Me: A smaller city in Virginia.
SE: Hey, I moved to Cosmo, Virginia.
SE: You wouldn’t happen to live near there, would you?
My heart skips a beat. Speakeasy lives in my city? Cosmo is huge, but not so big that we couldn’t frequent the same parks and streets. Is he implying he wants to meet me? When I fantasized about him being my boyfriend, it was all theoretical. Sure, I let it slip that I’m gay too, but I don’t even know what he looks like?
In the dark screen of the PC, I gaze at my reflection. I’m naked by human standards, since my inner turtle loathes wearing garments, and I run my fingers over my scaly face and hard shell. Even if SE wanted to meet, hang out, or date, there’s no way I could hold my human form long enough.
I can’t meet him. So, I need to lie.
Me: I do.
Dropping the controller, I raise my hands up, like it burns.What was that?I swear, sometimes my libido and inner turtle take over.
SE:Really? Wow! Must be destiny to have all the cool people move here, LOL.
SE:You and me, that is.
Me:Yup!
SE:Did you wanna meet up one day and catch a movie or something?
SE:I’m not very good at making friends in real life, but it would be a nice change of pace.
And there goes my heart racing again. Speakeasy actually wants to meet up with me. But how am I supposed to show him my face? “By the way, dude, I’m a massive turtle man, want to touch my shell?” Yeah, that would go over well. I don’t even enjoy showing magical folks my true form; how much worse would itbe for a mortal dude? Then again, I don’t know how familiar he is with the magical community.
There’s no way he’s a witch, right? So many of us met last week at the Union of Mages, so witches and wizards could be anywhere. The odds of Speakeasy being a nearby mage would be astronomical.
Before I can reply, my phone buzzes. After picking up, I say, “Hello?”
“Gordy! Honey, how are you?”
“I’m alright. How are you and Papa?” I stand up and let Mama’s voice fill my ears. As I gaze out at the backyard, she regales me on the everyday lives of her coven of older witches. She and Papa are doing well and in good health, facts that I’m thankful for every day. And they seem to really get along with the witches their own age in North Carolina. But what about me? I’ve been presented with so many opportunities to make magical friends, and yet my anti-social tendencies keep reappearing.
“And have you been hanging out with young witches your age?” Mama asks.
I snicker as I idly gaze out the window. “Are you a mind-reader?”
“No. I’m simply a witch looking out for you. I divined that you would make close relationships over there in Cosmo.”
“Mama,” I whine. “I told you not to divine me.” She knows I hate it when she sees bits and pieces of my future. Total invasion of privacy.
“Boy, I raised you since you were a baby turtle. I’ll look out for you however I please. Besides, you know I don’t see specifics, not without your blood.”
“And yet you admit to divining me?”
“Whatever I see won’t come true unless you come out of your shell. Literally.”
“Ha-ha,” I deadpan. “Never heard that one before.”
“I’m serious, boy,” Mama says, and I can almost hear the serious look on her face. “You ought to be social.”
“It’s hard to be social when you have a massive tail like a freak.”
“Gordy Lee, you are not a freak. Never have been. You mean to tell me you’re not meeting any young witches or wizards?”
I bristle. “Not particularly.”
