Chapter 24

Brandon and I show my father around the Creelin campus, passing by maintenance ghosts and zombies who are readying the school for winter.

"This is a very nice facility," my father says when I show him the music rooms. I play him a song I wrote for the guitar, and he nods.

I don't need his permission to do anything anymore, but part of me wanted it, at least somewhat. Something inside me eases at his proud nod.

I was shocked to see my father here in Pennsylvania, and I'm even more shocked that he approves of what I'm doing. I guess seeing me out in public in my true form meant something to him. He thought I was embarrassed about being a nokk. And I was, I think.

Now, though, I walk across the quad with my green skin on display, holding my boyfriend's hand.

So maybe I am finding my own way within the parameters of the form I've been given. I could be resentful of the Halloween Wave changing me in my mother's womb. But instead, I'm learning to be content with who I am.

Once we have finished the tour, my father tells me he is going to go back to his hotel, but he will visit me again before he leaves town. Apparently he is planning to see some of the USA while he is here.

Brandon and I drop Pappa off at his hotel, and then Bran drives the two of us back to campus. He looks at me, grinning. "When you first got to Creelin, I wanted to charm you. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't have to deal with another roommate who hated me or who would never let me into the room because he was always having sex."

"You did charm me," I say. "But I think you should definitely be in the room for the sex."

"Good idea," Brandon says, and I laugh as he steps on the gas.

After we make love, we lie in bed. It's started raining, and soon the weather will turn even colder. That feels like home to me. Although being with Brandon feels that way, too.

"What would you be doing if you could do anything?" Brandon asks, his fingers tracing a pattern on my chest. "Big picture, and you can't say you'd be lying in bed with me."

The answer is easy. "I'd start a band and play guitar in it."

"Do you have some friends who could play with you?"

"I … I don't know. I can ask the other students."

"Why don't you put out a call for auditions? See if you can find a drummer and a bassist—at a minimum—if that's the kind of music you want to play. Or do you want violins?"

My mind starts working hard, thinking of all the music I want to play. "I want it all. Do you think anyone would respond?"

"I do."

We put up a flyer online and in the music department, and a week later, Professor Lopez lets me use a studio for tryouts.

A djinn appears, and he plays the bass. We get along immediately, because he's got a cool soul. Then a group of vampires playing trombones. I wasn't planning on a horn section, but I decide that I'll think about it. A shifter—I'm not sure what kind—is amazing at the drums. After hearing a bunch of drummers, I know she's the one I'm going to want to call back.

And I'm pumped. Excited. I know that this could work.

Two days later, my new band has a meeting. "So, do we want to try writing our own music, or do we want to play covers?" the djinn asks.

"I want to play original music," I say. "Is that all right? I can sing for you the sort of thing I'm thinking about."

I plug in my guitar, tune it quickly, and start strumming, singing along quietly. They get the idea, and soon they're mesmerized. I don't think it's because I'm enchanting them—I'm actively trying not to. I think it's because they're the right ones.

The drummer starts tapping out the rhythm, and the bassist picks out a tune, harmonizing with me. Then we're all jamming together.

I'm smiling. Since I met Brandon, I've smiled more than I did in my entire life before. But this is exceptional smiling. And it's all because of Bran. Without his encouragement, it would never have occurred to me to put myself out there. But now I'm thinking that this is what I truly want to be doing with my life.

Playing my music. With, possibly, new friends.

I don't even care if we do well financially, though I suppose the other band members may have opinions about that. But what's important to me is that I love the sounds we're making. Maybe, together, we can make other people's lives better.

Rather than dragging them down, I want to lift them up.

This may be my life's work.

Our finals are done—both Brandon and I did well—and now it's Christmastime. We're in the cool Arizona desert. Brandon's fussing about me getting dehydrated, and he insists on us jumping in a saltwater pool a few times a day.

I love him for it.

I have met Brandon's boisterous family, who generally seem to be accepting that Bran is dating—soul-mated with—a monster. Apparently his older brother is dating an elf, so perhaps that helps.

Brandon's parents are both teachers, so they have the winter break off and are happy to show me around this region that is very unlike anything I am used to. I do not think I would want to live here year-round. But I love the flavors of the new foods they offer me to try—so different from the fish I grew up with. And I love the way everyone in this family is cheerful and encouraging.

My English continues to improve, now that I have been in this country for several months. But when we all sit down to watch movies, Brandon makes sure to put on Norwegian subtitles, just in case. We watch many Christmas movies from the eighties, and I listen to stories about Brandon's abuelo.

Even though I am in the desert, as far away from my home as I can be, this is where I belong: wherever Brandon is.