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Chapter Two

A Prelude to Perspective

Very few things compare to the feeling of biting into a grilled cheese sandwich fresh off the skillet. The melted cheese combined with the buttery goodness of the bread in which it lies betwixt brings me to a state contentment better than any antidepressant or anxiety medication possibly could. On a few occasions, I've questioning why psychiatrists have never prescribed grilled cheese sandwiches to their patients. Then again, the sandwich I was biting into had bacon on it, so technically it was a bacon melt, not a grilled cheese, but that wasn't going to stop me from relishing every succulent morsel that made its way into my beak.

Regrettably, due to my penchant for taking large bites into my food, my sandwich did not last long, nor did the complimentary fries that I ordered as well. I was tempted to order another one, but I also had to watch my weight. I had already gained the freshman fifteen in the Fall semester, and if I didn't cut down on calories, I was going to get another freshman fifteen this semester as well.

Against my taste buds' yearning, I decided one sandwich was enough. Still sitting in the Ramsey Dining Hall, I checked my phone for the time. It's only been a half hour since I'd left my dorm. I questioned whether or not it was safe to go back. As nice as that hug from Perci was, I didn't want to go back to molesting each other that soon. As I mentioned before, I knew very little about grooming, so how long the process actually took was beyond me. Perhaps she had at least put her clothes on by now.

"Hey, Pat! Is that you?"

Speak of the devil. Craning my neck over my shoulder, I found the seductress herself heading straight for me, with a pizza slice box in one hand and an energy drink the other.

"Oh, hey Perci," I awkwardly returned her greeting. In all the dining halls, in all the colleges, in all the world... Well, at least she had her clothes back on, but that didn't stop the onslaught of her arms around my body once she approached me.

"Come here, you." She said, nuzzling into my neck, while my arms begrudgingly returned the hug. Fortunately, she kept it short, probably due to her food in hand. I considered it a small blessing, since those long sensual, erection-grinding hugs would probably get super awkward in public.

"Anybody sitting here?" she inquired, pointing to the chair opposite of me.

"No." I said without thinking, realizing too late that her extroverted tendencies were going to get the better of my answer.

"Thanks," she said as she planted her tush in the seat, plopped her backpack beside her chair, and opened up her pizza box without hesitation. Really should have seen that coming.

"I'm just getting some food in me before my recitation." she pointed out, right before lifting her slice to her snout and taking a major chomp out of it. While she had the decency to keep her mouth closed as she chewed, it did little to dampen the short grunts and whimpers that escaped her snout as her teeth gnashed against her food.

There was most definitely an attempt on my part at figuring out how to shoo her away with being a total asshole. However, my unfamiliarity with the basics of basic conversation gave me a disadvantage that I simply could not overcome. It was likely best to just wait for her to depart on her own.

Trying to distract myself from her poor table manners, I noticed her slice was littered with mushrooms and bell peppers. Kind of an odd combination, I thought to myself. I figured she'd be more of a meat lover's type of girl (because she's canine. That was not a dick joke).

"Sho wadduhya heifo." she blabbered with her mouth still full of pizza.

"What?"

After taking a moment to gulp everything down, she finally repeated herself, "So what are here for?"

"Uh... dinner?"

She chuckled, "Cute, but I meant what are you studying?"

"Oh," I faltered, "electrical engineering."

"Aww, that's cool. You must be super good at math. I used to be a physics major but that first year stuff really kicked my ass."

Crap, I thought to myself. That 'first year stuff' she was talking about was going to be my Thursday midterm, which I almost forgot about. I mean, I am good at math, like she assumed, but that didn't stop Physics I from kicking my ass. It was only because of the curve that I walked away with a B+. Having started Physics II this semester, my need to concentrate on the curriculum was even greater. I was probably going to have to suck it up and double down on the study material if I wanted to keep my GPA up.

"Now, I'm taking psychology," she continued, "It's pretty neat, but I'm hoping I can try my hand at physics again. Actually, maybe I could minor in it. Are you minoring in anything?"

"No, just... focusing on my major." I answered, rubbing my eyes, attempting to alleviate the headache the reminder of my physics midterm just spawned.

"You okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, just... You reminded me of my midterm for Physics II on Thursday."

"You mean... awwwwww, I'm sorry."

"Please don't," I lamented, "I mean, I was going to have to deal with it eventually."

"I hope you're good at math."

"I like to think I am."

"Oh, good. Then chances are it won't be as much of a shitshow for you as it was for me."

And with that she capped off her sort-of compliment with another bite of her vegetable-topped pizza, her moan-chewing offering me very limited relief for the still-present pain in my temple. I once again diverted my attention elsewhere until she swallowed, replacing her brutish eating sounds with a chuckle.

"What?" I queried.

"Speaking of shows, did you enjoy it?"

"Enjoy what?"

"The grooming?"

Oh come on! With the conversation starting with the topic of academia, I was certain that the events of just an hour prior weren't going to be mentioned. Instead, she once again had my blood rushing to my cheeks.

"Well, did you?" She continued to pry.

So I was left with two options: say yes and make think I was objectifying her the whole time, or say no and make her think something about her was just incredibly unattractive about her. I can't exactly recall how it came to me, but in that split-second, I realized a third option was present: to double down and be honest about the catch-22 she had me in.

"Well, if I say yes, I'm a pervert, but if I say no, I'm calling you ugly." I finally responded.

"That's... kind of a pessimist way of thinking," she chided, "I mean, I understand not wanting to be called a pervert, but I'm the one who got naked in front of you, so if anything, I'm pretty sure I'm the pervert here. Second, do you think I'm ugly?"

"No! You have a great body."

"Then, be honest with me. Did you like it?"

"It was... hot... a bit unexpected, but hot."

"Unexpected? I asked for your permission."

"Well, yeah, but... honestly, I didn't think you'd actually do it. It's not like normal people just strip in front of complete strangers!"

"I was never really known for being normal."

"That's not the point... I mean Rohan has no problem with you baring your body and flirting with other people?"

"Why would he? He's not my boyfriend."

"Wait, he isn't?"

"God, no. We used to date, but we didn't really work out that well. I'm seeing someone else now. A mountain goat named David."

"So you do have a boyfriend?"

"Yes, he's in Israel right now though."

"...And he's okay with you getting naked in front of your exes?"

"I get the feeling you're a little hung up on the naked thing."

"Because women just don't do that!" I finally barked.

At first she drew back in surprise, but after a second of recovery, her eyes grew thin with contempt. I realized that she was giving me the same facial expression she was giving Rohan when he accused her of trying to seduce him. Oh, fuck.

"Excuse me?" She retorted, "And why can't women do that?"

Wait,what? Where the hell did all this anger come from? All I said was that women just don't... Oh Jesus Christ, please tell me she didn't hear the words "women" and "don't" in the same sentence and assume I'm a misogynist. I understand that women should be treated equal to men and I don't need some female bully from the internet pretending to be a feminist to punch me in my metaphorical gut about it. Hopefully, some damage control won't be a disaster.

"I did not mean it like that!"

"Then how did you mean it?" She continued to prod.

"Give me a moment to get the words right in my head." I pleaded.

With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes and sat back in her seat, arms in a pout with an impatient index finger tapping against her arm (which wasn't helping me think at all). The truth is I really did need time to think. Sometimes, especially under pressure, the right words just don't formulate in my head, and not always in the right order. So if she was going to misinterpret me to the point of slander, then I was going to take every moment she would give me.

"I didn't mean that they're not allowed." I prefixed, "I believe in equal rights and 'my body, my choice.' It's just... up until now, none of the women I've ever met chose to do that with their body."

"So what you're saying is... it's more of a culture shock type thing." Hallelujah, crisis averted.

"Well, I don't know if I'd call it culture shock per se. It's not like I'm from some far-off land. I guess I'm just surprised you're not embarrassed or anything."

"Why should I be? It's only my body."

"And you're not worried about what people would think?"

"It's not... Let me think of how to put this in perspective..."

She snuck another nibble into her mouth as she sat back and pondered. She must've been pretty deep in thought, because the sex-like moans of her previous mastications were surprisingly absent, for which I silently thanked my lucky stars. Seconds later, she gulped everything down with a big chug of her energy drink. Leaned forward, she slammed the empty can on the table and began her improvised thesis.

"You know how some people are born gay, but then some adults will try to teach us that being gay is a sin?"

"Yeah."

"Or how people are born a certain species, but there are always bigots out there that to make us think one species is better than another?"

"Yeah."

"That's kind of how I think about nudity. Because everyone, and I mean everyone, is born naked. But then we're taught that being naked wrong just because we it reminds everybody too much of sex, which is another thing we're taught is a sin, despite the fact it's the sole way we procreate."

That... was actually a decent and understandable point. After all, I was never embarrassed when my parents bathed me as a child. I don't even remember when I started getting embarrassed about my body.

"Hmm, I've never thought about it like that." I confessed.

"And besides," she added, "it's not like I'm showing myself off for everyone to see. I know some people aren't going to be okay with me strutting around in nothing but my fur. That's why I asked for your blessing before getting groomed."

She concluded her impromptu lecture with another big bite of pizza, leaving me to mull over her words. Everything she said made sense. Nudity, like species and sexual identity, is something that we shouldn't be afraid of, even if some think otherwise.

There was just one problem, though... Only one of us actually looks good in the buff.

While she was blessed with the body of a model, I was given the body of the kid who was always picked last in gym class. Instead of her slender belly and cute derrière, my bad eating habits cursed me with the gut of an alcoholic deadbeat and a cellulite-riddled ass. How the ever-loving hell am I ever supposed to feel comfortable with anybody looking at me naked when I feel embarrassed looking at my naked self in the mirror in the privacy of my own bedroom?

"Hey!" Perci called out, bringing me from my mindspace. When I finally came to, I noticed that there were only crumbs left where her pizza slice used to be. How long was I stuck in my head?

"Did you hear what I said?" She asked. Obviously, I did not.

Shaking myself awake, I responded, "Sorry, got a little 'in my head' for a moment."

"I was asking what time your Physics midterm is on Thursday."

"Five thirty to seven. Why?"

"Oh nice. My friends are doing a bit of a get-together to de-stress from finals this Thursday. Probably sometime after then. And I figured since we're friends now, why don't I invite you?"

Friends? We're friends now? I mean, yes, I've seen her tits and pussy, but shouldn't one of us buy the other a drink first? We're... strangers with benefits, at best.

And consider how unpredictable this girl has been, I'm skeptical how I'd fare against the absolute unknown that she calls her friends.

"I don't know. I get kind of nervous around people I don't know."

"Oh, don't worry. These guys? They are the most open, friendly, judgement-free group of people you'll ever meet. If you feel uneasy, just tell them and they'll give you space, or whatever you need to feel better."

"Really?"

"Swear on my life." she promise, right hand over her breast.

I admit, making some new friends would probably relieve some of the stress from my classes, but at the same time, can I take Perci's word for it that these are good people? For all I know, they could be a greaser gang and this "de-stress" could be throwing Molotovs into an abandoned orphanage.

"How about this," she offered, "You give me your phone and I'll put my number in and text you. That way we can contact each other. I'll text you the details once everything's set up, and if you wanna come, come. And if not, don't."

Well, I had until Thursday to think about it, so I guessed there was no harm in humoring her. After a shrug, I fished my phone out of my pocket and unlocked it before handing it over to her. About a minute of ticktack against my phone's touchscreen had gone by before she handed it back to me.

"There. Now we can keep in touch."

Looking at the screen, she had sent the message "Pat's #" to a number which I presumed was hers. Seconds later a _vrrrrr_coming from Perci's pocket confirmed my hypothesis and she pulled her phone out to check.

"Oh, shit!" she exclaimed looking at her screen, "It's a quarter to eight already?"

She quickly sprouted up from her seat, stuffing her phone back into her jacket pocket, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and collecting her waste from the table.

"I need to get going. I have a recitation in fifteen minutes." She explained.

"Oh, okay," I acknowledged as she dashed to the nearest trash bin and threw out her junk, only to boomerang back and clutch me with another quick hug.

"See ya!" she waved, darting out the exit.

...

Well, that was something. Getting a lecture from a possible nudist and getting an invite to God-knows-what wasn't part of my daily agenda, but it's not like it threw my world into total chaos. Still, what could possibly be going down on Thursday? Could be anything, really. Movie marathon? Beer pong? Seance? Cock fight? Satanic ritual?

Whatever. It didn't matter right now. I had three days to think it over. All I know is that it better not be a satanic ritual. If I end up as the virgin sacrifice, I'm going to be pissed.