Page 18 of My Pucking Life

Surprisingly, Fran is dressed in more normal clothing today, forgoing her usual all-black tactical vibes. She even made herself comfortable on the bench outside Cool Beans after watching me enter, without a short lecture about why she should be within arm's reach of me or something.

When the door closes behind me and takes the cool air with it, I consider that I might have overdressed for the chill as I quickly start warming up. I'm wearing a fuzzy baby-powder-pink sweater with slits up the sides, light gray fleece-lined leggings, and my black combat boots. My hair is tied up in a slick back ponytail with a puffy white scary wrapped around my neck.

Fate pulling me to Roman has to be why I decided to go to college in freaking Ohio. I hate the cold. Always have. My parents luckily didn't have many cold-weather assignments throughout my life. I remember becoming immensely thankful for that when we took the trip to Finland. They were asked to photograph one of those new destination resorts with the glass igloos and northern lights. Was it one of the single most beautiful things I’d ever seen in my entire life? Abso-fucking-lutely. Is it one of my favorite pictures of us as a family that's now resting on my bedside table at home? Yup. But it was so cold I felt like my bones were frozen and my brain couldn't even work. I'm just not hardwired that way, apparently.

Now that I think about it, I wonder if it was because of my wolf being suppressed because, I just realized, I wasn't cold at the full moon thingy at the pack lands recently when I would have normally been freezing. I've always been easily chilled.

I tuck that thought away for later when Willa rises from a table near the window—Fran will love this—to hug me.

“Leera! It's so good to see you again. How is everything? Oh, here, I took the opportunity to grab us both some coffee. I assumed you liked yours sweet, but let me know if I'm wrong, and I'll grab you something else.” She radiates warmth and happiness, and I couldn't contain the smile on my face if I wanted to.

I hug her fiercely. “You didn't have to do that, but thank you! I do love my coffee very sweet,” I beam at her as we settle into our seats, and I continue, “Mostly really great, but the bad is still braided in there, unfortunately.”

She's sipping her coffee when I say that, and her brows scrunch together as she sets her deep green Cool Beans mug down on the table. “How much more bad? How bad?”

Allowing myself a nice long sip of my coffee, I gather myself and tell her absolutely everything that's happened since I last saw her. I had intended to not be quite so blunt about everything, but she's the only person that I feel I can really talk to and completely be myself with. Runa doesn't want to hear about the mushy stuff with Roman and me. Zoey can't know anything about the rest of my world. So, I let it all out. Every hairy detail. Though a sentence or two into my word-vomit, Willa did hold up a hand for me to pause while she mumbled a little to herself. Then she explained that she had placed a sound barrier around us so that our conversation would be completely private.

By the time I was finished, she just stared at me for a moment, obviously still processing everything, so I went ahead and threw in, “Soooo, that's the reason I wanted to meet up. I needed to get all that off my chest, but I—er, we—were hoping you knew something about how we could find out what that prophecy was.”

She nods, more to herself, and finishes off her coffee, then carefully sets it down with both hands, watching it all the way, before slowly bringing her eyes back up to mine. “Before we go any further, are you okay?”

An unexpected laugh escapes me. “I mean, yeah, I think so. I kind of have to be.” I keep on laughing nervously. She leans across the table, taking my small pale, hand in her warm, motherly, dark one, and softly rubs her thumb against my skin. “No, you don't, Leera. It's okay to not be okay. You know that, don't you?”

I intend to nod, but, instead, my head takes on a mind of its own and just kind of bobs around. “I mean, I obviously know it's okay, but I don't want to be. You know? Like…if I let myself not be okay, then it’ll pull me down and the weight of everything that just keeps coming will crush me…As long as I force myself into my positive bubble and handle things step-by-step, I feel like I have some kind of control over the situation.” I release a big breath that I’d been holding in while trying to get that all out at once.

She's just nodding again; her gaze feels like she can see everything. “That makes perfect sense. Just promise me, if you need to take the time to not be okay, you'll let someone know so we can be there to help.”

“I promise,” I say with a large smile on my face, pushing the negatives back down into their hole where they belong.

“Now,” Willa begins, leaning back into her own seat. “Regarding the prophecy.”

I lean forward, hanging on her every word.

“There is a place where all prophecies are kept. We don't know why they began to gather there, but once we discovered it, we were able to keep it protected—”

“Perfect! Where is it?”

She smiles fondly at me. “That's the thing. It's not here.”

“What, like, not near campus? That's fine; I wouldn't expect it to be.”

She releases a light chuckle, shaking her head. “No, Leera, it's not in the human realm. It's in Sabbax. And the only ones with access are the royal family and the Keeper.”

“Oh, snot. Why did I think this would be simple?” I ask, locking my hands together with my elbows on the table, leaning my face against my hands. “What can I do?” I ask quietly, losing steam.

She looks over my head, almost like she's investigating the decorations or the single cobweb between the dark-green walls and the off-white ceiling. I allow her a few minutes to think before piping in, “Willa?”

She visibly shakes off the thoughts or visions she was having. “Sorry, I was looking back through my memory surrounding the rules of accessing prophecies. My last understanding was that, because they have been outlawed and should not be obtained, the person whom the prophecy belongs to cannot claim it. A meeting can be requested with the Queen, and you may explain the situation to her. She will then decide whether or not to grant you access and knowledge to the prophecy's information.” She taps her chin in thought. “I believe she has allowed it a couple of times when there was a great threat,” she finishes, her eyes coming back to now and not the memories in her mind.

I nod my head like I’m keeping up. “Okay…so…two things: One, can you send all of that to me in a text or email so I don't get anything wrong when I relay it to Roman and the guys? Two, are you telling me I would have to go to Sabbax? Am I even allowed there?”

Her warm brown features soften, and she raises her pointer finger. “One, yes, I'll just send it straight to Roman. He gave me his number after our last encounter.” She smiles and adds her middle finger, now looking like she's throwing up a peace sign. “Two, yes, you would have to go to Sabbax to obtain the prophecy as long as you get approval and are allowed to go. If you all coordinate schedules with me, especially if it's during a break, I would be honored to accompany you…should I use your royal title?”

I shake my head with a smile. “Oh, gosh, no, please…ha! I mean, no, thank you. I'm not ready for all that.” I fidget with the ends of my scarf. “The guys said we'll tackle that together when I'm ready…but…I honestly have no idea when that will be.”

She nods again. “There's nothing wrong with that; take all the time you need.” She reaches across the table, patting my fidgeting hands with hers, and her watch flashes awake at the movement. “Oh, I didn't realize the time; I still have another appointment today. Sorry to run! Text me,” she finishes as she scrambles to throw her coat on and bolts out of the coffee shop.

I let myself settle into my seat, and Fran takes the opportunity to make her way in and sit across from me. Not saying anything, of course. Just waiting. And watching. I wrap my arms around my middle, processing everything she's just told me. While processing, I jolt with the realization that at some point in the very near future, I will be journeying to the realm of the witches.

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