Happy models peer up from the screen with their results photoshopped onto screens in front of them. It doesn't seem like an accurate representation of people who might be using a service like this, but what do I know? Maybe they're happy to get it over with.
"Where do we even start?" I ask.
"We'll make an account and order you a testing kit. Then you can take it and drop it off in a post box when you're in town."
I nod. "Okay. Let's do it. I need to find out where I came from."
"Do you think it will help you avoid the Shadow Association?"
I do a double-take.
"Please, as if we don't all know that's what you're worrying about all the time. We're not blind, Syxe."
A blush rises to my cheeks and I glance away, not wanting her to see how embarrassed it's making me.
"We don't mind," she says softly. "Well, that's not completely true. We do mind. But only because we don't want you to be uncomfortable, we don't judge you for being on edge. I'd be ten times worse in your position."
I snort. "I doubt it. You're always so calm and collected."
"Maybe on the outside, but I worry about things a lot inside."
"Hmm."
"You don't believe me."
"It's hard to when I've seen how easily you take charge of everything." But at the same time, why would she lie? Especially to me. I may have made a harsh judgement about her when we first met, but I was wrong. She's one of the kindest people I've ever met.
"Everyone has a front. But that's not the point. We're supposed to be focusing on you right now, not me. I've ordered the test, it says it should arrive in the next couple of days."
"Thanks, it's a good idea."
"Of course it is, it's one of mine," she quips, her normal confidence returning a little.
I don't comment on her change in demeanour. Like the Grove Captain meeting she's clearly annoyed about, she'll talk about it when she's ready.
"Can I ask you a question?" I'm only partly trying to change the topic of conversation.
&nb
sp; "Of course," she responds without a moment's hesitation.
"What's a Class C crime?"
"What?" Surprise and confusion cross her face.
"I was reading about them before you came in. It says we need to report them to the Supernatural Retrieval Agency, but I have no idea what Class C is. I feel like I'm missing something." I'm glad I can ask her while we're alone so I don't end up looking like an idiot in front of our other classmates. It's much easier to ask my friends than strangers.
"Oh, right. I'm sorry, we should have known you wouldn't know that. Class C is any kind of non-fatal violence. So if a ghost tells you about a crime like that, you have to fill in a form and submit it to the Agency. Have you not had that happen yet?"
"Mathias has been dealing with all the forms," I admit sheepishly. "I know I need to learn them, but I'm too nervous to ask him to show me."
"I can do it, if you want? We can get some ice cream and go through them all and what you need to do for what. If you fill out a form right, I'll even let you pick the sprinkles that go on top."
I snort. "There's no need for sprinkles, ice cream and bureaucracy sound like a fun combination without them," I quip.
Amusement dances over Juliet's face. "They're not that bad, I promise. But maybe make sure there's some chocolate fudge sauce too."
"If that's what you want..."