Settling In

"So, we'll put you down for the "Evolution of the Popular Novel: Mystery", and you said you were interested in the course on Bronte..."

"Right, but I'm not really interested in the Pop Novel: Romance section. Do I really have to take it?"

"Well, no. You don't have to. But I'd like to see you register for the set. It might give you some ideas about where the thesis can go."

"I hate romance novels," Cassie muttered.

Philip chuckled. "Well, if we could all get through our education without reading a single book we didn't like the world might be a better place. But then again, it might not. It'll be good for you. Just think, you'll see the world from a whole different perspective when it's over."

"What doesn't kill me can only make me stronger," she said, flatly.

"Exactly."

What she really wanted was to get the whole course selection out of the way. She was having more difficulty than she'd thought choosing which classes to take. Plus, though she needed a full credit in the field her thesis would be about, there was only one half-credit in being offered in mystery novels. For some reason the Gothic Fiction course she was supposed to take had been cancelled. It was turning into a scheduling nightmare, and it might mean she had to change the thesis topic she'd planned on.

At least she liked her advisor. Professor Philip Light was somewhere approaching middle-aged, and looked like everything you'd expect from an English professor, down to the tweed jacket and the glasses so round they should only really be referred to as "spectacles". The only thing he didn't have was a charming British accent. He also wasn't aloof. "Oh please, call me Philip," he said when she'd first greeted him.

It was going to be a pleasure working with him for the semester. At least, Cassie hoped so.

They'd spent the morning going over the marking schemes for the university, and what he would be expecting from her when she worked as his assistant. He had a small table in the corner of his office he said she could use as a desk. When he cleared it of all of his books and papers, of course. Right now it was rather cluttered.

"I have an office in my apartment, so I can work from there," she told him.

"You can? Oh, that's wonderful," he'd said, looking very relieved. "My last assistant had so many roommates she wasn't able to work at home, and as you can see with the office, it's quite cramped for two people."

Cassie had nodded, but hadn't mentioned that she also hated the idea of having someone sitting behind her while she was working. It felt too much like having a manager stare at you to see if you were doing your job right.

Once he'd explained to her what her paying job would be, they'd switched over to academics, to talk about what her student work would be like.

"So for the third seminar," Philip said. "What did you want to take?"

Cassie frowned. There was nothing left that she wanted to take, really. "The half-credit in Freud and Children's Literature, I guess."

"Are you sure? You don't sound enthused."

"Well, like you say, I can't love all of the topics."

***

"Can I help you?"

Cassie looked up from a display case full of quartz crystals. "Um ... no thanks. I'm just ... just looking," she said, and managed a smile. In fact, every instinct was screaming "Not your kind of place! Not your kind of place!" but she knew that was irrational. What could hurt her in ye olde magicke shoppe, after all?

"Well, just let me know if you need help with anything," the saleslady said, and drifted away in a tinkle of bells. Cassie couldn't tell if it was her scarf or some hidden piece of jewelry that was making the noise, and she wasn't sure whether she was amused or disturbed by it.

Gilhen had promised to meet her here after he left work. Cassie checked her watch. It was quarter past the hour already, which probably meant that either he was talking to someone, or he'd forgotten.

I should've just met him at work. Why did he tell me to meet him here?

She moved on to the next display. There were tarot cards in this one. She admired the art for a while and moved on. Eventually she heard the bell above the shop door jangle, and Gilhen walked in. The staff just nodded at him -- of course, they would know him here. He met Cassie by the display cases.

"How's it going?" he asked quietly.

"Well, I've been here about ten minutes and I doubt I'll find anything that'll help." Cassie held up a bag containing candles made from walnut shells. "Fairy lanterns? With a disclaimer on the back that says 'may not attract actual fairies'?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They're cute, but not what I brought you here to look at. Besides, the last thing you need right now is to invite the Sidhe into your apartment."

"Oh, of course," Cassie put the bag back down.

"Over here," Gilhen said, steering her toward the bookshelves.

"You really think they're going to have something here that will help?"

"Well, I don't know for sure, of course, but anything's better than what you've got."

"Better than nothing, you mean."

"Well, yeah." Gilhen was running his fingers along the spines of books. "Here, you see if there's anything interesting in this one."

"An Idiot's Guide to Ghosts? Are you sure about this?"

"There might be a section on exorcisms," he said. "Just look." With that, he opened his own book and started to read. Cassie sighed and did the same.

When she put the book down in disgust, Gilhen silently put it back and handed her another one. And then a third.

"There's nothing in these books that I can use," she said, in an exasperated whisper. "They all talk about how to see ghosts, but don't talk about how to stop seeing them. Who are these people who want this? Are they stupid?"

"Here," Gilhen said. "This one has some exercises that are supposed to balance you out."

"That's not going to solve my problem." She took the book.

"Well, no, but it might help with how often you see them, and how you can't control it."

"Can I help you guys, maybe with a recommendation?" The bell-jangly saleslady was back again.

"No, really. We're okay here," Cassie said.

"All right. Let me know if you need anything." The woman smiled and drifted away again. Cassie watched her go, and waited until she was far enough away for her to feel comfortable reading again.

"This is hopeless," she told Gilhen quietly.

"Keep looking. There aren't that many books left. We might as well check them all."

In the end, Cassie only bought the last book Gilhen had recommended. Maybe more organized thoughts would help her. She'd heard meditation was good for stress levels, anyway.

And I could use some reduced stress in my life right now.

***

The phone rang.

Cassie patted the couch beside her, looking for her bookmark. The clock said it was 11:00 at night. Who would be calling? Gilhen maybe? The bookmark was proving elusive. The phone rang a second time.

"Damn it," she said, and stood up. The bookmark fluttered to the floor.

She made a flying leap for the phone as it began its third ring, banging her shin on the side of the coffee table as she went.

"Ow! Damn it! Hello?"

"Hi...is Cassie there?"

"Hey, you!"

"Hey yourself. What's happened?"

"Oh, I just banged my knee getting to the phone. How come you're calling so late?"

"Late? Late? It's early where I am."

"And were are you?"

"Prague?"

"Prague?"

"Praaague. You'd love it. It's beautiful here."

"Especially this early in the morning, hmm?"

"Something like that."

"Have you been drinking?"

"Drinking? Drinking? Me? We had a show tonight. Of course I've been drinking."

"It figures."

"Why, do I sound drunk?"

"A little, yeah."

"Damn, I didn't think I was that far gone. I just called you cause I couldn't sleep."

"Oh, I'm your cure for insomnia now? 'Oh yeah, I'll just call Cassie. She's boring. She'll put me right to sleep'?"

"Yeesh, I can't do anything right. You complain when I don't call, then when I call, what do you do? You complain."

"Well, you're the one who insulted me."

"I did not insult you.... Okay fine. I called you 'cause you're boring. Now bore me. How's school going?"

"Pretty good, actually. Classes start tomorrow."

"Ooh, am I keeping you up, then?"

"You don't even know what time it is here, do you?"

"Not a clue."

"It's eleven. No you are not keeping me up. I was just doing some reading."

"Reading? For school?"

"Yeah, for one of my classes."

"Already? What classes are you taking?"

"This is for the Bronte one. Well, one the two classes I got that I actually wanted to take, 'cause there's been fuckups with the scheduling."

"Aww, no..."

"Yeah. But the prof I'll be working for is great. Really nice. I'll be busy, though. It'll be a couple of weeks before the real work starts, but once the first-year papers start coming in to be marked, I'm toast."

"Yeah. That's the part I always hated. The essays. Is it weird to be back again?"

"Oh yeah. I'm glad I came back, though. I'm starting to remember all of the things I enjoyed about school."

"What about all of the things you didn't enjoy?"

"Well, I haven't hit those yet. But call me in a couple of weeks and I'll let you know. Anyway, what's up at your end? How was the show?"

"Cass, you have no idea how popular we are over here. It's insane. They're lined up at the hotels. I feel like a star."

"You may not have noticed, but you already are a star."

"Yeah, I know, but we're not this big at home."

"Well, I'm glad you're having a good time."

"Yeah, it's nice, but I'm tired."

"And yet you can't sleep?"

"You know how it is. I've got the middle-of-the-road blahs. The songs all sound the same, the cities are all starting to look the same, I'm beginning to doubt that my bandmates are even human..."

"Aah. That. I wish I could help."

"You could come visit for a week. That'd break up the monotony."

"Yes, with school starting, I could ditch my responsibilities here and go carousing with you and your brother for a wild, wild week."

"We'd love to have you, any time."

"I really wish I could. Call me sometime around spring break."

"We'll be back by then."

"Oh well. Another time, then. What was that?"

"Oh, you know, just Kenny busting into my room. He seems to think he's entitled."

"...s that?"

"It's Cassie."

"Hey 'Sandra!"

"Tell him I said hello."

"She says hey."

"... talk ... few...ute?

"If he needs to talk, I can let you go."

"Yeah, I'd better go. I'll try to call you next week though."

"Right. I'll talk to you then. Enjoy Europe. Rock the house and all that."

"We will. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

***

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