Page 37 of First Kiss with a Mothman

“You okay, Arie?”

A voice I vaguely recognize approaches me. “What? Oh, uh, yeah.” I rub my forehead and try to regain my composure.

“It’s me, Seth.”

“The mummy.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, and it sounds like he’s carrying something.

“What’s up?” I ask with a smile.

“I gotta bring this box of filters back to Mummy Mocha.”

“Cool.”

“You seemed super pissed off just now. Good at the music, but angry.”

“That’s minor key for ya.” We share a laugh, and I quickly pack up my violin.

“Do you wanna come with me for some coffee?”

I’m not busy right now. Practicing can wait, and I do enjoy company. “Sure. If you don’t mind.”

“My treat.”

“I already said yes.” We both titter, and I reach out for him. I put my hand on his shoulder, and soon enough, we’re walking together to the library area.

“You could use a free drink. I can tell.”

“What gave it away?”

“The very unsettling one-man show I just witnessed.”

I guffaw at his words, and I already feel better.

Five minutes later, I’m seated at Mummy Mocha, listening to the fellow patrons drink coffee. It’s fairly quiet at this hour, but students are always in and out trying to get their caffeine fix. I don’t have to wait too long before Seth returns to sit in front of me.

“Where’s your bird buddy?”

“I gave him time to fly about.” I shrug, and he hands me a hot drink in a paper cup. “He’ll come back when I call him.”

“That is fascinating,” he murmurs. I refuse to read into his curious tone. He has no idea I have a psychic connection to some birds. Instead of trying to change the subject, I carefully open my cup and blow on the steaming brew.

“So, how’s the semester been treating you?” he asks.

“Great.”

“Do you often play music outside on a weekend night?”

“When there are no parties.”

We share another laugh. Talking to Seth is easy. I get why he’s friends with everyone. “I’d think you’d get enough practice on the weekdays.”

“Well, I used practice as an excuse to get my mom to go home sooner.”

“Oh? Don’t like her being on campus?”

I sip and smack my lips. “I love her, but I came to Creelin to spread my metaphorical wings.”