Page 32 of First Kiss with a Mothman

“Can I ask you something?”

I clear my throat. “Always.”

“You told me the other day that kisses should be consensual.”

“Yeah.”

He turns to me and shrugs. “How do you do that? It would be like, so lame to ask for a kiss.”

“Um…”

“Like how do you ask for kisses? And don’t tell me a fond look.” He snickers and continues, “Because that’s not an option for me.”

I purse my lips in concern. I keep forgetting that the rules to intimacy can be so different for a blind guy, especially a virgin. “It’s, uh…”

Spotting the exit, I slow down and merge into the right lane. “Looks like we’re here.”

“Oh, wow.”

“But to answer your question…” I manage to keep my voice calm despite my heart pounding. Clearing my throat, I continue, “It would be like…a gentle touch, I guess.”

“Ah.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with asking.”

“I think it’s cringe.”

We both chortle. “It’s not.” I turn down the road to get closer to the park. “It’s about establishing trust, and sometimes that takes words.”

“My cousin tells me not to trust new people so easily.” My heart falls, but Arie turns to me and quickly adds, “But I do. You’ve proven yourself a good friend.”

Good is not a word I’d use to describe myself. “Maybe I’m not trustworthy.”

“Well, my family, especially Selena and my uncle, aren’t trusting of monsters in general. Which is absurd.” He nods and pets Reginald. “We’re all different people, but character is built from within, regardless of your body parts.”

I hum in agreement as I pull into the park. Arie is vulnerable, yet has these moments of wisdom that remind me why I’m so drawn to him in the first place. He really is the flame to my moth.

When I come upon the lot, I slow down and announce, “We’re here.”

Several minutes later, Arie is holding my arm as we walk up the trail. His bird is who-knows-where, flying around, and he’s holding his violin. The sky is turning a lighter blue, so I ask him to get a move on. We’re the only ones here at the early hour, which is perfect. The fewer people I meet, the better my life is.

Except for the boy on my arm―he continues to be the exception.

When we finally come upon the gorge near a waterfall, I slow down. “The water,” Arie says with a smile.

“Yup. We’ve made it.”

“Wow. And the Sun?”

“Should be breaking sometime soon.” I move his shoulders so that he’s staring eastward. “Don’t like…walk forward.” A vision of him falling down a cliff fills my mind, and I shudder.

“Don’t worry. My guardian angel wouldn’t let that happen.” He puts down his violin and proceeds to take out his instrument.

“Where is Reginald, anyway?”

“Not Reginald. You.”

He titters, but my smile falls. If anyone else said such sweet things about me, I’d immediately shut it down. But I believe Arie: I would protect him from anything. I always thought I could live life keeping people at arm’s length, but here I am, holding Arie’s shoulder. What is this boy doing to me?