jerk to Andrew for making him think our fight was over one thing, when I was really just trying to keep him from getting murdered. He said I was treating him like a child."
"Evan's smart like that."
"And he also said it was fine to stand by that decision, but I should at least tell him my reasons," Autumn continued. "V, I'm not saying take him back or let him throw away an awesome opportunity. I'm saying that maybe you should tell him you love him so much, you won't be the reason he chucks his dreams in the garbage."
Veronica groaned, bowing her head in shame. "Maybe... I wish I knew for sure what would happen, you know?"
"Magic 8 ball?" Autumn suggested lightly.
"Ooh! No, but you've got the right idea. I need a psychic!"
Autumn made no secret of her disapproval. "No such thing. Sham artists, maybe."
"Says the woman who solved the case of a serial killer with help from his dead victims?" Veronica snorted in disbelief. "I admit that most of them are completely full of shit, but the real deal exists. Gabriel sees this one woman that he swears by."
Autumn rolled her eyes as Veronica began rummaging through her purse, yanking out assorted pieces of paper and business cards. This is all Andrew's fault. I'm no good at Girls' Night Out. I don't distract; I just amplify the irrationality. When her friend squealed at a small rectangle in her palm, Autumn knew there would be no easy night in at Veronica's place with a bottle of Grey Goose.
"Got it! She's only two blocks away. C'mon!"
"Veronica, seriously?"
Tossing the remnants of her sundae into a nearby trash can, Veronica stared her down. "I went into creepy, gross tunnels with you. I helped cover for your aborted attempt at virginity banishment prior to Osheaga. I even bought condoms for you when you were too shy!"
Autumn felt her skin flush. "Okay, okay! If you shut up right now about all of the dirt you have on me, you can drag me along as an observer to your psychic, alright?"
Looping an arm through Autumn's, Veronica grinned. "Alright babe, we're off to see the wizard!"
"Let's ease on down the damn road already. These shoes were not made for walking."
Gabriel's psychic was located just steps from the New York University campus—logical, given his attendance there. It was Veronica’s initial enrollment at NYU (now deferred due to the show) that had led to her moving in with Gabriel. A few years older, Gabriel Medina was gay and very much out, advocating for LGBTQ rights between auditions for television and film. His psychic—billed on the sign out front as Madame Audrina—kept shop in the lower half of a two-storey home near the south end of campus. The neon sign in the front window shimmered, insisting that yes, the psychic was in and available at nine on a Monday evening.
"I can't believe you're making me come along for this," Autumn grumbled. "You know I love you, right?"
"I know!" Veronica chirped happily. "C'mon: a storm's a-brewing in that sky and I refuse to let my legit Louboutins gets wrecked after only a week of joy."
With a renewed spring in her step—perhaps out of a desire to preserve her shoes—Veronica jammed the door buzzer with vigor. Reluctantly, Autumn joined her, huddling beneath the tiny overhang that longed to be part of a real porch. Several moments passed before a woman in her mid-forties, clad in black tank top and hip-hugging jeans, answered the door.
"Madame Audrina?" Veronica asked hesitantly.
"Yes, dear. Have you come for a reading?"
"If you're available. My friend Gabriel sent me," she added casually.
Madame Audrina's light brown eyes struck Autumn as inhuman. The shade was beautiful, but it was the way she cast her gaze over the two of them that made her shiver. Perhaps mistaking it as a chill, the psychic stood aside, ushering the two women into the office-slash-home.
"It's been a quiet night," she mused aloud, locking the door behind them. "Quiet nights herald deep exploration. I do my best readings on the quiet
"Evan's smart like that."
"And he also said it was fine to stand by that decision, but I should at least tell him my reasons," Autumn continued. "V, I'm not saying take him back or let him throw away an awesome opportunity. I'm saying that maybe you should tell him you love him so much, you won't be the reason he chucks his dreams in the garbage."
Veronica groaned, bowing her head in shame. "Maybe... I wish I knew for sure what would happen, you know?"
"Magic 8 ball?" Autumn suggested lightly.
"Ooh! No, but you've got the right idea. I need a psychic!"
Autumn made no secret of her disapproval. "No such thing. Sham artists, maybe."
"Says the woman who solved the case of a serial killer with help from his dead victims?" Veronica snorted in disbelief. "I admit that most of them are completely full of shit, but the real deal exists. Gabriel sees this one woman that he swears by."
Autumn rolled her eyes as Veronica began rummaging through her purse, yanking out assorted pieces of paper and business cards. This is all Andrew's fault. I'm no good at Girls' Night Out. I don't distract; I just amplify the irrationality. When her friend squealed at a small rectangle in her palm, Autumn knew there would be no easy night in at Veronica's place with a bottle of Grey Goose.
"Got it! She's only two blocks away. C'mon!"
"Veronica, seriously?"
Tossing the remnants of her sundae into a nearby trash can, Veronica stared her down. "I went into creepy, gross tunnels with you. I helped cover for your aborted attempt at virginity banishment prior to Osheaga. I even bought condoms for you when you were too shy!"
Autumn felt her skin flush. "Okay, okay! If you shut up right now about all of the dirt you have on me, you can drag me along as an observer to your psychic, alright?"
Looping an arm through Autumn's, Veronica grinned. "Alright babe, we're off to see the wizard!"
"Let's ease on down the damn road already. These shoes were not made for walking."
Gabriel's psychic was located just steps from the New York University campus—logical, given his attendance there. It was Veronica’s initial enrollment at NYU (now deferred due to the show) that had led to her moving in with Gabriel. A few years older, Gabriel Medina was gay and very much out, advocating for LGBTQ rights between auditions for television and film. His psychic—billed on the sign out front as Madame Audrina—kept shop in the lower half of a two-storey home near the south end of campus. The neon sign in the front window shimmered, insisting that yes, the psychic was in and available at nine on a Monday evening.
"I can't believe you're making me come along for this," Autumn grumbled. "You know I love you, right?"
"I know!" Veronica chirped happily. "C'mon: a storm's a-brewing in that sky and I refuse to let my legit Louboutins gets wrecked after only a week of joy."
With a renewed spring in her step—perhaps out of a desire to preserve her shoes—Veronica jammed the door buzzer with vigor. Reluctantly, Autumn joined her, huddling beneath the tiny overhang that longed to be part of a real porch. Several moments passed before a woman in her mid-forties, clad in black tank top and hip-hugging jeans, answered the door.
"Madame Audrina?" Veronica asked hesitantly.
"Yes, dear. Have you come for a reading?"
"If you're available. My friend Gabriel sent me," she added casually.
Madame Audrina's light brown eyes struck Autumn as inhuman. The shade was beautiful, but it was the way she cast her gaze over the two of them that made her shiver. Perhaps mistaking it as a chill, the psychic stood aside, ushering the two women into the office-slash-home.
"It's been a quiet night," she mused aloud, locking the door behind them. "Quiet nights herald deep exploration. I do my best readings on the quiet
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