Page 64
“It was hard. Almost pissed myself, if I’m being honest.”
“That would have been embarrassing for a ladies’ man like yourself.”
He squints at me.
“Oh, come on, Oli. How many babes did you have back in the day? I bet you were such a fuck boy.”
“Back in the day?” he says, voice hoarse. “I’m only sixty-five, not ancient, ya dick.”
I tip my head and study his face. “Huh, could have fooled me.”
“You’re an ass,” he says. “A right pain in my ass.”
I place my hands on my chest. “You’re so sweet.”
“See how sweet I am when I fire you,” he grumbles, but there’s no heat in his words.
“You won’t fire me, you like my company too much.”
He sighs. “It surprises me that I do,” he admits.
My chest warms. Oliver is kind, he’s a good employer, and despite all my jaded thoughts, I’m starting to think people can be good.
“What’s the struggle with Carver?”
“It’s not him so much as me,” I confess.
“Why do you say that?”
I fidget with my necklace. Does he really care? What’s the worst that can happen if I tell him the truth? It might be nice to tell someone outside the student body, plus, he’s been around long enough to have worldly experience. Maybe he knows of someone like me.
“I’m having trouble accessing my magic.”
He frowns. “What’s Carver say?”
“That I need to learn to relax.” I shrug. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with it. I asked Professor Girdle if it was possible for a paranormal being to not have magic, and he basically said no, and if it were, they may as well be human.”
“Don’t listen to that asshat,” Oliver grumbles. “He’s been a dick for as long as I can remember. He loves being miserable.”
“What if he’s right, though?”
“That you’re human?” Oliver asks with a scoff. “There’s no way in the Goddess-blessed world you’re human. You just need to give it time. Maybe you’re having performance anxiety.”
“Like you on a date?” I quip to keep things from getting too serious.
Oliver chuckles, neck flushing. “That’s it, you’re done. Get to work.”
“You’re the one who asked the question!”
“I didn’t ask for insults to my manhood.”
“I didn’t insult your manhood, but if you took it that way, I guess that means maybe I’m right?”
Oliver’s laugh follows me outside.
The pre-dawn birds and I have become fast friends. Or so I like to think. They chirp and tweet their greetings as I make my way through my route. It’s interesting. They follow such a consistent path. Every morning they’re up and singing at the same time. They tend to their young. Chase off the birds of prey. Fly around catching bugs and insects. And the cycle repeats.
Just like the birds, everything in the paranormal world seems to follow a pattern, which only makes my lack of affinities even more frustrating.
