Page 44 of First Kiss with a Mothman

“I’ve come bearing your savior.” Tanner’s dramatic tone pulls me out of my daydreams. I chuckle and turn to him, then hear the sound of a chair being pulled next to my table. Reginald tenses up, so I hold him close.

“What’s up?” I ask. We established earlier that I needed help with seeing-eye bird forms. The administration has been gracious enough to give me two months of leeway in not filling out the paperwork, but I’m still confused by all the red tape. Tanner, good guy that he is, formed a solution. His plan apparently involves another person.

I hear something get placed on the table, and the scent of…woodchips?

“Pleased to meet you,” a new voice says.

“Hi. I’m, uh Arie.” I refrain from using Reginald to gaze at this new person. But whatever’s in the box on the table has my bird uneasy.

“I told you I’d get you your solution. This is my dude, Owen. He’s been where you’ve been.”

“And I have the official documentation on familiars for you to submit. We had to do it last year. By ‘we’ I mean my boyfriend and me.” This guy is gay, too? “Pleased to meet you, Arie.”

“Do you want to feel his face to say hello?” Tanner asks, and I can hear his grin.

“Not cool,” Owen says in an irritated tone. “Not every blind person needs that―according to my research, anyway.” Owen pauses, then says, “Wait, do you want to, Arie?”

“It’s alright. Tanner’s just messing with you,” I say, and we all laugh.

“You’re too easy, Owen. I’ll trust you to help him out. I gotta get on register.” With that, Tanner leaves us alone. I’m simply thrilled to have friends who don’t mind joking about my disability.

“You said something about a familiar?” I ask.

“Yes, sir. I have my baby in the carrier right here.” I hear him shift what I assume is a basket of sorts. “Bat Nathanson, why are you awake? It’s daytime.”

Bat what? Reginald squawks, and I hold him back. I hear an unfamiliar hiss. My guess is Owen’s familiar is a bat, and he’s not happy to meet my raven.

Wait a second. “I don’t have a familiar.”

“Um, do you have an emotional connection to a pet that goes beyond the scope of ordinary domesticated animals?” Owen moves closer and whispers, “Behave, Bat Nathanson.”

I snicker. “Okay, you got me there.”

“Then I can help you with the forms.” We spend the next ten minutes filling out my paperwork. I use my laptop to transcribe it onto the school website interface; I can’t expect Owen to do all my work, even though he’s very knowledgeable. And I enjoy chatting with a fellow human―that is, until our familiars start fighting again.

“Squawk!”

“Reginald, be nice. We’re doing this for you.”

I pet him while the bat on the table says, “Squeak!”

“Don’t use that tone, little bat,” Owen says in a parental voice.

“Squawk!”

“Squeak!”

I save the form and close my PC. “I guess bats and birds aren’t friends.”

“I suppose not,” Owen replies, and we share a laugh.

“I get why I have a seeing-eye bird, but why do you need a bat?”

“He found us. My boyfriend is a vampire, and this little guy wants to be with us both.”

“Ah. Kindred vampire bat spirits then?”

Owen snickers. “Not quite. He listens to us, and he’s bonded to us. So, campus allowed us to have him around, upon registration, of course.”