor about you, or any of the other students who are helping—Wyatt’s one of them. That’s why he reacted the way he did when he saw us together.
Like I said, I only found out who your family was a little while ago. I was trying to figure out how to tell you … but I could never find the words.
I’m so sorry I hurt you, Kass. You’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, and that’s not something I take for granted.
You are one of the most amazing, kind, thoughtful people I’ve ever met—that’s why I’m falling in love with you.
Not because of your family, or your money, or some other selfish reason.
I don’t hope that you can forgive me, but I hope that you can understand. No matter what happens, I’ll always be wishing you the best.
Love,
Dani