Page 10 of First Kiss with a Mothman

It couldn’t be me; I could never help him. Because I don’t intend to see him again, it’s too shameful. My one time trying to go to a bonfire, and I ruined it with the worst thing I’ve done in a long time.

I nearly picked a fight with a blind guy and his seeing-eye bird. Once again, I’ve proven that I don’t deserve peace and happiness.

I never thought I’d think this, but class is a gift. Typically, I only tolerate orchestra class as it fulfils my requirements for my film production major. Plus, I do enjoy playing the strings. Sure, it’s second cello all the way in the back, but I don’t want to be challenged with sheet music. And I certainly don’t want to be one of the star violinists at the front row. Being background noise is exactly what I want to be.

If I’m in a bad mood, I usually skip this class. But I need something to distract me after the way I royally screwed up two days ago.

How could I mock a blind guy for his disability? Not on purpose, but still.

I’m sitting in the back, holding onto my cello, trying to ignore all the bustle around me. My peers are all chatting, tuning their instruments, catching up since this is the first class of the semester. As the monsters and humans fiddle with their instruments, I zone out, practicing hand formations on my school-rented cello. Hopefully the songs this semester aren’t too boring.

“Attention, class.” A hush descends on the room as people sit down. At the front, Professor Fan claps his hands and then waves at all of us. I’ve had a few classes with the faculty phantom of the school, and the guy knows his stuff. Underneath his white half-face mask, he’s pretty good-looking. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were hooking up with other monster professors in the school clock tower.

“While most of you are returning students, I’d still like to discuss expectations about the semester. We do have some new folks, transfers to the U, which is perfect since so many graduated last year.” Professor Fan smiles and turns to his left.

Situated at the very front are the first-and-second-chair violinists, the cream of the musical crop. I have to poke my head up to see the front row, curious as to who will be our star soloists with the last girl no longer being here. There’s something familiar about the back of the head of the dude sitting closest to the professor.

“Practice rooms will be available after classes but before the building closes. Please refrain from leaving scales, fur, or feathers around those rooms. Cleaning them up is a monster-sized pain,” Professor Fan remarks. There’s a smattering of laughter around the room. “If you need to shift, please do it before class. Now I’ll be handing out the sheet music for the semester. Of course, our first chair gets this Braille copy.”

I nod along, but that last sentence gives me pause. Did I hear that right?

Professor Fan walks to the side and nods at the first-chair violinist. The other students begin to talk again, but I can clearly hear the professor when he says, “Glad to have you here as our first chair. We’ll do what we can to accommodate you.”

The dude murmurs his thanks, and I nearly fall over as I crane to the side to spy on him. My pulse picks up as the realization dawns on me, but I need to confirm it. When the boy at the front touches his little table―a stark contrast to our upright music stands―my mouth goes dry. My eyebrows rise when he runs his hands along the Braille on his sheet music on the table.

When one sheet falls over, he reaches to his right, but misses. Professor Fan is walking toward another row, and I dash to the front to pick up the paper. With a trembling hand, I hand it over to our new first-chair violinist to confirm my worst fear.

“Thank you.” Yup, it’s the blind dude from the bonfire. His adorable smile is dazzling as he takes the paper, and my throat goes dry. “Everyone here is so friendly,” he says with an earnestness that I don’t deserve.

Flustered, I shake my head and swiftly return to my seat two rows back. The guy I insulted…the victim of my most recent shame…is here in my orchestra class?

Chapter

Four

ARIE

There’s no one else here in the music room on a Thursday afternoon; at least, I haven’t heard anyone else practicing. Each of these small booths is pretty soundproof, but it was silent when I walked in here forty minutes ago. With all my classes done for the week, this felt like the perfect time to catch up on all my pieces for orchestra. Professor Fan chose some fun but complicated melodies, but I didn’t ace the tryout for violin first chair out of laziness. Call me a music nerd, but I love orchestra class and playing my instrument.

Other classes have been chill, but they haven’t allowed me to make friends organically. I can’t keep going to Mummy Mocha and spending all my meal-plan money just to chat with Tanner. Meeting him and his boyfriend on Saturday was fun, but I was sort of hoping I’d make more friends by now. My fantasies of meeting cool people who want to take me hiking or go to frat parties are absurd, and probably a little immature, but dammit, they’re mine.

Maybe I’ll meet cool gay dudes later this semester.

With a sigh, I shove my papers into my backpack and lock up my violin. I ought to find Reginald and explore more of campus. It’s been about a week, and I’ve only memorized routes to a handful of buildings. Selena and Mom would lose their cool if they found out I still needed assistance getting to places and I wasn’t asking them for help.

But I could use the help now. The room is still silent, with no faculty manning this area at this hour. All that practicing made me forget my route to this part of the massive music room. I’m not one-hundred-percent sure where to go next to get to my dorm. Reginald is floating about outside, but I have to make it to an exit to find him. With my walking stick, I tap a wall and follow it. I really hope I don’t hit a fire alarm with my hand if I touch a wall.

After another minute of aimlessly dragging my hand around, I notice a shift in the room. There’s that buzzing noise from the bonfire again! I pause and hear the soft closing of the door.

“Uh, hello?”

The buzzing noise stops, and I suspect it’s some monster. Maybe like a bumblebee man? Is that a thing? I learned all about shifters, but there are so many, I can’t keep track. Selena also told me most folks are in human guise on the day-to-day.

But that buzzing sound…I heard it at the bonfire. After holding my breath, it resumes again. It’s soft, delicate, and almost melodic. “Is someone there?”

With an audible gulp several yards away, the voice says, “Yeah.”

I let out a soft laugh of relief. “Oh good, I didn’t really wanna be stuck in here.”