“Don’t we all?” December argued.
“We’ll let the coin toss decide,” I said.
December groaned, and Nico chuckled, understandinghis impending fate. I leaned back into my seat, looking forward with a smile.
“A coin toss?” Jonah glanced at them in the rearview.
“She’s infinitely lucky,” December grumbled.
“Never missed one in her life,” Nico added. “It’s almost as impressive as it is scary.”
“We’ll find a stranger and ask for one.” I pointed at an exit sign. The diner on the sign was one that the convention had given us a complimentary meal ticket for. “Once we get some food in us, we’ll let fate decide.”
“I’m convinced Fate’s in love with you,” December said.
“I think I could pull her,” I agreed.
The stickier the floors,the better the food, was what my parents used to say whenever we stopped at roadside diners. Most of my childhood took shape on the road, so every belief formed in those years stuck to me like plaster. I couldn’t exactly down the greasy burgers like I did back then. But I ordered salads instead, indulged in a couple of fries or bites of dessert, and basked in the ambiance.
All diners were my safe place, home to late-night research and an opportunity to muse about jobs that kept me up at night.
“I talked to your sisters while you were on stage,” December said as we settled into the semi-clean booth. Nico and Jonah were deep in conversation across from us. They debated the reliability of translations of ward creation (Nico held our parents’ old school way of thinking. He didn’t dare risk an English translation, preferring to learnthe pronunciation without fully understanding everything. While Jonah thought it could be more efficient to say the words in one’s native tongue, trusting the translator because there was a belief that the ward could be stronger when the speaker understood. I resisted playing devil’s advocate for both sides).
“Are they still doing that job at the water park?” I asked.
My older sisters, Dawn, Eve, and Opal, were loyal Guild members. And that meant they got all their jobs assigned with no control over where they went and how long they’d be there. Some part of me, thousands of layers deep, missed being on their team. But the idea of being tied to the Guild provided enough frustration to burn through the regret. And I’d spent too much energy arguing with them about changing my status to freelancer just to backtrack.
Guild freelancers weren’t beholden to the strict rules of monitoring. They still included us in their database as active members in the rare chance they needed to call in for backup on particularly demanding jobs.
“They’re in upstate New York now,” December said. “There’s talk about them getting higher clearance.”
There was a clawing in my chest. I took a deep breath, fending off the thoughts of maybe I should have stayed. Maybe I could have learned to be happy on their team. Because nothing was ever perfect. The grass surely wasn’t greener on my side of the fence. Higher clearance meant access to research the Guild kept under lock and key, details on rare entities and cases that weren’t solved by a hunter but by fate itself. Maybethatwas where true change began. And here I was signing photos of myself in pleather jumpsuits.
“Good for them,” was all I managed. I rubbed my fingers on my diamond-shaped pendant.
December offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure it’s got its pros along with its cons. All jobs do. And remember, the Guild was raking up on that cons list.”
“Yeah, of course,” I said, dismissive as my cheeks burned from her detecting my insecurity.
A server came to our table, took our orders, and offered us drinks. Nico helped pull me away from thoughts of career trajectory with his question: “Since you’re fulfilling dreams, RJ”—he draped his arm over the back of their bench—“you should do me next?”
“Why can’t I be next?” December asked.
“Because I have seniority.”
“I have a blood relation,” December made anand what now?face.
“I’m surprised you have a dream,” Nico readjusted, resting his elbows on the table to close the gap between December and him. “I assumed you’d scared away all hope and found your satisfaction living off youthful discontent and rage at the machine.”
“One can still dream amidst societal collapse.” I ripped open a pack of salt and dumped it onto the vinyl table. “It’s healthier than not.”
“And I’m nothing if not the picture of health.” December batted her eyes at Nico.
“Don’t push it,” I warned.
Nico snorted. December's foot knocked against mine on the way to serve a blow to Nico’s shin. Jonah remained quiet, watching me create a small circle of salt with my fingertips. I dropped my necklace in the middle.
“How are your first couple of weeks treating you?” I asked him. “It’s inspiring being in my presence, isn’t it?”
