The door to Cafe Aroma swings open. There he stands, kilt swaying in the warm spring breeze. Otis, dashing as always. The charming Scotsman wore his typical wardrobe of yellow tank top emblazoned with SC, for Shorecrest High School where he works. Finishing the outfit with a thrilling highlander twist is a plaid kilt, with a matching sash and tam o’ shanter. His gleaming white smile blinded me, but I welcomed the brilliant sight, taking in as much of him as my tiny bead gray eyes could bear. 

We rushed into each other’s arms- well, I rushed into his. Since, you know, I have none. Because I am a stormray. 

“Otis… I feel as though I haven’t seen you in months. Ever since the Rotary Cup, I’ve been too scared to venture to your side of Aurora- we can’t risk the students finding out we’ve been fraternizing with the enemy!”

His rugged face was pinched. “I understand your anguish, my sizzling sweetheart. I wish the students could understand that they are one and the same! But alas, they would never accept us- not because we are gay, but because Shorewood and Shorecrest are fated enemies!” 

Just then, the door swung open once more, revealing the one thing we were most terrified of: a student decked out in Shorecrest gear head to foot! A dizzying mass of green and yellow stripes. 

“Otis? What are you doing with that 8.5 foot tall stingray?” 

We leapt apart, faces burning. I met Otis’s dark eyes, unsure of our next move. Hope sparked in my heart like a stray lightning bolt. Maybe it was time we showed our students our love. Maybe it was time to unite the warring units of Shorewood and Shorecrest. 

He seemed to understand me. Otis smiled once more. “No matter what happens, I love you, my sweet vertebrate.”

We turn to face the student, and find ourselves surrounded by a crowd of Shorecrest and Shorewood students- as if they had been summoned here by the sheer absurdity of it all!

“We can’t hide it any longer!” I cry out, turning to look directly into Otis’s Scottish eyes, “We’re in love!”

“Please don’t hate us, student bodies! We love you, and we want the high school’s of Shoreline, Washington to get along!” Tears rolled down Otis’s handsome face, earnest and clear as the highlander himself. 

The students followed suit– smiling through a storm(ray) of tears. 

“Oh Otis! Unnamed Stormray! We could never hate you!” One student cried out.

“For your sake, we’ll unite our schools in spirit, and support one another!” Another yelled. 

My small, stormray heart crackled with electricity. Now I could be with Otis forever, wrapped in the gentle embrace of student appreciation. 

“Now this is a sure thing.” I looked up at Otis, and we shared a loving smile, ready for an eternity of electrifying romance.