Warring Logics (Book 1 of The Institute of Fantasiological Studies)
The one with a coffee (Chapter 3)

“You said what?”

“I asked him if there were any specific foods I should eat”

Tobias starts laughing- no laughing isn’t the right word for it- snorting to the point he can barely breathe. He is bent over, banging his fists on the table.

“It’s a legitimate question!” I hiss out in a sarcastic whine. It’s unprofessional, I know, but it’s not like Tobias is a pillar of professionalism right now.

Tobias snorts again, loudly, and other customers start to stare. I think we are going to have to start doing our socially-distanced weekly meetings at another Coffee Fellows… or maybe a Starbucks. We have been meeting here since June, sitting outside on the comfortable chairs, using the free wifi. It’s the solution we’ve come up with since the institute’s offices shut down earlier in the year and I couldn’t stomach one more zoom call.

The Coffee Fellows is unnecessarily dark. I’ve never understood the desire of coffee shops to look like the inside of a cave, sure its cozy in the winter, but it’s so out of place in the summer. Large dark green umbrellas hover over the outdoor tables making a warm August day look like a morning in February. At least the bright sun isn’t reflecting on our computer screens.

“You…asked…what…foods to eat?!” he forces out through laughter and then he starts cracking up all over again.

I like Tobias, I really do. He is a patient and understanding Post-Doc with mousy brown hair and eyes so pale blue they are hard to look at. But sometimes he can be a little well…

I sip my vanilla latte like it’s early fall and give Tobias what I call my death glare. It makes him laugh harder.

Eventually, he sighs, “ah, well, have you received feedback on your proposal?”

“No, nothing” I mope, leaning back in my chair. I sent it months ago to my supervisors, but I’ve heard nothing. I would have thought they caught covid if I didn’t receive their mass emails updating us on what work needs to be done.

“Send it again”

“I sent it last week.”

Tobias nods, “supervisors are like that. Send it to them again, and we’ll just continue our work without them.”

The annoying thing about postdocs is that because they somehow survived their Ph.D., they are unfazed by anything that comes up in the course of anyone else’s. What happens if I do all this work and then my supervisors’ don’t approve of my plan? Would I have to throw out months of work? I don’t voice my concerns to Tobias because, well, we discussed it two months ago. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal, of course, he wouldn’t be the one losing months of work.

“I’ll remind Helmut when I talk to him next week. He also has a paper of mine…” Tobias begins scratching his beard, or goatee really. He grew it out during the lockdown and he’s proud of it. I think he looked better before.

Tobias must notice my frown because he then says, “hey, you did good. I don’t know anyone who has managed to get so far with von Graf”

I grimace, “no one else would probably agree to become his dinner”

Tobias bats off my worries with a hand gesture almost hitting his laptop, “ack, it’s like a pinch, I’ve done it a few times, you have nothing to worry about.”

I frown, “have you… have you been to one of these types of events before?”

He strokes his beard like a villain in an old James Bond movie, I think he thinks it makes it look like he is a deep thinker, “when I was an undergrad I was invited to one… I got drunk shortly after arriving and woke up the next morning at a friend’s apartment with a fresh bite on my wrist.” He smiled wistfully and it’s not the first time I wonder if everyone at this institute is a few lines short of a full R script, if you know what I mean.

“And what about the other covens?”

And herein lies the problem of my entire Ph.D. project- vampire covens are notoriously secretive. There are few of them to begin with and they don’t like to talk. I guess a history of being hunted and then weirdly sexualized in teen movies would do that to anyone.

“I’ve only heard back from the Weiß coven. I meet him next week”

“Hm… well keep trying. Email the others again”

Emailing again is his solution to everything… I’ve been emailing them for weeks. It won’t change anything, but I don’t have the heart to argue with him again.

“Sure thing”