shouldn’t be too difficult to try and find books on the topics I needed. I would have to go the day after tomorrow, because I was pulling long hours at the restaurant tomorrow, right after I finished my day shift at Cream of the Cup. But, with the next day off, I knew it wouldn’t be a problem. The only problem I’d have would be the waiting and the patience—neither of which I was really good at doing.
I closed my laptop and blew out a breath, my shoulders automatically lowering with my exhale. I hadn’t felt this tense for a long time, not since I was seven, and it was starting to get to me. Too bad I couldn’t play mind games with myself and forget everything that had happened in these past few days and return to normal Emily Chaucer.
But as much as I tried to focus on going back to sleep, on burying the consequences and ignoring the repercussions of failing to fix this, I couldn’t deny the growing fear that in truth, I was never going to be normal again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I woke up feeling back to normal, with no residual dreams or worrisome feelings haunting me. But after my shower, I ran a comb through my wet hair and sighed when it got stuck in tangles. A glance in my bathroom mirror told me my regular, pale skin was back, too. Not a sparkle to be found in my dark blue eyes, either, not even after two cups of strong, black coffee. I felt a sense of relief at this, even though I hated my hair with a passion and couldn’t help but enjoy my mysterious physical transformation over the weekend.
My mind tricks weren’t working as well, either. I attempted the coffee ploy again on my usual bodega guy while buying a bagel, and while it worked and he sucked back a large iced coffee, it took a huge amount of effort on my part. My forehead actually broke out in a sweat when I tried to do it. I shrugged it off, not too concerned. Frankly, I didn’t really know what to do with that power, so it was probably better that it went away on its own. Then maybe, hopefully, I could just return to normal. Two days of being abnormal were enough for me.
Once I arrived at the coffee shop, I found Macy waiting at an empty table, her foot tapping impatiently as she scrolled through her phone.
“You ready for work?” she looked up and asked as I approached her, munching on my bagel.
My chewing slowed. I instantly became suspicious. Macy, while a great friend, was not known to come to my work solely to greet me at the start of my shifts. Not unless she was up to something.
“Yep, sure am. But I guess Rob isn’t meeting you this morning,” I said, watching carefully for her reaction.
“Who? Rob Pearson? It was one night, dude.” She slapped me in the arm. “Stop bringing up my sexcapades!”
I sighed. It looked like Rob Morrow was still a figment of my imagination and that Macy still had no recollection of finding me on a rooftop Friday night.
“Never mind,” I said as I finished my bagel. “Why do you ask? Why are you so weirdly excited about my shift?”
She smiled. “Because I hear a certain handsome new boy will be joining us this morning.”
“Okay,” I said, unsure what to make of her scheming face.
“I might have texted a certain handsome new boy to come over here.” She smiled wider.
“What are you planning?”
She ignored me. “Stop fake-delaying. Go on!” she said, gesturing to the basement door.
When all I did was stare back, unamused, Macy playfully nudged me in the direction of the stairs. I relented, mostly because I was only able to take so much of her bony elbows digging into my side. I swatted her away.
“And why you get a bagel at a cheap food cart instead of the free pastries you get here, I’ll never know,” she called after me as I hip-bumped through the basement door. I waved my hand at her in response.
As I stuffed my things into my locker, I tried to focus on the new autumn-inspired latte recipes instead of the clenching hunger pains in my stomach. The bagel