"Are you serious?" Alicia asked the student cashier, her voice appalled and her eyes wide. "Like, one-hundred percent, totally, absolutely, positively serious?"

The boy behind the counter, who looked bored beyond belief, nodded sluggishly. "Yeah; we don't have any rentals or used versions, so they're all at normal, new-book price."

"I swear to all things holy," Beverly's friend muttered as she pulled out her wallet and handed over her student ID and credit card with a fearsome glower, "this is insanity. Highway robbery. A Ponzi scheme!"

Beverly chuckled, passing the now-startled boy an apologetic smile. "You're not wrong, Alicia, but I don't think it's his fault."

"Well it's someone's fault," Alicia grumbled unhappily, snatching her now-bagged books and cards. "Besides, I might need a hostage if I decide to confront whoever is responsible, and he looks like an appropriate target."

"She won't take you hostage," Beverly reassured the student, before turning to her friend and grinning. "Coffee makes you hostile; have you considered switching to tea?"

Deflating, Alicia huffed and spun around, leading Beverly out of the bookstore. "Oh, hush, Bev. You and I both know that the price of textbooks is beyond outrageous. And I tried to switch to tea, but I hate all the flavors unless it's traditional sweet iced tea, but iced tea is too cold in the winter."

"Why can't you just make traditional sweet tea, but just drink it hot instead of cold? Won't it be the same flavor?"

"Beverly," Alicia sent her a disgusted look. "Please. Of course it won't—iced tea is iced tea; it's impossible to get the same flavor if it's not iced."

Shaking her head with a laugh, Beverly tightened her hold on her own bag of expensive textbooks and nudged Alicia's shoulder. "It's nice to see you again, Alicia." And it really was. Between her nightmares, medicine, painful twinges, Griffin's worry, and the Cynthia-Francis drama, it had been hard for Beverly to feel like a normal college student. Being with Alicia was a nice, relaxing reprieve from everything that had been going on lately and reminded her of how much she enjoyed the other girl.

Alicia halted halfway to the school's main entrance, and Beverly copied her actions, growing inwardly alarmed when she saw the serious, almost pained look on the other girl's face. "I'm glad you're okay, Bev," Alicia confessed, shuffling her textbooks to one arm so she could pull Beverly into a tight hug. "I was really worried about you."

Beverly could only imagine how it must've felt to get a call while away on a break, only to hear that Oh, yeah, your closest friend here at school? Yeah, she's in the hospital with a gunshot wound because she's an idiot that can't keep her nose in her own business. How's your break going, though?

Yeah, that must've sucked.

Returning Alicia's hug as well as she could with an armful of textbooks, Beverly smiled softly when the other girl pulled away. "Thanks for being here, Alicia; it means a lot to me."

"Of course, Bev, what else are BFFs for?"

"Right," Beverly grinned. "Who would've thought?" she mused, "A computer sciences major and a future teacher being best friends—what a shocker!"

This pulled a giggle from Alicia, and the two started walking once more. "I think it makes sense," Alicia said. "I'll assign all my students with papers, and you'll make sure Wikipedia doesn't crash while they're using it as their source, even though I told them not to."

"That's not exactly what I'll be doing."

"Not that you know of yet, but it very well could be."

"Sure, Alicia."

They remained on other, easier topics for the rest of their walk, and Beverly grinned for an entirely different reason when they made it to the main building on campus and she spied a familiar SUV waiting in the roundabout that acted as a pick-up/drop-off point for students and delivery trucks.

"Tell Cynthia I said, 'hi,'" Alicia murmured into Bev's ear when she had pulled the girl into a final hug. "I've got to drop these books off at my dorm before I scoot over to work. See you, Bev!" And then the girl was gone, and Beverly turned and climbed into Cynthia's car, eyeing the woman carefully as she got settled into the passenger seat.

Cynthia had texted Beverly thirty minutes prior, asking where the younger girl was and if everything was alright, before offering to pick Beverly up on the way back to her house.

"Hey, Miss Bev," Cynthia greeted casually, as though she hadn't dragged Beverly to Silvertone early in the morning before abandoning the girl to have a long-awaited conversation with the man she was still in love with. "Did you get what you need?"

Beverly passed the woman a nod of confirmation as she set the books down by her feet. "Yeah; I think I'm pretty much prepared for another semester, now." How did everything go with Francis? The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she caught them just before they slipped past her lips.

There, that wasn't so hard! She cheered, mentally patting herself on the back for her restraint. Really, staying out of other people's business was going to be a piece of cake, if this situation was any indication.

"That's wonderful," Cynthia agreed with a kind smile as she pulled away from the college. "I must admit, though, that Griffin is going to miss seeing you all the time when he's not at work; now you'll have homework to do."

"What happened with Francis?"

Oh. My. God. Beverly, what in the heck are you doing? What happened to staying out of her business?

Grimacing at her sudden lack of a filter, Beverly sunk deeper into her seat with flushed cheeks, mumbling a soft, "Sorry—ignore me."

Cynthia only chortled loudly, the sound easing Beverly's tense frame slightly. "It's fine, Miss Bev," she managed to get out through her amused chuckles. "I'm surprised you didn't ask as soon as you got in the car, if I'm being honest."

"I certainly wanted to," was out of Beverly's mouth in the next instant, and she groaned. "Sorry!"

Another round of laughter came from Griffin's godmother. "Beverly, it's fine, I'm serious. You have my trust now; you've more earned it, after everything you've done for my godson and me."

Beverly wasn't sure she'd done all that much besides causing a lot of trouble and headaches, but she waited patiently nevertheless, her eyes trained on Cynthia as the older woman began to speak.

"Francis apologized, again," she snorted, her red hair bobbing around her chin as she shook her head with clear exasperation. "It's no one's fault but my own, of course, that he's had to work so hard for my forgiveness, but my God, the man practically fell to his feet." Though Cynthia's expression spoke of irritation, Beverly didn't miss the fondness in the woman's eyes—no doubt she'd known what Francis would do and had taken comfort in the fact that she still remembered the man's habits.

"Anyway," Cynthia's fingernails tapped idly against the steering wheel as they waited at the final stoplight before the highway leading out of the city. "After I finally forgave him, we talked it out. I'm not ready to jump right back into a relationship, of course, contrary to the greeting I gave him," she shot Beverly a quick wink, "but we're going to try. Better late than never, I suppose, and Francis . . ."

Cynthia trailed off for a moment, and even though her gaze was on the road, Beverly could tell the woman's thoughts were faraway. "Well, he's definitely different now, if nothing else. He reminds me of the boy I met in a grocery store, back when I was dreaming of owning my own coffeeshop; when Silvertone first became big, he wasn't that boy anymore."

Beverly smiled softly at the reminder of the sweet story Francis had told her. "I think losing you helped him get back on track."

Her words brought a huff of laughter from Cynthia. "I think a lot of things helped him get 'back on track,' but thank you, Beverly." Her voice grew softer and vulnerable, "I just hope things can work out."

Beverly reached over the center console and squeezed the older woman's elbow encouragingly. "It will. You're both willing to try, and that's half the battle right there."

"Ah, Miss Bev," Cynthia passed the younger girl an appreciative glance. "Griffin has always told me you're smart; it's nice to know he's not wrong."

Beverly snorted, pulling her hand from her boyfriend's godmother and sinking back into her seat. "I'm not sure I would say that, but thanks nonetheless."

"Oh, anytime at all. Now, what's this about a date? Griffin mentioned something earlier, and I want all the details."

Beverly didn't stop an agonized groan from slipping past her lips. Her own mother was bad enough about such topics; Cynthia was a hundred times worse, and Beverly was stuck in a car (and house) with the woman.

Oh, God help me.