Dahlia smiled gently. “[color=skyblue]Yeah, you know what? Me too. How about we hit up Danes? I’ve been dying for a milkshake.[/color]”

She helped Quinn down, throwing an arm around her shoulder and staying close. The past few days Quinn had been…more dependent than usual. Not that Dahlia particularly minded—she didn’t need any excuse to spend more time with her—but ever since she’d started going to see Roaki, she’d been decidedly [i]off[/i]. It was tempting to ask, and even more tempting to just assume the Helburkan girl had done something to upset her, but whenever she thought that way, she remembered her promise. She wanted to be better. She wanted to be more like Quinn. 

Besides, she’d kept visiting, and would have told them if anything truly bad had happened. Maybe it was just the state Roaki was in that was bringing her mood down. Quinn had asked her and Besca for help coming up with some way to convince the girl to stay. Dahlia would have been lying if she said she’d given it a tremendous amount of thought, and that [i]did[/i] make her feel guilty. Besca was up to her neck with work and worry, and all Dahlia did all day was the same thing she did every day. 

This was important to Quinn. She resolved to put more effort into it, starting right now. 

Danes was comfortably busy when they arrived. Where Tohoki Grill was dim and gentle and had the feeling of an old tavern, Danes was bright, excited and warm. Its faux windows were opened and their screens rolled footage of a sunny beachside afternoon. Long, sandy shores stretched endlessly either way, scattered with people laying on towels or under great big umbrellas. More played out in the sapphire blue water, splashing and laughing, or waving out to sailboats rocking gently in the distance. Upbeat, tropical music played over the speakers, as though from a band not too far outside. A series of screens on the walls were tuned in not to the news or the Savior-obsessed talk shows, but to sports and campy daytime shows.

Normally she’d have gotten them a seat at the counter, but today Dahlia brought them to a booth along the wall, where the AC blew fresh air only just tinged with the hint of a salty breeze. The tables were wooden, and weathered in the same way designer jeans were weathered—artificial, but convincing. 

Taking one of the menus from the tabletop stand, Dahlia thumbed to a selection of burgers.

“[color=skyblue]Oh boy,[/color]” she said, cheery. “[color=skyblue]I am about to [i]destroy[/i] a pineapple burger.[/color]”

She held off asking Quinn what she wanted, let her have a little more time to think today. Instead, she turned her attention to the faux window, smiling out at the ocean. The water was too dark to be a Runan sea, so she guessed it was somewhere in Eusero. 

[i]That’d be a nice trip,[/i] she thought. [i]Me, Quinn, Besca. Just a day laying out on the sand.[/i]

“[color=skyblue]So how’re you feelin’ about the interview?[/color] she asked lightly. “[color=skyblue]For what it’s worth, Mona’s always been super nice to me. You talk at a table over some food, and it’s really casual. Kinda feels like eating in the dorms. She [i]loves[/i] pilots, so I bet all she really wants to do is get to know you a bit![/color]”