Page 63 of First Kiss with a Mothman

Nineteen

ARIE

In the two weeks since Halloween, life has never been sweeter. Mort escorts me to and from most classes, and I sleep over at his place several nights a week. We don’t necessarily have sex all the time, but regardless, it feels amazing to wrap myself around him. I fall asleep better with his warmth and scent. Reginald and I have become regulars at Alpha Claw Omega house, and the pledges don’t even pay us any mind.

I wake up every day beyond grateful that this handsome mothman flew into my life.

But my boyfriend said he’s busy this afternoon, so I made plans to meet up with Owen. Tanner’s busy, but I’m glad he introduced me to other queer dudes to be friends with. I used my walking stick and Reginald’s guidance to lead me to Mummy Mocha. Now, I’m seated with a hot coffee and a tray of sesame seeds for my bird.

After Owen sits down, I sense Reginald tense up.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” I pet my bird and he nearly growls. Meanwhile, something squeaks across the table.

“Be nice. And go back to sleep,” Owen says. I laugh, and he says, “Sorry. I should have left him back in the dorm.”

“It’s cool. Hi, Bat Nathanson.” Reginald shivers, and I hold him back. “Our familiars don’t like each other. Birds of a feather, they are not.”

“Certainly not. You’re a mammal, right, buddy?” Owen sounds like he’s peeking at his carrier, then covering it up. I believe he tucks his pet bat away, and I casually sip my coffee.

“So, how are classes?” Owen asks.

“Great.”

“You need any help taking out books? We could go upstairs, and I can ask that gorgon to help us find Braille books.” Owen’s words make me cringe internally. I know everyone means well, but I don’t like being offered help constantly.

“No need,” I reply with a smile.

“How has the transition into being a monster been?”

I shrug. “Fine, I guess.”

“Clay told me all of the classes from the OME were a godsend when he was turned into a vampire decades ago.”

“He was probably little.”

“He was actually an adult.” Owen snickers, and I sip my drink. How old is Owen’s boyfriend?

I shake my head and put my drink down. “I don’t care for those classes. They didn’t offer me any that weren’t tailored to small children.”

“Ooh, maybe I can find online videos about being an avian whisperer!” He sounds so eager, and I’m sure he’s hopping up and down in his seat. “Maybe I can find you an informational podcast?”

“Oh, that’s…that’s not necessary.” I shake my head.

“I’m sorry if I’m coming on so strong. It’s just…avian whisperer, wow!” He pauses and taps the table. “What a unique monster! Your anatomy must be…”

“My anatomy is currently taken,” I reply with a smirk, and we both laugh.

“I’m sorry. I just love monsters and research.”

“So I heard.”

“And becoming a monster can be difficult for anyone, even those without visual impairments. So, if you need any help at all, you let me or Clay know.”

I nod and mull over his words. I hate being seen as needy. My whole life has been defined by people catering to my very existence when I just want to live normally. Even my new college friends seem to always bring up my needs based on my disability.

Then I think about Mort and all the ways he’s been chivalrous and generous with his time. Living alone in college, getting a boyfriend, losing my virginity―all of these accomplishments, and people still just see me as the blind kid who needs help.

“Thanks,” I say as I rub Reginald. “So, um, you had an anatomy project recently, right?”