Jasper was done first and was waiting on me when I emerged from the stall. He was back to a hooded sweatshirt and faded jeans, average college-student wear, but I could still see traces of the Frog Wizard in him. The regal posture. The knowing smile. The light, confident movements as he headed to the cafeteria. He always had a bounce to his step, that extra bit of energy that others lacked.

The cafeteria had a number of food stations including a coffee bar. And damn, I was tired. And thirsty.

“Do you want a drink?” I asked as Jasper pulled a sleek laptop out of his backpack. “I can get us something while you get booted up.”

“Thanks. Yes, actually. Soda. M—”

“Mountain Dew. I remember.” He’d always had such a sweet tooth and a thing for the junk food his mom seldom stocked.

He met my gaze, and years of history passed between us. Sodas and sleepovers and secrets. “Appreciate it.”

I retrieved a bottle of soda for him because he always liked bottles more than fountain drinks and an espresso for myself. Taking the seat next to Jasper, I moved the chair so I could see the screen too. This put me close enough to smell him again, and our sleeves brushed. My body took way too much of an interest in his nearness, but I also couldn’t move away without looking like a dick.

“You drink coffee?” Jasper raised an eyebrow as I slid him his soda.

“I got into bullet-proof coffee at college because some of the guys I trained with swore by it. And I had an early-morning PT appointment on the other side of town. I need some caffeine, but unlike you, I can’t handle all that sugar anymore.”

“If I didn’t run on junk food, I’d starve.” Jasper was already clicking around his laptop, opening browser tabs with impressive speed.

“Like your mom would let that happen.” His mom wasn’t a health nut, but with five kids, she did a lot more home-cooked meals than mine, especially when they were all younger.

“Truth.” Laughing, Jasper took a swig of his soda, then gestured at his machine. “Okay. Let’s start our hunt. I’ve bookmarked some of the most likely places. A simple search engine isn’t going to turn up much.”

“I know. I tried,” I groaned. I had looked. Saturday night after the whole mess with George, I’d tried to see what I could find before I’d had the courage to ask Jasper for help. “And I suck at searching. Like, there’s 2,000 results, and after five or so, they all start bleeding together in my brain.”

Jasper nodded because this was hardly news to him. I’d talked him into doing most of the heavy lifting with group projects in middle school. His mouth pursed as his expression turned more thoughtful.