Page 1 of To Cuddle A Gremlin

CHAPTER 1

Kazmier: Did you see the new update?

Crash: Yeah, bout time we got new content

Kazmier: Right? But the devs require real world currency

Kazmier: I don’t have the cash to buy all the shit to boost my characters.

Crash: Me neither. Sigh, I guess we need to do more grinding

Kazmier: Ugh, grinding. The best part of any MMO

Crash: I thought it was the witty conversation

Kazmier: Crash, are you flirting with me?

Crash: What? No. I’d never. Just no.

Kazmier: You doth protest too much

Crash: Listen, I gotta raid. Later

Kazmier: Scaredy cat.

The crackling pop of a coffeepot hitting the ground shattered the quiet hum of lunchtime at the small café. Sebastian lifted his head so fast he twinged a muscle in his neck. He’d been chatting with an online friend, Kazmier, in a mobile game while not looking at his crush, who happened to be sitting across the restaurant. His own nickname, Crash, was an homage to how he felt on dates. He always crashed and burned.

Isadore Jones, with long auburn hair and smiling eyes, was a cryptid of sorts and had light grey skin and pointy ears. Sebastian would never dare ask what species because that would be rude. Being in the same room made Sebastian nervous. Isadore was bright and cheerful, the exact opposite of Sebastian. Daring to even talk to Isadore would fluster him.

Taking a calming breath, Sebastian glanced around the café and saw Becky, the newest waitress, with a broom and dustpan. She was still a bit clumsy and nervous. Most of the regulars recognized the anxiety and tried to make Becky feel more at ease. As he glanced around the restaurant, Sebastian met the deep sea-blue eyes of the man he was carefully not watching. Isadore winked at him, and Sebastian’s cheeks heated. Dammit, Isadore wasn’t supposed to know he’d been mooning after him. He returned the smile before dropping his attention to the cell phone game.

Clearing his mind, Sebastian ignored the rush of anxiety from meeting Isadore’s eyes. Every day for the past year, Sebastian would come into the café on the corner for lunch, and every day, Isadore would be sitting in his usual spot with either his brother Tony or friend Henry. His long, wavy hair would be pulled away from his face in a loose bun or caught up in a half-ponytail. He’d either be working on two laptops at once or joking around with his friends. If Tony got huffy, Isadore would give puppy-dog eyes, and Tony would subside. His endless joie de vivre fascinated Sebastian, who couldn’t joke to save his life.

On the rare occasion, Sebastian forgot himself, and he’d catch Isadore’s eye and receive an arched eyebrow and a gentle smile. It seemed like an invitation, but no way would the tall, awkward, and shy Sebastian get the nerve to approach Isadore. His tongue froze up and twisted at the mere idea of sharing a conversation.

He took his time shutting his tablet and bundling himself against the cool fall weather. Then Sebastian paid his bill and meandered out of the café, darting a last look at the man in the corner. Isadore was already staring at his laptop, nodding at what his companions were saying. Sebastian’s moment, if he had one, was gone.

His walk back to the library where he worked was brisk as he tried not to feel the cold. His huffs and puffs fogged his glasses, making the short trek more treacherous than normal as he dodged people walking the other way. Once past the gauntlet of pedestrians and in the warm vestibule, he unwound his scarf and removed his toque. Sebastian ducked into the staff workroom, where his coworker Sammi scooped up the last of her pasta.

“How was the café today?” Sammi asked, swinging her braids over her shoulder as Sebastian fluffed his spiky black hair. Wearing a toque always gave him hat head. He was tempted to ignore Sammi’s question, but their relationship was built on listening and sharing. She helped him find words to use when confronted with strong personalities. As much as he wanted to discuss Isadore’s smile to Sammi, he wasn’t sure he could explain what Isadore’s expression did to his insides. She’d encourage with forcefulness to confront Isadore, but he neededto be mentally prepared to start speaking to him. He liked watching people from afar and making up stories about their lives. It was safe. His imagination didn’t expect him to greet strangers with a positive expression while interacting with them on a continuous basis.

Gathering strength, he met the deep brown eyes of his coworker and answered. “Food was good. I made a decent trade in one of the micro-transactions in my games. Becky broke another carafe. Scared the crap out of me.”

“Oh, interesting. How many coffeepots is that now?” Sammi’s brow furrowed as she puzzled over the coffeepot situation. Sebastian smiled. He had managed to change the subject enough so she was too distracted to ask about Mr. Mysterious, as he called Isadore. “I do wonder how she manages to keep her job. Anyway, anything else interesting happen? Besides Becky and your cell phone game.”

Sebastian shook his head, willing himself to stay silent. The urge to explain how intriguing Isadore was threatened to overwhelm Sebastian. He ached to decipher why Isadore had this ability to spark emotions when no one else managed. And while he hoped to hold onto his concerns until he had the time to study them, Sammi had skills to pry out his most tightly kept secrets. While sympathetic to Sebastian’s struggles with people and unfamiliar territory, Sammi’s curiosity about Isadore was insatiable. She had to know every detail, and her biggest goal in life was to convince Sebastian to speak to him. Every day, she pulled him farther from the shell he protected himself with.

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian set his hand on the door handle, ready to step out, but he stopped at how she said his name. “I think he smiled at me as I left.”

“Sebby, ohh. That’s amazing. Oh, I am so happy!” Sammi squeezed his hands and beamed. They exited the staff roomtogether and settled at the circulation desk, where a senior stood patiently. “Mrs. Wilde, my favourite lady. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“No, dear. I wasn’t.” Mrs. Wilde was an older patron who visited the library every week. With her husband gone, she lived vicariously through the stories of the local librarians.

“You two are beaming. What have you been up to?” Mrs. Wilde asked. She studied Sebastian with a teacher’s patience. She was almost as bad as Sammi at yanking loose the secrets he locked in a vault.

“Nothing…not much. So, James Patterson has two new books out. Have you read them yet?” Sebastian tried to change the subject to something safe. Discussing his crush at work always left him flustered and unsure. He scanned every item. “Would you like me to put the titles on hold for you?”

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