air that didn’t come from the AC. “The device I depend on to navigate the world? Yes. I have more than one.”
“Do they all have different functions? Or do you just like having different colors?”
“Oracle, lights on.” She wheeled into the room as the lights flipped on, then turned so she was parallel to him. “Right now, I’m sitting in Blanche, my house chair good for lounging around in caftans and eating cheesecake. Casual but still saucy. Over there we have Akira, my power chair for when I want to make a statement, save my friends, or fuck up the status quo all without breaking a sweat. Over there is Optimus Prime, for when I need to travel over rough terrain, which is basically most terrain in the five boroughs when you use a wheelchair because no one gives a fuck about accessibility or maintaining infrastructure. Namor is my beach buddy, with special wheels for moving across sand. That’s Evangelion, my light, stealthy, easily maneuverable chair, and, lastly, Voltron, a specially made Franken-chair that can be configured a few different ways.”
He appreciated that all of these were nerdy references, though he didn’t get them or particularly care because most of his focus was on how cool Reggie was. The way she spoke with easy, confident knowledge—and how she seemed to be daring him to contradict or question her with the raise of a brow.
Gus was a man who enjoyed a challenge, and something told him that Reggie was the best kind of challenge. “Impressive.”
She smiled, a defiant glint in her eye as she caressed the arm of her chair. “Blanche here is 3-D printed. I’ve been beta testing her for a group trying to perfect an affordable chair that can be made to order, since lots of people who need mobility devices can’t afford one good chair let alone an entire fleet.”
“That’s awesome,” he said. “I’ve 3-D printed some small parts for escape room stuff, but I never thought about this application of it.”
She maneuvered around him, heading back out into the hallway.
“Oracle, lights off. And play Reject Squad Ultra OST, please.”
“Of course, Reggie,” a robotic voice announced from hidden speakers as they entered the living room. The flute-driven intro of the show’s pop-rock theme song piped into the large room. The walls were a creamy orange that reminded Gus of sherbet, accented by a brown leather sofa set and a few low tables in dark wood.
“Just getting us in the mood,” she said, looking up at him.
A huge painting of Aurora and her nemesis, the Evil Queen Briar Rose, hung above the fireplace, which Gus found odd—both the fact that Reggie had a fireplace and the composition of the painting. It was painted to be a replica of the famous painting of Dido Belle and her cousin. Kind of weird. A cardboard cutout of Aurora and Phil in a tender embrace stood in the corner, next to sliding doors that led to a backyard.
“Why do I feel like I’m already in the Reject Squad Ultra escape room?” Gus asked playfully as he handed her the notebook with his plans for the escape room.
“Because I’ve locked all the doors and I’m not letting you leave until you love this show as much as I do,” she said, a slightly maniacal gleam in her eye.
“You said you weren’t an otaku.” Gus followed her through the dining room to the kitchen, done in yellow and ivory to complement the orange of the living room, where she pulled out a cutting board, sharp knife, and salad spinner. She placed them on the one high counter space along the kitchen walls. Everything else was slightly lower to the ground than average, modified to be more accessible from her wheelchair. The design was fantastic—clean lines, open floor space so that she could navigate easily.
“I told you I’m not an otaku. I’ll also turn you into an X-Men, Iron Heart, and Aquicorn Cove stan if given the opportunity. All in due time.” She said this with perfect seriousness and Gus couldn’t help but grin in return.
“Well, I’ll stay without resistance until at least September because I can’t return to my apartment now that I’ve experienced this AC. We can watch and read whatever you want.”
“Exxxxcellent.” There was warmth in her eyes as she looked up at him, and Gus’s chest went a little tight. “First, I read your escape room notes and save your ass.”
She moved into the dining room, pulling her chair in on one