When I reached the coffee shop, I found Trey was just starting his shift, which was great—not just because he was a friendly face, but because it meant discounts. He began making my order before I even placed it since he knew the drill by now. Another barista offered to help, and Trey gave him meticulous instructions on what to do.

“Skinny vanilla latte,” said Trey, grabbing the caramel for Ms. Terwilliger’s cappuccino. “That’s sugar-free syrup and skim. Don’t mess it up. She can sniff out sugar and 2% milk a mile away.” I suppressed a smile. Maybe I couldn’t reveal Alchemist secrets to my friends, but it was nice to know they at least knew my coffee preferences backwards and forwards.

The other barista, who looked to be our age, gave Trey a droll look. “I’m well aware of what skinny means.”

“Nice attention to detail,” I teased Trey. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“Hey, I live to serve,” he said. “Besides, I need your help tonight with that lab write-up from chem. You always find things I miss.”

“It’s due tomorrow,” I chastised. “You had two weeks. I’m guessing you didn’t get much done in your cheerleader study session.”

“Yeah, yeah. Will you help me out? I’ll even go to your campus.”

“I’ll be up late with a study group—a real one.” The opposite sex was banned from our dorms after a certain hour. “I could meet you on Central Campus afterward if you want.”

“How many campuses does your school have?” asked the other barista, setting down my latte.

“Three.” I reached eagerly for the coffee. “Like Gaul.”

“Like what?” asked Trey.

“Sorry,” I said. “Latin joke.”

“Omnia Gallia in tres partes divisa est,” said the barista.

I jerked my head up. Not much could have distracted me from coffee, but hearing Julius Caesar quoted at Spencer’s certainly did.

“You know Latin?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said. “Who doesn’t?”

Trey rolled his eyes. “Only the rest of the world,” he muttered.

“Especially classical Latin,” continued the barista. “I mean, it’s pretty remedial compared to Medieval Latin.”

“Obviously,” I said. “Everyone knows that. All the rules became chaotic in the post-Empire decentralization.”

He nodded agreement. “Although, if you compare it to the Romance languages, the rules start to make sense when you read them as part of the larger picture of the language’s evolution.”

“This,” interrupted Trey, “is the most messed-up thing I’ve ever seen. And the most beautiful. Sydney, this is Brayden. Brayden, Sydney.” Trey rarely used my first name, so that was weird, but not nearly as weird as the exaggerated wink he gave me.

I shook Brayden’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he said. “You’re a Classics fan, huh?” He paused, giving me a long, considering look. “Did you see the Park Theatre Group’s production of Antony and Cleopatra this summer?”

“No. Didn’t even know they performed it.” I suddenly felt kind of lame for not having known that, as though I should be up on all arts and culture events in the greater Palm Springs area. I added by way of explanation, “I only moved here a month ago.”