Page 17 of When Darkness Calls

“That everyone heard me say ‘oh shit’ and they started laughing?” Cade’s holding back his laughter but there are tears welling in his eyes.

Her hands cover her face, but her body shakes with her laughter. “Oh my God, please shut up and do not speak of it again.” She rakes her hands down her face, pointing a finger at Cade. “We take it to our grave and pray everyone else has forgotten.” Her cheeks are pink, but her eyes are alight, sparkling in a way I haven’t seen in a really long time.

Cade chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Okay, so aside from Liz being a devious mastermind, anything else notable happen?”

If it’s possible her cheeks burn brighter, as she looks away. “No. Not really.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re hiding something,” I probe, nudging her foot with my own.

“I mean, Professor Logan’s class has been really cool, but we’re still kind of going over expectations and taking notes so far.”

My grin is wide. “Yeah? I knew you’d like him. He’s a cool guy, super chill. But damn, when he gets on a roll, it’s so interesting seeing how his mind works.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly how I’ve felt. I’ve already got like thirty pages of notes, and half of them are probably not even important, but I don’t want to forget anything he says.”

I nod in understanding.

“Okay, before you two start geeking out…Seriously, what are we eating for dinner?”

Dani and I shrugged. Cade sighs. “Fine, the diner it is. I’ll be back in twenty. The usuals?” He stands looking at us expectantly as we both nod.

“Yeah, works for me.”

“Yeah, but can I get onion rings too?” Dani asks, pulling her computer back into her lap.

Cade mock salutes as he walks away. The patio door shutting feels a lot louder than before.

She’s quiet after he leaves. Like whatever moment of comfortableness there was left with him.

“So…does he still have you guys doing the portfolio?”

“Yeah. I’m excited about it, but I have no clue what I want to focus on. We have a TA who’s, ya know, like, available to help us, or whatever. But I really ain’t a fan of things like that. Like…the sort of structured guidance kind of stuff. It feels really restricting to me.”

My head tilts as I watch her type. “How so?”

She hums, pursing her lips, looking up in thought. “Like…for example, I’m a fan of suggestions or examples. Things that can get my thought process in the right direction. I don’t like it when it goes beyond that. I’m afraid it’ll be like the TA saying ‘You need to do this, this, and this’ as if it’s a checklist to just get marks on a rubric. I don’t want that. I don’t like that. I did it before with a paper in high school, and it kind of sucked all the fun and joy out of it. Like the focus became solely on doing the bare minimum for getting the requirements done and less on the passion and creativity. Whereas, it should be about both. Plus, I always end up feeling this weird sort of obligation to do the suggestions they give. Like if I don’t do it, I’ll end up getting docked for not doing exactly what they say.”

“That makes sense. You want to bounce ideas around and not be told what to do.”

“Yes, exactly. I’m sure if I said all of this to the TA he’d understand, but yeah. It’s kind of just an awkward conversation I really don’t wanna have to be honest. He seems like a nice guy, but if I talk to him about the project, it definitely won’t be during office hours. It’d be when we chat in the plaza…or something like that.” She mumbles the last bit, blushing.

That piques my interest. “Do you see him around a lot?”

Her head wobbles as she thinks of how to respond, typing away, refusing to look me in the eye. “Kind of. I mean, like…I see him a lot outside of Logan’s classroom around the art building. But uh…yeah. I ran into him a few times this week.”

I quirk my brow, feigning a teasing grin. “Is that so? And where, pray tell, have these rendezvous taken place?”

My heart beats wildly and my stomach sinks. The back of my neck heats. I don’t understand the reaction. Why am I feeling so…annoyed? And nervous over what her answer will be. It’s not like this is the first time she’s talked about guys with me before. That started years ago, and yeah back then, I felt a strange sense of protectiveness. I wanted her to be safe around boys for a multitude of reasons. I didn’t want her to be hurt. But this…. This is like that but multiplied by a thousand.

“Uh…well, we may have gotten lunch this week…at the same time? I mean, it wasn’t like he asked me to get lunch, or like it was a date, or anything. We just, ya know, happened to be in the food court at the same time…in the same line…and ate lunch together.”

I lean back on my hands, hoping she didn’t see them shaking. “Huh. What a coincidence.”

“We’ve texted a few times too. Not…full conversations, or anything. Um, just, like, asking if classes are okay, if I need help with anything around campus…if I’d be at the game…” she trails off, looking at me quickly.

I nodded, staring at the grass shifting in the slow breeze. She’s still pretending to type, but it’s been a few minutes since the muted clacks of the keys have hit my ears.

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