A Girl I Don't Know

“Daddy told me boys would be falling over themselves to meet me, but I don’t think he meant it that literally.” The snark and accompanying giggle belonged to a Lamia who was coiled up on the sidewalk. She stood—rather, lifted herself up on her tail, as one can’t really stand without legs—and I dropped my hand back to my side. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m fine,” I said. I’d seen Lamia before, but none of them were as cute as this one. She was wearing a denim skirt and a plain yellow t-shirt that complimented her café-au-lait skin and dark hair, and a canvas bag was slung over her shoulder. Her tail was long and powerful, the scales patterned with dark blotches and bands on a light brown back with a splash of yellow at the tip. I didn’t realize I was staring until she leaned forward, catching my eyes with her own—emerald green with slit pupils—and grinning at an unheard joke.

“Keep staring like that and I’ll think you want to start something,” she said. I blushed and looked away, which prompted another giggle from her. “Seriously, though. What’s your name?”

“Kyle,” I blurted, scratching at the back of my neck. She grinned, which drew attention to the smattering of light-brown scales on her cheeks, like reversed freckles.

“Good morning, Kyle. My name’s Seylah.” She stuck her hand out, and I shook it. “While I’ve got you, I hope you can help me with something. You see, I’m trying to find my classroom, but….”

She fished a scrap of paper out of her bag and pointed at some of the text. It was a printout of her classes, including the times and locations.

“This is my first semester,” Seylah explained. “I just got here from my village last night, so I missed all the campus tours. Could you show me how to get to my class?”

Almost as soon as she finished speaking, the clock tower at the top of the library chimed eight o’clock. I was late for class. Then again, there was a pretty girl asking me for help, and it’s not like a few extra minutes would hurt.