Like the universe was trying to punish them, the seat beside them—which had remained empty this entire semester—was suddenly filled with a large, furry body. Dex collapsed into the chair with such gracelessness he nearly jostled Cya right out of their own when his bulky shoulder smashed into them.
With a rather undignified noise, they clasped the edges of their desk to keep themself seated as they slowly turned to pin the boy with a withering stare. Instead of cowering away, he grinned toothily at them, tongue lollingout the side of his mouth as his tailthump, thump, thumpedagainst the seat of his chair.
His mis-matched eyes stared right back at them, one a bright blue, the other a dark amber. Unbidden, they went through the catalogue of stones they had at home to match the colors. Sapphire was too generic, and turquoise wasn’t the right shade. Aquamarine—no, too light. Perhaps a blue topaz or larimar. Yes, that was better. The brown one was easier to categorize. Easily tourmaline or jasper. Or even tiger’s eye, given the swirls of darker brown around his pupil.
The heterochromia was, objectively speaking, quite beautiful, and for a moment, Cya forgot to be annoyed at his unwanted presence. That quickly changed the moment he opened his mouth.
“I know I know you. I’m pretty good with faces, especially ones like yours.” He raised both hands, palms out. “Not that I’m objectifying you. I’m a feminist and stuff. I just mean that your face is interesting.”
Cya blinked.
“Don’t worry. I mean, interesting in a good way,” he added. “Like, you’re totally hot, but again, not objectifying you. Just spitting facts.”
Cya blinked again. Slower. Longer.
Dex’s grin wavered before he pointed at his chest. “I’m Dex.”
“Okay,” Cya said.
“We met on Tuesday at the cafe,” he explained unnecessarily. When they continued to say nothing, he explained more. “Because Glyma was interviewing me, then she gave me a tour. And we totally met each other.”
“Okay,” Cya repeated.
“Yeah, and I saw you, and I thought, ‘Hey, she’s in my Thursday class!’ And I was totally right because here you are,” he said triumphantly as he recentered his red ballcap backward on his head between his tall, fuzzy ears.
“They,” Cya corrected, and Dex quirked his head, one ear folding down.
“Huh?”
“They, not she. I’m not a girl,” they said.
The Lupyn’s mouth formed a bigOshape. “Oh, my bad! I know better than to make assumptions. Sorry, my man.”
Cya rubbed the skin between their eyes. “No, not a man either.”
Snapping two fingers, Dex pointed finger-guns at them. “Right. They. Enby represent!” He winked and clicked his tongue obnoxiously at them. “I’m tracking with you now. Misgendering is so uncool, and it won’t happen again. Allyship high-five!”
They did their best not to sneer at the offered palm. “Mmm, no.”
Both ears flopped down this time, his tail curling around his calf, making him look so sad and pathetic. “What? You’re gonna leave me hanging?”
Yes, they most certainly wanted to. High-fives were childish and silly, but there was something about his big, sad eyes that made their hand rise of its own accord. His expression immediately brightened, and he high-fived them exuberantly, tail wagging in excitement.
“Boom!” he said, making them jump at the outburst. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Since they were definitely garnering attention now, Cya faced forward again and tapped their thumb against the mousepad of their computer, begging the clock to move faster. The faster time moved, the sooner the professor would arrive to start the class, and Dex would be forced to stop talking to them. Like the clock was mocking them, it appeared to tick even slower.
“Anyway,” Dex drawled, sprawling in his chair until his pawed foot nudged their tail coil, “I saw you at the cafe and thought how crazy it wasthat we’re gonna be co-workers. Because we’re already co-students in the same class. Like, so wild!”
“Thrilling,” they deadpanned.
“I know, right?” Drumming a nonsensical beat on his desk, he nudged their tail again, and they barely held back a warning rattle. “But that’s destiny, you know?”
They should have ignored him, but they found themself asking, “What’s destiny?”
“Us,” he said, so seriously.
Cya arched a brow. “I don’t think I follow.”
