Page 53 of Midsummer Phoenixes
“You might want to look into using beans.”
“Huh.” He crossed his arms while I bit into my wrap. “I made those chickpea cookies once. Could work. You know, yeah. That could actually work quite nicely. Thanks, Bennet.”
“My pleasure. Are you considering changing careers? You were mentioning all those job opportunities.”
Tate shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, there is this company that can help you. It’s called, uh, something starting with H I think.”
“Hawthorne.”
“Yeah, them. So they can help. But I’m guessing you knew that.”
The wrap was decent, but it wasn’t triglav-made bramboráky. “I heard them mentioned. But do you ever get insecure? Knowing that there are supernaturals all around you?”
Tate took a bite from his own bagel while he thought about that. “Sort of. Since I found out, I’ve always worried a lot about being an asshole to people and not noticing. Now, I’m progressive enough to know that as a white cis dude, I’ve probably done that before anyway, but I don’t mean to, you know? Is that weird?”
Well, I had to give it to Tate. He was less the superficial asshole I’d taken him for. I was totally going to forgive him the fancy water bottle I’d spotted when he’d gone digging for his wallet earlier.
“No, it’s not. Also, most pawns have a hand up over humans given that humans can never tell when someone’s a pawn unless the pawn is non-humanoid and can’t shift.”
Tate swallowed his food. “Pawn’s a little rude to say. I definitely know that.”
“It’s accurate.”
Tate nodded. “I’m guessing you know better than I do. And I didn’t really understand about pawns and cursed anyway. It all sounds so old-fashioned, like something that’s been going on for ages, like something you’d read in a fantasy novel.”
I licked some tomato juice off my thumb. “Is that something that worries you? The way this society is old and has roots that go back in time far beyond most human comprehension?”
Tate giggled. “I wouldn’t go that far. And hey, you totally have a way with words. Are you a writer then?”
I narrowed my eyes, thinking about Mr. Laptop, Amory’s “writer.” That guy was still around, and he always got Amory’s attention.
“No, not a writer. I’m a consultant.”
“Huh.” Tate sounded doubtful. “That sounds interesting.”
“I can’t really talk about work.”
He nodded. “Right. Of course.” He ate a few more bites, almost finishing his bagel, before he said, “Maybe I will. Take a job somewhere I’d never have been able to, before. You know, it’s an opportunity. I’ll admit that I thought it was dangerous or weird or…any of the thoughts I’m sure you had. But at the end of the day, having moved in with the right guy allows me to see the world clearer now, see it more for what it is. And that’s wonderful. As a scientist, I have to embrace that, and as a person, I have to embrace all the different ways in which life is lived around me.”
Well, fuck me, but I’d run into a regular philosopher here.
“You mean that,” I said, not a question, because his facial features were pretty clear about it.
“Yeah, I mean it. I really do. My roomie sometimes doesn’t think so and handles me like I wouldn’t be able to deal with things, but I actually am, you know. I can accept that vampires, werewolves, lizard people, elves are all out there and just want to be.” He gestured at the fucking rainbow menu. “Life is better when it’s more colorful, you know.”
Huh. I could almost see Amory nod along to all of that. I opened my mouth to say something, stopped. This human, just like Amory, had come into my world with a kiss. Well, no, that wasn’t true. I had no evidence Tate had kissed his roommate except my instincts, and Amory had been sucked into it when he’d watched me getting murdered. But I had kissed him. I had tried so hard to take the horror away, in whatever way I could.
And maybe I hadn’t needed to do all that. Maybe discovering the wonder in this new world was enough for someone born human. For someone born kind.
I cleared my throat. “That’s very insightful, Tate.” I stood, almost ignoring my tray, but Amory wouldn’t like that, so I picked it up. “I’m afraid I have to go to another appointment right now. Thank you for showing me around.”
Tate looked surprised. “Right. My pleasure. And see you for class, Bennet.”
I didn’t correct him as I walked to the counter, handed my tray to the shivering pawn, and held Ella’s gaze for as long as it took me to leave.
The principal had been the most boring person ever. He was a vampire, well-acquainted with Valentin, and he’d known I was on the grounds. He’d not been scared of me, had simply taken my complaint and promised he’d do a school-wide training in cursive, graded, and because he and his Windsor knot wanted to piss me off, he decided on the spot to also introduce typing classes.
Fucker.
