Chapter 6- Gordy #2
“Mom,” he whines again. The table returns to a calm discussion while dining.
I quietly take in the scene: Declan is arrogant and all but berates his mom, not realizing how lucky he is to have a living parent.
Lisbeth is engrossed in conversation with Kai and Seb to my right.
Kenta unashamedly flirts with Sally, who seems to love it.
And Loxley looks like he hates it here. I understand why I avoid social situations―my giant shell and tail could land me kidnapped as a science experiment―but why does Loxley? He’s about my age, and he’s an able-bodied, good-looking White man; the world is his oyster.
But he seems not to want to make friends either. He wasn’t the best at talking during the ill-fated coven barbecue. Maybe he has social anxiety. That must suck. If someone as traditionally handsome as him can’t make friends, there’s really no hope for a literal shifter like me.
Wait, why are my thoughts consumed with empathy for him? The guy believes I’m his pet. Shaking my head, I return my attention to my food.
Five minutes later, I’m washing my hands in the cafeteria’s public restroom.
I take in my facial features in the mirror.
As I gaze at the stubble on my chin, I recall wanting so badly to be human all the time as a youth.
Kai’s glamour is working flawlessly, but I learned a long time ago to accept that I’m a turtle beast man, through and through.
The Gordy Lee with goldenrod skin and human appendages is only me a fraction of the time.
I’m the mystical Ruby Turtle, but I can’t channel enough magic to blend in with society; spellcasting so far has been nothing but trouble.
The slam of the restroom door opening breaks me out of my thoughts.
Like a hurricane, Loxley barges in and strides straight for the far window.
He doesn’t go into a stall or to the sink, but instead, leans his head on the tiled wall.
In an already overwhelming day, this is the most bizarre turn of events.
Try as I might, I can’t stop staring at him. He’s taking deep breaths, each slower than the last. Okay, maybe he has severe anxiety? I should walk away, give him space. We’re the only ones in this massive men’s room, and he probably wants his solitude.
Instead, I’m pulled to him, the guy I certifiably don’t like. I’m a moth to his flame, or I guess, a turtle to his flame, or something.
“Loxley?”
He startles and spins around, his face an expression of pure shock. “Hey, whoa, I didn’t mean to…” I lift up my hands, unsure of how to end that sentence. “You okay?”
He nods quickly, and I remember that he’s not much of a talker.
When I turn back to the mirror, I take in his reflection.
I don’t miss the way he wipes his forehead and smooths out his sweater.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was self-conscious about his looks.
But he’s trim and has a pretty face, and the only other person in here is me.
He definitely isn’t trying to impress the grumpy turtle who yelled at him in front of everyone.
“Right. Well, I’m gonna…” I point behind me, and he catches my gaze. Logically, I know I should leave. He’s not my friend, I don’t want him to be. Still, every cell in my body is begging me to stay, to hear him out.
What is wrong with me? My inner turtle has never betrayed me like this, forcing me in place when I want to leave.
After a long five seconds of him staring at me in silence, I nod. “See you, I guess,” I mutter.
I finally muster the ability to turn around when his voice fills the bathroom. “Dysarthria!” he yelps.
Turning back around, I shoot him my most perplexed expression. “Pardon?”
“Dys…dysarthria,” he says.
“Dysarthria,” I echo. “Is that a condition you have?”
He nods, and a small flicker of understanding blooms in my chest. “Is that like a speech impediment?”
He nods again. “It makes it hard for you to find words?” He smiles, the relief of being understood clear on his face. For some reason, his content expression makes my inner turtle happy. “Ah. And I guess that little conversation station back there wasn’t easy for you.”
Loxley dolefully shakes his head, and I immediately miss his smile.
Pointing at him, I continue, “Look, you don’t gotta be friends with anyone.
I learned a long time ago to trust very few people.
But then again, that’s coming from a reptile freak of nature like me, so socializing was never easy.
” I chuckle and turn around, saying, “I’ll see you around. ”
“Not a freak.”
Loxley’s voice is so soft I can almost pretend I didn’t hear it. But I did, and for the second time in two minutes, I’m freezing and turning to him.
“What?”
“You…you said you were a freak.” He shakes his head, like this is the most serious conversation he’s ever had. “You…are not.”
His precious eyes and flattering words make my soul feel light, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because with his speech impediment, I can assume that every word takes a gargantuan amount of effort. And he spent it to make me feel better.
“Oh, uh, thanks, I guess,” I murmur. With that, I finally manage to leave the restroom. So, Loxley doesn’t think I’m a freak, so what? It’s probably just part of him claiming me as a familiar. And this strange tingling sensation in my soul is purely a coincidence.
I need to find Seb and Kai so we can get back to Cosmo. I probably need to let my inner turtle out to swim. I also need to brush up on my spellcasting so I can pass this examination next week. And I need to hit up my online buddy, Speakeasy, so we can tackle another dungeon together.
There are plenty of things I need right now. And number one is to forget about doe-eyed boys with brown wavy hair who make my heart beat faster.