Vanni refused to let go of my arm until we were halfway down the street, enthusiasm etched on her face. With her ears perked up and her tail wagging, I saw the young girl I had spent so much of my youth making mischief with.

  That didn’t st long. It was too hard not to see the woman she had grown up into. Not just because, as her mother joked, it was so easy for me to find her attractive. Confidence filled her steps. A sense of self she had never quite had back then, despite her bravado and mischievous pns.

  I sometimes wished I had tried harder to focus my interest in that direction. A two-year age gap was far more acceptable than a sixteen-year one. But something had always told me it wouldn’t work out, and I valued our friendship too much to try.

  As though she could read my mind, she paused, and prodded a finger into my cheek. “You’re having deep thoughts again, dude. Stop thinking weird things about me.”

  “My thoughts are as shallow as a puddle, and never about you,” I procimed, failing to block her poke attack.

  “You think about me all the time.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m amazing.”

  I flicked her forehead. “Is it because you’re amazing? Or is it that you dragged me down the street like a puppy pulling at its lead?”

  “Oh, you did not just use the P word!”

  “What are you going to do about it?” My quick steps barely allowed me to dodge the sp she directed at my chest.

  She growled, and her next strike aimed for dead center. I stepped aside before she unched it. That had always been her favourite tactic, where she would push me onto my ass, and then ugh about my predicament. Without me there to brace her, she stumbled forward, which gave me the perfect opportunity. I ducked low and moved in for the kill.

  “What do you think—” She began, but she cut herself off with a shriek

  I swept her up and threw her over my shoulder. This new position allowed me a rather pleasant view of her rear before her tail smushed itself into my face. The scent of floral shampoo—not what I expected from her—assaulted my nose. Her ughter rang out as her hands lightly pounded against my back. She wiggled, and I shifted my grip on her to make sure she didn’t fall.

  A minute passed before her assault on me ended, and we both simply took a moment to breathe. It was harder for me to draw in air with all the fluff in the way. It was far softer than it had any right to be. Almost pillow-like. Caroline’s was floofier, and that made me wonder what it would be like pressed against my face.

  I wondered if she could feel my blush? Vanni tapped twice on my back. “Alright, enough sniffing my tail, you pervert. Put me down.”

  “Are you going to keep attacking me like a rabid animal?” I shot back, voice muffled.

  “Asshole,” she growled at a volume she clearly didn’t think I could hear, and I did my best not to give the game away. “Put me down right now or I’ll use my cws.”

  “Kinky?”

  Vanni spped at me again even as I put her down. Then she giggled, the sound a juxtaposition with her near all bck tough girl punk attire. She pretended to brush herself off before pointing at my shirt colr. “You have strands on you.”

  I checked and found it clean as a whistle. Her finger flicked my nose, then she strode away before I could finish rubbing at the spot she had heartlessly attacked. She slowed to let me catch up, and together we walked in silence for a while.

  “The fact that you can lift me so easily now is weird,” she said out of the blue. “You used to be the weakest of us.”

  “College changed me, what can I say? You must have noticed.”

  “It didn’t change enough. Clearly.”

  I raised an eyebrow as I gave her a disbelieving look. “Disappointed that I’m not taller?”

  “No, you goof,” she gave an overwrought sigh. “I’m disappointed that you’re still head over heels for my mother.”

  The way she stressed the st word made me freeze for a second, but a tug on my sleeve got me moving again. It was my turn to sigh. This was a conversation that was always going to happen, though I had hoped for more time in town before it came to light. Vanni didn’t sound angry, however, a fact that helped me rex.

  “How long have you known?”

  “Are you serious?” When she met my bnk stare, she scoffed as she hit the button for the crosswalk. “It’s been obvious since waaaay before you left. Anyone who wasn’t willingly ignoring it could tell. You’ve been mooning after her since you were fifteen.”

  My petunt tone grated on my own ears, and I resisted the urge to cross my arms. “I wasn’t mooning over her. It was a little crush, is all.”

  “Please, you followed her around like a baby duckling. Also was implies the past tense.”

  That was only half true, but I didn’t protest her point. What could I say? A majority of teenage boys are awkward around crushes. I wasn’t an exception, despite the age gap and the total ck of reciprocation. Plus, she had always given me things to do, which in a small town with very few entertainment options was a blessing.

  I enjoyed talking to her, even if most of the cooking stuff had gone in one ear and out the other. Moving the boxes and bags was less fun, but she always rewarded me with something sweet after. Vanni and the others weren’t as bad, but I had rarely been alone for those trips.

  As I got older, Caroline delegated more front-of-house work to me. I wondered briefly if that was why I was the only one in my dorm to keep things tidy.

  “Okay, so I was about as subtle as a kick to the dick. It’s been four years. I’ve grown up.” That line sounded good to me.

  “But not grown out of it.” Hers was better, and she followed it up by brushing her shoulder up against mine, the leather jacket smooth against my bare arm. Her way of telling me to pay attention. “Mom’s not blind either, you know? You’re lucky she found your antics back then endearing rather than aggravating.”

  “Believe me, I am well aware.”

  We fell silent once again, and as we reached the top of the hill, I sniffed at the air. The faint scent of spices made my nose itch, and I wondered how strong it must be for Vanni. What used to be George’s diner sat below us. I had no idea how I hadn’t noticed it when driving around today.

  It was no longer the squat single-story building it once had been. Rickety wooden stairs led up to the roof, which now had poles attached to a tarp on each corner. This new owner had expanded the dining section.

  We continued walking and joined the crowd below. It was a collection of overalls and hi-vis vests. Humans and beast kin who worked the mill and the mines. They were a motley group, and the spill of their voices filled the air enough that I wasn’t worried about our conversation being overheard.

  That gave me the courage to ask my next question. “Do you think I’m a crap friend?”

  She didn’t answer right away as we joined the back of the queue. The spice smell intensified, but so did the scent of people who got off work. They were all around us, and a few of the men eyed Vanni. One was a younger wolf beastkin whose dark hair made the paler fur on his ears stand out, gave her a small nod. In return, Vanni grinned and waved back. After a thumbs-up, he looked away.

  I stopped myself from asking what that was about. Four years had passed; she would have her own friends. Those stories would come with time. As we drew closer to the door, the scent of the food only grew heavier. My mouth almost watered at the smell, but I quelled the urge. This conversation was too important to let her think I was too distracted by the food to pay attention.

  Despite my efforts, Vanni still didn’t answer. Instead, her ear flicked, and she nodded her head along to the music. It was a rap song, maybe Russian? I couldn’t be sure. The flow was nice though, even if I didn’t understand a word that was being said. It somehow fit the strangely charged, almost festive, atmosphere of the pce.

  Two rather muscur bear-beastkin women with stubby tails, both wearing hi-vis vests and thick jeans, stood nearby. They compined loudly about the ck of shifts being offered. I tried to tune them out as I let my thoughts run wild. Why wasn’t she answering? Was the answer supposed to be obvious?

  “No.” She didn’t look at me when she spoke, and panic twisted my insides. “I don’t think that. Do I think you’re several strings short of a pyable guitar? Yes. Would I say I think you left any brain cells you had in your dorm room? Also yes.”

  Her words took a moment to register, and I frowned. “So you think I’m both broken and stupid?”

  “Oh good, I was worried you wouldn’t catch that.” Her broad grin stopped my internal squirming.

  We didn’t have time to chat more before it was our turn to get inside. Our hostess was an unfamiliar face turned to us. She was a fox-beastkin. The uniform she wore comprised a light blue short sleeves shirt and jeans, along with a dark green apron, stood out well against clearly fake tanned skin. I wondered how she managed that out here.

  Two pointed red-furred ears poked out through long purple hair tied into a messy ponytail that hung just past her shoulder. The dye was old, at least if the blonde poking from the roots was any indication. Her tail, doubly fluffy as Vanni’s, stood ramrod straight.

  As she looked at me, her green eyes flicking over my form, she gave a rather predatory smile. Under her breath, clearly thinking I couldn’t hear her, she muttered. “Huh, cute.”

  Then she spotted Vanni, who, to my surprise, had taken a step away from me. The fox woman’s grin went from lustful to pstic in half a second. She clutched two menus, which shook slightly.

  “Vanni.” Her clipped professional tone was betrayed by the undercurrent of something else, hurt maybe?

  Vanni’s tail flicked, but only once. “Victoria.”

  I would be the first to admit I wasn’t the best guy at picking up social cues, but even I caught the subtext in this exchange. Vanni shot me a death gre as our hostess stepped forward, her smile all teeth as her hand extended.

  “Hi!” she said, voice overly perky. “I’m Victoria Manson. Your girlfriend and I used to date!”