A half hour remained before the end of dinner service at Thielman Residence Hall (TRH) cafeteria. TRH was the oldest dormitory on campus with the smallest dining hall. The walls were stone brick and painted with the school’s colors; purple and white. Sunlight and age faded the paint and pockmarked bare stone spaced randomly throughout. The floor, black and white tile of various shades from being unevenly replaced whenever enough of them broke to require repairs. The old-style line consisted of metal rails to set one’s tray on in front of glass partitions separating students from steam trays of food and cafeteria workers who dispensed it. The salad and desert bars were on separate islands which would have looked at home in a buffet-style restaurant from the 1970s. They had sneeze guards, but one had to lean under them to get a look at anything. Purple tinted plastic lining faded so much over time that it was opaque. The tables were circular to save space and the chairs mismatched. The last renovation occurred in the 1990s with only maintenance since them. It was on the edge of campus and out of the way for most students.

Even at peak hours, the cafeteria was rarely more than three quarters full. Only a scattering of students remained during the last hour of serving time. Ancient age (to teenage college students) and the remote location combined to make it an unpopular gathering place. If given the choice, they ate with their friends at the more centralized, updated residence halls.

This suited Dion just fine. A skunk who wished to avoid attention, being able to eat in peace was a blessing. He chose TRH because of its relative seclusion, the age of the building (making it less likely to be full of excess electrical wiring), and the presence of single dorm rooms. The unpopularity of the dining hall was a happy accident. His room may have only been half as big as his old room at his parents’ house, but he would have been unable to handle a roommate. Cramped living conditions were a small price for secrecy. Still a tight fit, having barely enough room for a bed, desk, and sink.

Seclusion was important for a skunk coming from a town with just over 400 people. His first reaction to seeing everyone was culture shock personified. There were over 1,800 people in Monroe’s freshman class. Jarring seeing more people than the population of his hometown on his first walk from dorm to class. He quickly learned which routes avoided crowds, how to dodge around groups of people to keep from bothering them, and the best ways to avoid eye contact.

Compared to that, meal times were easy. Get in near the end of service and eat before the dining hall closed. Lunch was even easier, as he could grab a sandwich and an ice cream bar or three from the to-go line, then eat in his room.

Dion set his tray down at his usual table in the corner farthest from both sets of doors leading to the residence hall proper. He sat with his usual company; nobody. Three months after enrollment and no new friends. He did not feel bad about this, as he made no effort to make new friends. He was in school to learn. Besides, making friends did not come naturally to him. Even in St. Ambrose, where everyone knew everyone, he had no friends outside of his family. Lots of acquaintances, no friends. Simply a consequence of being different and more than a little nervous around strangers. They might see him for what he is. Unlikely? Yes, but not impossible. Not worth letting it bother him.

Why talk while eating, anyway? Chewing with one’s mouth open was disgusting. The food at TRH was amazing. Well, not the food so much as the desserts! His selections reflected this. On his tray was a plate containing tonight’s entrée, a brown/gray meat block and mashed potatoes, both smothered in gravy. A small dish of undersized green beans because his mother always told him to eat his vegetables complimented it. Edible enough.

The rest of the space was devoted to sweets. A dish of chocolate pudding, a couple of chocolate chip cookies and one cookie full of chocolate candies, a fudge brownie, and a Fairy Ice Cream bar. He had no idea the standard Fairy bar (chocolate covering rich peanut butter and strawberry jam) came in an ice cream variety (chocolate covering a layer of peanut butter ice cream and a layer of strawberry ice cream), but the second he tried one, he was hooked! This was rounded out by a tall glass of Stan’s cola from the soda fountain. No cake tonight, as he had some for lunch.

So many sweets in such varieties. Dion grew up without them. His mother never kept them in the house because his dad either could not or would not eat them. He could get away at sneaking a doughnut or cookie during church events or a candy bar here and there, but that was it. Discovering all of them was such a magical experience it rivaled the magic running through his veins. And his meal plan charged per meal, not item, so he could take as many as he liked!

Dion started with the chocolate pudding. He found pistachio was his favorite, but they rarely served the green ambrosia. How it could be unpopular he would never know. Chocolate was fine. While eating, he cracked open his ‘Principles of Chemistry’ textbook to read up on stoichiometry. He liked math and loved chemistry, so combining both to calculate the yield of reactions was even better. Useful information, considering what he wanted to do with his life.

Eyes tracing back and forth over the lines of text, he brought his spoon from dish to mouth in automated motions. He was aware of the creamy texture, chocolatey goodness, and wonderful sweetness, but it was a background for thoughts of a different type of chemistry. Sugar seemed to help him think. Brains used glucose as their primary food source. So, sweets were literally brain food.

His spoon hit the bottom of the dish with a click. The empty vessel returned to his mouth. Only then did he take his eyes off a particularly interesting section on sulfites. Empty already? He could have sworn it was a good-sized dish. Wait….something else was off. Something was in his light. He looked up.

One of the cafeteria workers stood slightly to his right. She was a rabbit, one standing just under five and a half feet tall. Her fur was light brown with white patches. The most prominent ones he could see were on her paws and the one covering her right cheek to the underside of her muzzle. She had dark brown headfur kept long and pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were the same color as milk chocolate. She was slim, especially for a bunny, but not that unhealthy slim one saw among inactive college students that ate little. She was active; Dion saw her running along the riverside path between classes time to time.

He often saw her in the cafeteria. He tended to notice everybody, but remembered her in particular. Like many students who worked for the various dining halls, she was part of a work study program to ease the burden of tuition and give her a little pocket money. She wore a pair of blue slacks and a white, button up shirt; the standard uniform for cafeteria workers. The look was made complete by a white apron festooned with unidentifiable stains. No hairnet today. Must not have been working in the kitchen.

“Better slow down.” She said with a smile. “You’ll get a stomach ache if you inhale it.” Her tone was calm and even, no hint of malice to it, not that Dion would have noticed. All the attention he could muster was put into compensating for a surprise conversation. A little overwhelming.

“Um, well…..” Even at his best, interpersonal relations were hard. His brain was in ‘eat and study’ mode. It took time to switch gears and he was not practiced. “….I wasn’t…..paying attention. Studying chemistry.”

Dion held up his book to emphasize chemistry. He looked at her face for a moment, smiled, then looked back at his book. Then at his tray. Then at a wall. Then at her again. Nervous? Yes, but he only looked all over the place because he never knew where to look when talking to someone for the first time.

The rabbit glanced at one of the walls Dion passed over with his wandering eye. “What’re you looking at?”

“Hm?” Dion looked back at her, and she at him in return. Her head tilted to the side in a posture of curiosity. “Nothing.” Was his answer.

“Then why’d you look over there?”

“Oh, that?” Dion’s ears lowered. An awkward skunk, but not so awkward he was not self-aware. He knew his behavior was odd and got embarrassed when called on it. “I, um…it’s rude to stare…”

“That?” She smiled. “You’re allowed to look at someone when you talk to them.” She put her paw on the chair nearest him. “Can I sit down?”

Resist the urge to say ‘I don’t know, can you?’ like your mother used to, Dion. Not the time for that. Dion simply nodded.

She pulled out a chair and settled in comfortably. Well, as comfortably as one could be in a thirty-year-old seat made out of metal and plastic. She propped her right arm on the table in a relaxed posture. She held her left paw out to the skunk.

“I’m Elizabeth.” She offered.

“Oh, yeah….Hi Elizabeth. I saw your nametag.” Dion pointed to the nametag hanging from her left chest. ‘Thielman Dining Hall’ etched into the top in purple, cursive script, ‘Elizabeth Wagner’ written underneath on a stick-on label in block letters.

Elizabeth looked at her tag, then at Dion. She chuckled and shook her head. “Yeah….you’re supposed to shake my paw and tell me your name now.”

Dion’s ears grew warm with blush. He knew he was forgetting something. The consequences of not having met someone, really met someone, new in months. “I’m……..Dion Thade.” He almost introduced himself as Diomedes. Stopped himself just in time; Diomedes was a name unusual enough to set him apart and he did not want that. Might as well used the shortened version his brothers did.

Elizabeth sat there with her hand out. She did not move, despite Dion shifting uncomfortably in his seat and staring. He looked at her paw. A rather nice paw. Nails neatly trimmed and the fur soft. He liked the little white spots on brown fur. Failed to remember he was supposed to shake it until she wiggled her fingers. Oh, right.

Dion, cringing internally for missing two cues to shake hands, took her hand. As their paws met, he did what he always did when meeting a new person; he turned on his magical sight. It was as natural for an Izorian as breathing, able to turn off and on like flipping a light switch. His parents did it, as did his brothers, as did every Izorian. Aura reading had a long history among his people. Some might see reading an aura without asking as invasive, but Dion did not see it that way. The process caused no pain. Someone who was not magically sensitive would not even know it happened. He had done it for so long he was only dimly cognizant of doing it. It was the easiest way to tell if someone was a magical being. The fastest way to assess for a threat. When you were a people as reviled as the Izorians, you had to know what you were dealing with.

Elizabeth’s aura appeared as a uniform blue glow around her body. Soft and faint and pleasant to look at. The only thing remarkable about it was the color. Most had green auras. Rarely, they were other colors, but the majority of mundane anthros read green. Not at all noteworthy from a magic user standpoint, but pretty nonetheless. It put Dion at ease and not just because it meant she was not some mage killer come to end him.

“Nice to meet you, Dion. You can call me Liz, if you want. Saves time.” She giggled at her own joke.

“Oh, um, yes. Liz is fine.” Dion looked at her paw. It was still wrapped around his. The handshake was over several seconds ago. Now the hands hung inertly entwined with each other between them. Not a terrible sensation, even though he usually hated touch. “I’m nice….it’s nice to meet you too.”

“Yeah….” Liz’s eyes traced past Dion to what was behind him. One of her ears flicked and turned a little red before she looked back at him. “Nice…..”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“…am I supposed to let go of your hand yet?” Dion asked. Even after all this time, he was unsure of the proper length of time for a handshake.

“Oh!” She let go of his paw and let it rest on the table. “Sorry about that.”

They sat there, looking at each other for nearly a half minute. Neither one of them said anything. Awkward silence filled in the space between them, the kind that sucked some of the oxygen out of the room when both parties were waiting for the other to say something. Aside from that, Dion did not mind it too much. Being near someone like Elizabeth was nice. Had to wonder why she approached him. Surely, she wanted something. She kept glancing at his tail, but trying to do it in such a way it did not seem like she was looking at it. That made Dion a little self-conscious, as he forgot to brush it this morning. And yesterday morning. And the morning before that. Izorians had particularly fluffy tails, even for skunks, so he was sure it was a bit of a mess.

“So, chemistry?” Liz broke the silence and pointed to his book.

Dion nodded.

“How you like it?” Her second question.

This one required words. Better answer. “Um, I like it. It’s neat how everything combines to make everything.” Thinking about all the little molecules swirling around, beyond the reach of the naked eye, pleased him. “I want to learn everything about it.”

“I see…” Liz let the corner of her mouth slip upward into a smirk. “Guess I know who broke the curve on the last two exams.”

Dion’s inner ears instantly turned dark red. Showing off and setting oneself apart was not in his nature. He did not study to outdo his academic peers. He did it because he liked the material. “Uh…that wasn’t me. I was the next one after that…” Besides, he was not the high score champion anyway. “How’d you know that?”

“I didn’t.” Smiled showing her teeth. “You just told me.”

“….oh.” Dion’s ears lowered. Was he really that easy? Maybe he should watch his words a little more carefully. Looking at those long, soft ears, Dion knew they could hear everything.

“Hey, don’t feel bad.” No malice on Liz’s face. “I wish it came that easy to me. I see you here a lot…and in class. You’re so focused that this stuff must come natural to you.”

“Oh, yeah, seen you too. You’re at almost every class….” Dion noticed her too, of course. Rabbits were beautiful, their ears and little puff tails. They were Dion’s favorites, but he would never admit it. To Dion’s eyes, she was exceptionally pretty.

“You saw me?” She glanced at his tail again and it was her turn to have red ears. “You always sit in back, didn’t think you did.”

“Yeah….” Dion trailed off. His mouth, seeming to operate independently of his brain, formed words. “If you….need someone to study with, I’m always available. We could study together….somewhere.” Dion’s muzzle closed with all alacrity. Did he really just say that? Did he really ask to spend time with someone he just met? No, there was no way he could do that! That was the first step to getting to know someone. And if she knew what he was, the only thing she could possibly do was hate him. Maybe if he said something now, he could take it back?

He expected revulsion. Shock should have eclipsed any emotions she felt, followed swiftly by disgust. Instead, she seemed to….relax? Her tight shoulders slipped down and the tension in her face melted away. Her smile even seemed more natural.

“I was hoping you’d ask.” She said, much to Dion’s surprise. “I get off work in an hour. I’ll meet you at the Stonefox Chemistry Library in an hour and a half. See you then.”

She left to return to work long before Dion regained his composure. She said ‘yes’? Now he had to go. He looked from his food to his textbook, then to the spot where Liz sat multiple minutes ago. He was supposed to feel terrified. Instead, he felt fine. Nervous, but fine. Maybe he could interact with people? One person, anyway. If anyone else joined them at the library, he would panic.

He finished his meal in record time, stuffed the cookies in his backpack, and made it to the library an hour before Liz arrived.

Another day, another set of classes. Another evening, another study session at Stonefox. How many sessions was it this week? It was Saturday, so this was probably the fifth. One could easily find Dion and Liz. They always took the same table; one behind the stacks far away from the computers full of students using the library to waste time on the internet in a different setting than their dorm room. There they sat for hours, quietly reading their textbooks and talking about what they contained the majority of the time. Always at the same time; about a half hour after Liz got off work.

Some might have found the consistency boring, but Dion liked a good routine. Normalcy was comfortable when you were a skunk who hated surprises. When his routine involved hiding from people in the back of a library, all the better. The people at university were very different than what he was used to. He saw a little bit of it in St. Ambrose from returning students, but he had no idea how utterly alien his fellow anthros could be. They dyed their fur in outlandish colors. Dion was not aware one could even obtain fur dye in the quantities required to recolor someone’s entire torso. Or if it was healthy to take a bath in the stuff, as some seemed to. People in St. Ambrose tended to dress conservatively with more layers or less depending on the external temperature. The students’ clothing either clashed with itself or revealed so much fur that it left little to the imagination. Those who wore barely enough cloth to avoid indecent exposure charges were especially flummoxing with how cold the winter was this year. He passed multiple anthros shivering on the way to class, wearing little more than a skirt and maybe a little cloth on the chest, and those were some of the men. At least, he thought they were men, but he really did not want to talk to them to find out. Gender seemed to be a touchy subject, from what he overheard. Some people seemed to want to make themselves as ugly as possible with lots of metal loops and studs dotting their faces and fur even more unkempt than his.

Not Liz, though. It was strange but, once he got over the initial shock, he was seldom uncomfortable around her. She had a more traditional view of everything, which was comforting to someone raised in a more traditional environment. While she was outgoing, she was not outgoing in that pressured way that crossed into overbearing. Lots of questions, but never forcing answers from him. Sharp mind, too. Her natural curiosity came through whenever he spoke to her about chemistry. They greatly enjoyed books. Sometimes, they would get sidetracked for the entire study session talking about their favorite series, ‘The Voyages of the Bonny Calhoun’.

This was one of those evenings. The chemistry books lay open in front of them. Page 137 was their stopping point before they got distracted. No turning past that for the past thirty minutes.

“I still don’t get how cranking the photon carbines extra times lets them cut through the tin soldiers.” Liz commented. “In ‘The Fiefdom of Athiophel’, Pastor Ignatius cuts through three of them and still hit the control cultist. How?”

“Well, it’s a fantasy book, for one.” Dion answered. “And the other, they have internal capacitors that build charge with every crank. If you get enough energy and modify the focusing crystals, you could melt through all kinds of stuff. So yeah, I could see it.”

“Okay, but still….” Liz drummed her fingers on the table. “Three of them?”

“They are made of tin.” Dion commented. “Well, sort of. Junk metal the Cult of Gearhead Moe and his scrapcolytes welded together. They aren’t sturdy or built to last. They just wanted to stop Captain McCoy from delivering the medicine and Bibles into Athiophel’s poorest district. Preferably by sending endless waves of trash robots and trash people at them.”

“…..huh.” One of Liz’s ears flicked. “Makes….some sense, I guess.” She held up a finger. “Some. But adjusting the focus crystals? What do you mean?”

“It’s kind of cool. I read about it from some guy who made a mockup of the thing. A physicist, so he wrote out schematics and everything. I can email you the video link.”

“Email? You can’t show me the video on your phone?” Liz raised an eyebrow.

“Uh….no.”

Liz frowned, annoyed, but her expression softened when the realization hit her. “Oh, right. You’re the one guy on campus who still has a flip phone.”

Dion shrugged. “Smartphones are expensive….” That was true, but it felt a little like he was lying. Stretching the truth that much made him uncomfortable. Better amend it. “….and I don’t need one.” Vague, but good enough.

“Hm.” Another ear flick. Liz always did that when she was thinking. Dion really hoped she never asked him if he found it cute. He would have to say ‘yes’ to avoid lying. “How about on mine?”

Her smartphone was in her backpack. She pulled it out and set it on the table a foot away from Dion. His first instinct was to slide away from it. Electronics that complicated were a problem. She stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to take it. When his inertia made it clear he would not, she nudged it forward.

“Go on. Oh, right, it’s locked.” She swiped a finger over the screen and tapped in a code faster than Dion could follow. “There, should be fine.”

Now he had to take it. No, he did not. He should not. He knew what would happen if he picked it up. What other excuse could he give? He could not lie, especially not to her. Fingers reached toward it. His eyes were glued on the screen. As his fingers neared it, he saw bits of static crackle along the edges. Icons on the home screen distorted. Say something before you ruin her phone, Dion. Think of something. Anything!

He pulled his pack back. “I can’t remember the link.” Spilled out of his mouth. Not a lie. He was just thankful he remembered he forgot.

“Ah.” Liz collected her phone. “That’s fine. Email it to me later.”

“I’ll do that.” Dion felt his pulse slow to the double digits. She had no idea how close she came to needing a new phone, nor did she know how close she came to hating his guts. Secret was still safe.

“Can’t wait to see it.” Liz replied. “I hope he explains how it can punch through a bunch’a guys, but not the airship’s hull.”

“That?” Dion smirked. “That’s because if it did, it’d be really inconvenient to the book’s plot.”

“Think so? Sounds like a cop out.”

Dion flicked a paw. “Welcome to the world of fiction. Suspension of disbelief.”

Liz let out a short, pleasant laugh that let Dion know he said the right thing. Even though she laughed often around him, it was never derisive, as he always pictured laughter to be. As one could imagine, his home life was very serious.

“Fantastical worlds of majesty.” Liz used her dramatic voice. “Where you can make up whatever you want. Like elves and fairies and magic.”

The mention of magic always made the muscles in the back of his neck tighten up. He really needed to get that under control, but one had to remember he had not been away from home for long. The world was still hostile.

“Magic!” Liz waved a paw in Dion’s face as if she was casting some unknown cantrip. It made Dion relax. Just a joke. Had to be. Her form was terrible.

“Well….our school mascot is a wizard.” The Monroe Battle Wizards was the name adorning all the uniforms of the university’s various sports teams. Logic dictated an actual wizard going here would be so obvious no one would look for him.

“So I guess we’re all….” Liz looked at her wristwatch. “….late. Hm. Uh….” She glanced at the open chemistry book. “I guess we didn’t study much.”

“Sorry….guess I got carried away.” So much for helping with her studies. Dion felt a little guilty. “Guess it’ll be my fault if you don’t pass.”

“I’ll pass. As my dad always says, ‘D is for done!’”

Dion could not decide whether to wince or roll his eyes. “That’s terrible.”

“So’re most of our professors, so I’ll get an A out of spite.”

“That’s more like it.” Dion knew she was taking this seriously. She may have been a little silly at times, but the carefree attitude was refreshing. “But, maybe we could…separate out the time better? We could talk books at lunch tomorrow?” He offered.

“Lunch together?” Liz raised an eyebrow and tilted her head.

“Yeah.” Dion nodded, missing her confused expression entirely. “There’s this restaurant called Easy Place near campus. I’ve always wanted to try Chinese food and I hear good stuff about it.”

Liz smiled and her eyes lit up in a most befuddling expression. She looked so happy. Had she never eaten Chinese food either? He nearly said something before she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.

Startled? You bet he was. Every muscle froze up with uncertainty. A beautiful rabbit hugged him and the skunk was unable to process this. Why? What did he say? Was this good? He was not under attack, was he? No. Her fur was so soft. Being this close to her was nice. Was she sensitive to magic? She smelled wonderful; the cafeteria made chocolate cake today and she must have been near the ovens. He better not accidentally shock her or something. No, no danger of that, right? Wait, was this okay? Something about Izorians and other races….no, did not matter.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me on a date.” Her words broke through the inner maelstrom of confused thoughts. “Is 11 okay?”

“….11’s great.” Mouth operating independently of the brain again.

“I’ll see you then.”

And she was gone by the time he recovered. Dion looked at his chemistry book and slowly closed the cover. He had a date. With a bunny. A Catholic bunny. What would his parents think?

He knew exactly what his parents would think. Do not date outside of your race. They will never accept you once they find out what you are. Wrong denomination. Pain.

Dion mulled this over for about five seconds, then discarded it. Being young and male and having a female interested in him, that was all it took. He liked being around her. She liked him. They could spend more time together. After that, then what? More dates? Would he fall in love? Was he already in love?

It was too much to untangle at that moment. His nature demanded he overthink it. Worry about it endlessly until he examined all the possibilities and assumed the worst in all of them. He had to act normal. Like a standard skunk, not an Izorian. Maybe…maybe he could make it work if he did? He had to. Just. Be. Normal.

He wished he could have asked someone for advice. His parents were out of the question, they would not approve and he knew it. Hector was unavailable. Jason was not even worth considering; all his relationships were virtual. Despite not going to church anymore, he knew the rules put in place by it for marriage were there for a reason. He was on his own.

The only thing he could count on was being nervous the entire date. Hopefully he did not spill anything on her.