“Hi!” There really wasn’t any reason in the world for me to feel guilty, visions of girls naked in jello being completely reasonable fantasies, all things considered. So there was no reason to feel like my, “Hi!” was a little rushed, a little loud, a little too friendly. I’ve had days where it seemed like my volume control was off – where stress made it sticky towards the loud side or something, but as far as I knew, this wasn’t one of them.

“Um, hi. You sound better,” she said, and I was completely overanalyzing her tone of voice, I know, but was there a little bit of reluctance there? A little bit of distance?

“I believe I have you in part to thank for that,” I said, trying to make it sound casual at once but also giving credit where credit was due. “So, thank you,” I added just to be certain.

“You’re welcome,” she responded. No, I wasn’t imagining it.  There was a certain flatness in her tone, and it wasn’t exactly distant, but more, I don’t know…wary?

“I got your message,” she started.

I was hit with this sudden, instant decision point, do I interrupt and try to downplay it as nothing important, or do I let her turn me down? The instant passed me by, and I had to focus to hear, “–love to go. I’ve just not been there before, so I’m not sure – is there a formal dress etiquette? White tie? Black tie?” she asked.

I blinked. I hoped I didn’t leave her waiting too long as I processed an answer. “No, I mean, I thought to dress up in Denver was a silk shirt, jeans, and maybe a pair of boots,” I offered. I couldn’t remember anything more than, “Not fat, compliment something specific,” rules about when women asked about clothing and added, perhaps belatedly, “But I’ll be in something a little nicer. It’s my treat and all.”

“That works,” she decided, and it sounded definitely more confident. “Is it too late to make reservations?”

I glanced at my watch. “Shouldn’t be. You’re not skipping class on my account, right?” I asked, trying desperately not to sound like a parent.  I wasn’t that much older than her, right?

I could hear her smile. “No, we’re good. Um.” Then there was a hesitation I could feel rather than hear. I waited it out. “There’s not going to be anything weird between you and Maggie, right?”

I considered. “No. We’re over,” I said, maybe a bit too quickly, but what the heck. “I mean, I hope we can be friends. I think she wants to be, and, well, I’m just glad that it’s a possibility.” I shrugged, but I didn’t know if she could hear it. “We can work well together, but that’s all it should be. Work.” I was probably being a bit too candid.

“Good. And, um, your guardian and guide?”

I was tongue-tied for a minute. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” I managed.

“You’re not one of Matana’s thralls or anything, right?” she asked. I could tell she was teasing.

I laughed. “This was not the third-degree I was expecting!” I protested.

“You just seem to have a whole lot of weirdness going on that I’m not used to.”  She laughed.  “Well, I mean, I did just join an actual coven of witches, I met a vampire who is studying werewolf physiology, and I have a date with a fellow who had a run in with a Dragon.  So maybe it’s me.”

“It’s a date then?” I asked.  I tried to make it sound funny, kind of casual.

“Hah!” She laughed.

I don’t know what made me say it.  Maybe I was under some kind of spell.  “I talked to Rohana,” I admitted.

Sylvia’s demeanor changed, and I could feel a chill coming from her voice. “Oh. What did she have to say?”

“Something about naked jello wrestling, but I kind of got stuck on the image so I don’t know if there was anything else,” I admitted, somewhat teasingly. Hey, a guy can hope, can’t he?

“Hah! She would!” I heard, accusingly. “Tell her I saw you first.”

“Dibsies. Gotcha,” I grinned.

“Nah, I can handle her,” Sylvie sounded amused. “Super strength glue when and where she’s not expecting it. Hexes that ruin the elastic in her underwear, if she wears any, that tart!  That sort of thing.”

“Now, girls, don’t fight over me.” A little bit of taunting in my voice.

“We only fight for principles,” Sylvia suggested. “This isn’t fighting.  This is…  guerilla man-staking.”

“I know what ‘painstaking’ is. Man-staking? Should we go back to the Matana question?”

“Maggie’s had you tagged as hers for too long. Besides, competition is good for us.  We’ll use you for…” she took a moment to let my brain fill in all sorts of unlikely scenarios, and then ended with, “practice.”

“Not target practice, I hope.  I think I’m scared.”  Well, if I hadn’t had the aforementioned run ins with Dragons, I might have found this scary.  Relationships… alright, they still had their fears, but I was ready for them.

“You’re the one who did full disclosure.” I was about to protest and explain my non-jerkhood when she added, “You should be.”

“Oh. Thanks,” I said, the smile set to take the bite out of the sarcasm.

“Anytime. Do you need a ride?” she asked.

“How about I pick you up?”  Awfully gallant of me, eh?

“Bit of a drive,” she mulled aloud. “But I won’t turn it down.” There was a loud knocking sound. “That must be one of my roommates. Hold on a second,” she said.

I heard her crossing the room, and opening a door.  There was a banging noise, like something hitting something wooden.  Well, as much as I could tell in the translation from audio to digital and back.  I heard something like a shriek cut off as my phone suddenly flashed, “Call lost,” and the number of minutes we’d stayed connected.

I stared at the phone for a moment, waiting for her to call back.