47 ❤ Brenda
“Con, I don’t understand these acceptance letters.”
Má hands me the sheaf of papers, some of them inked in runes on yellowed pieces of parchment.
“They’re for universities in the other world, Má,” I say. The letters had come pouring in once people realized my part in ending the Ritual, and I’m still not sure what to make of them.
“This one says UCLA. Didn’t you want to go there?” Má blinks. “Huh, it says you would be accepted with advanced standing if you major in spellcraft, with a full scholarship. That’s nice!”
I nod. I’d given Má a brief summary of the events that led to the Connection, but she’d mostly been interested in when I could invite Kat over for dinner.
“I’m not sure, though. I think I actually want to take a year off.”
Má smiles at me and tucks a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. “Good girl. You relax, have your fun.”
I’d thought not getting into one university and not getting a scholarship would be the end of all my dreams. But there are new pathways I hadn’t considered, and there’s plenty of things to fix.
Saving the world is a complex task, after all.
I’d already started thinking about how one could use magic to fight climate change, and Kat had laughed at me and said there was plenty of time for research when I started school next year.
She’s got her pick of universities, too, UCLA included—and Kat’s insistence that she get to declare her own major and figure out a curriculum was met with eager acceptance by all the admission deans.
Má stops to scratch Ana behind her ears, and Ana preens under the attention. We’ve given up pretending that Má isn’t her favorite, and Ana has hoards everywhere all over the house and the nail salon, and various cushy handsewn beds to choose from.
My new runebook chimes with a notification, and I grin. “I’ve got to go, Má. I’ll be home for dinner; I’m just gonna go hang out with Kat for a bit.”
“Tell her dad thank you for the bao. They were delicious!”
I grin, and start whirling my hands together in a now practiced motion. Up. Side. Circle. Forefingers tucked together, and breathe—
The Central Library has been restored to its former glory, and I smile to myself as I join the line of people waiting to walk through the Door.
“That was a really clean teleportation!” an older man says excitedly to me. “I’ve been taking classes at the Santa Monica College over there; you wouldn’t believe how much this old man can do!” He giggles like a young boy. “It’s exciting, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s great,” I agree.
It’s finally my turn, and I walk through the Door; it feels like a warm whisper of wind, welcoming me with familiarity. I send back an appreciation to the universe for hearing my question.
The streetcar is filled with excitement, people wearing a mix of familiar and unfamiliar clothing—it’s funny, I can’t actually place who’s from what world anymore.
The fashion trends have collided very quickly, everyone eager to wear the fashions of the new world.
I see petticoats over jeans, cravats and vests with motorcycle jackets, and every combination in between.
There is a new feature on the streetcar—an announcer, who describes each stop excitedly with the zeal of a circus performer, sharing sights and places of interest. I guess having access to a whole other world is good for tourism.
“Main Street, San Pablo neighborhood! The home of many delicious restaurants, several parks, and the historic Sammy’s Coffee and Pick-Me-Ups! This humble café is owned by…”
I don’t bother listening to the rest and ignore the interested crowd of tourists following me to the shop.
Inside, I wave at Jordan, who’s already gotten a long line of customers. They smile at me and point at one of the booths, where I spot Kat with two iced coffees.
“Hey, you,” Kat says, offering me the coffee.
“Hey yourself,” I say, dropping a kiss on top of her head. I take a sip of the coffee—cool, refreshing, creamy caffeine. “This is nice. What’s in it? New Pick-Me-Up?” I tease.
I smile, trying to parse out which emotion it’s enhancing. Joy, maybe. Excitement? Contentment? Is that a thing?
Kat smiles at me, soft and easy. “Just milk, cream, and coffee.”
I lean forward, pulling her chin closer. She hums happily as we kiss, then presses her forehead to mine. “Missed you,” she says.
“It was two days.”
“You didn’t text me back!”
“Did you have the right number?” I grin.
Engineers and magetechs are still figuring out how the two different technologies can work together, but it’s a bit hit-or-miss so far with cell phones.
Runebooks aren’t much easier, since there’s a bit of a learning curve with the population, but people are making it work.
Kat laughs. “I can’t believe you thought I gave you a fake namekey— I mean number.”
“Those two things look very different, you know.”
“Uh-huh.”
I can’t help but laugh at Kat’s fake indignation, and at this moment in general. The old me would have been so anxious. I don’t have plans for the summer, or a college I’ve decided to go to, or a summer job, or a volunteer opportunity to maximize every moment.
I’ve got absolutely nothing planned.
For all my careful plans and worrying each day if every moment counted toward a decided future, I never thought I’d be this content with just being present.
Maybe believing in those dreams—even if they didn’t turn out the way I’d planned—got me what I needed after all.
I settle into the booth next to Kat, and she curls her arm around me.
“So what do you want to do? There’s a new movie out, or we could go watch Hannah’s idleball game.”
“As much fun as watching a bunch of girls chase an invisible ball sounds, I’d rather just stay here with you and have coffee,” I say. It feels so good, after all this time going at hyperspeed, from one step of a plan to the next, to just relax.
“Coffee and kisses it is,” Kat says, holding her cup to mine.
I clink it with a smile. “Thought I just said coffee.”
Kat leans in close, her eyes dark with mischief. She raises her eyebrow at me.
I grin at her, the delight inherent in my smile. “I could be convinced otherwise,” I say.