Winging It

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Winging It Page 2

by Deborah Cooke


  But she was with Jessica.

  Which brought me right back to square one.

  I could have used a confidence boost, the kind I get from shifting shape, but Derek was too close. He would notice the sudden appearance of a dragon in the bleachers and he’d guess that the dragon and I were one and the same. (He didn’t seem to be stupid.) That was Covenant-breaking territory again. I shoved my hands into my pockets and tried to content myself with shifting my thumbnail to a talon instead.

  It was no substitute.

  I didn’t eat my granola bar, even though it was chocolate-dipped. That tells you everything you need to know about the state of the world in Zoë terms.

  Like I said, it was nearly my sixteenth birthday. There were three things I wanted for the big day:

  1. A grudge match against Kohana, the Thunderbird shifter who’d lied to me, plus worked with the Mages to nearly wipe me and the rest of the Pyr off the map.

  2. A tattoo.

  3. A chance to see Jared again, if only to find out that I was never going to see him again.

  Of the above, I had a remote chance of achieving only #3. Even with it being my birthday. I knew what my dad thought about me fighting anyone, and I knew what my mom thought of tattoos. But they both knew Jared, and they knew I knew him. And his band was playing a concert right in town, on Saturday (thus not a school night) at a co-op club downtown that didn’t serve alcohol.

  The way I saw it, Jared had chosen the venue because he expected me to come.

  Or he was daring me.

  He’s like that. Irreverent. Challenging.

  Hot.

  Whether it was to deliver the flight on Dragon Air that I owed him, to snag another kiss – just to verify that the first one had, in fact, been amazing and of the bone-melting variety – or to barter for another peek at the book he had on my kind, didn’t really matter.

  I wanted to go.

  I needed to go.

  Which meant that I needed to persuade my mom that going was a good idea. And do it without beguiling her. Beguiling is kind of like hypnosis and it’s a dragon trick I mastered pretty early. We conjure flames in our eyes; the humans look closer; we make suggestions. That’s beguiling. As you might expect, it works best when it’s a suggestion the person already wants to take – which meant that beguiling my mom wasn’t a good plan on a whole bunch of fronts. She’d likely catch me – she’s not stupid, either – and then I’d be toast.

  Better to go with plain old begging.

  Negotiating.

  Shameless groveling.

  Even being a dragon girl didn’t make me think that sneaking out to go to the concert without parental approval would end well.

  So, I had to convince my mom.

  I was running out of time – it was Thursday and the concert was Saturday. This had to be the day.

  I figured I was due for something to go right.

  During art class I sent a message to Nick, asking his advice about Meagan (and nearly had my fabulous shiny new messenger confiscated in the process. My mom says kids used to have cell phones which were plenty good enough, that they didn’t need messengers with all their apps and computing powers, right in their hands all the time. Wrong. Mine is my umbilical cord to the world). He told me – predictably – that I was making too big of a deal about it.

  Talk to her. Hang out with her. Just don’t talk about THAT. You can be friends and still have ONE secret.

  Right.

  Meagan was at her locker when I got out of science class at the end of the day. She was alone, which had to be a good sign for making up, and tugging on her coat.

  I decided to make a valiant effort.

  ‘Hi,’ I said as I unlocked my locker. She glanced up but didn’t say anything. Then she started to rummage in her locker.

  At least she hadn’t left.

  ‘Going to the game?’ I asked, even though I could guess the answer.

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve got two hours of piano practice to finish before dinner.’ She shoved a couple of books into her bag and zipped it up.

  She didn’t ask me if I was going, which would have been a nice opening, but I’d make my own.

  ‘So, I was thinking, maybe I could have lunch with you and Jessica one day. Maybe tomorrow. You know, so I could get to know her a bit.’

  Meagan looked at me. She tended to be very serious, but even if she hadn’t been, her glasses made her look that way.

  I smiled. ‘I don’t want to fight with you,’ I said, feeling that it was impossibly lame. ‘Maybe we can hang out.’

  Meagan sighed. She glanced down the hall, then back at me. She looked me right in the eye. ‘Will you tell me what’s going on when you can?’

  ‘I’d tell you everything right this minute if I could.’

  She smiled a little then, a bit of a sad smile, but anything she might have said was cut short.

  By guess who.

  ‘Meagan!’ Jessica shouted. ‘You’ll never believe what I got on that math test! Woo-HOOO!’

  Meagan turned toward her new friend, and I stared at my boots. They squealed together about Jessica’s perfect score – how either of them could be surprised by that was a mystery – and I felt completely excluded from the discussion. Forgotten.

  ‘Going to the game?’ a guy asked, from my other side.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  It was Derek. How long had he been there? I was surprised that he’d done that silent approach thing again, but there was no disputing it – I hadn’t heard him.

  I looked him up and down. He was just a bit taller than me. He was watching me closely. His eyes were a very pale blue, almost icy, and he didn’t seem to blink much.

  That made me feel awkward, too. I got interested in my books.

  Dropped three.

  He reached for them when I reached for them and our hands brushed. I pulled mine back like I’d been burned. He picked up my books and handed them to me. If I’d been blushing before, I had to be as red as a beet then.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Didn’t mean to surprise you.’ He shrugged and hefted his bag of gear. ‘Just thought I’d ask.’

  ‘You’re on the team?’ The fact that he had a bag of football gear made that a stupid question, but it was too late to pretend I hadn’t said it.

  He glanced at the bag, then back at me, and almost smiled. ‘So?’

  I liked that he didn’t make a big deal of my stupid question. Or about me being awkward and flustered. He was still giving me a shy smile, like he would wait all week for me to answer. I was a bit disconcerted by how steadily he watched me.

  ‘Um, I’m not sure.’ I turned to Meagan as if I would ask her, but she had already moved down the hall, hauling her backpack onto her shoulders and laughing with Jessica. They hugged and then Jessica headed for the far doors. Meagan turned toward the bathroom, her coat swinging open and her gloves in her hands.

  In that moment, I saw my nemesis, Suzanne, and her followers coming down the corridor toward us. They were already in their cheerleader uniforms, the four of them cutting a path through the kids in the hallway like they were royalty. Suzanne was – naturally – in the lead. She swung her hips hard as she walked, making the pleats of her little skirt flip up. Every guy in the vicinity was watching her thighs. Probably salivating. Suzanne knew it – and she loved it. She had buckets of confidence and seemed to expect to be the center of attention.

  All the time.

  I swear she was taking inventory of who was looking.

  But her smile dimmed when she saw Meagan. She watched Meagan go into the bathroom – oblivious – and her expression turned mean. She waved off her minions and strolled in after Meagan.

  I had a really bad feeling about that.

  ‘Good luck in the game, then,’ I said brightly to Derek, remembering a bit late that he was still there, waiting. I smiled at him, grabbed my stuff, slammed my locker, and headed down the hall.

  ‘Thanks.’ His single word seemed
to follow me.

  Like old-speak, almost.

  That caught my attention. Old-speak is dragon stuff, speech uttered at a lower frequency than humans can hear. It slides into your thoughts, mingles with them, starts to seem like your own idea.

  But only dragons can do it (yes, some better than others) and Derek wasn’t Pyr.

  By the time I looked back, Derek was striding toward the guys’ locker room.

  As if he’d forgotten me, too.

  At that moment, though, I had bigger mysteries to solve than guys and their presto-chango interest.

  Meagan. No coincidence that the first time I’d made even a partial shift to dragon form had been in defense of Meagan.

  When Suzanne had picked a fight in gym.

  I wasn’t going to let Suzanne bully my friend again.

  I opened the door to the bathroom silently, freezing when I overheard Suzanne’s words.

  ‘Listen, Jameson.’ There was menace in Suzanne’s tone, a menace I would have heard even if I hadn’t had sensitive hearing. The sound of it made me shiver. ‘We’re going to come to an understanding right here and right now.’

  ‘B-b-but I-I-I—’ Meagan stammered, the way she always does when she’s nervous. I closed the bathroom door quietly behind myself. I turned the dead bolt – silently – so no one else could join us, then stood completely still as I listened.

  Lucky for me the bathroom was designed to provide some privacy. There was a short wall opposite the door, one that hid the stalls from the hallway even when the door was open. I lurked in that space, invisible to Meagan and to Suzanne, too.

  And I eavesdropped.

  I could almost hear Meagan sweat.

  ‘I need to pass this trig test or they’re going to cancel my extracurricular activities,’ Suzanne whispered.

  ‘Th-th-that’s too bad.’

  ‘It would be, if it happened, but nobody takes cheerleading away from me.’ I heard Suzanne take a step. ‘So, you’re going to help me.’

  ‘Are you c-c-coming to the math lab for t-t-tutoring?’

  Suzanne laughed. ‘No. You already sit in front of me in math. Tomorrow, during the test, you’re going to pass me the answers.’

  ‘I can’t do that!’ Meagan was too horrified even to stammer.

  ‘Can’t you?’ Suzanne’s voice was low and silky. Trouble. ‘Maybe I haven’t made myself clear. This isn’t optional.’

  ‘I t-t-told you last year, I wouldn’t help you ch-ch-cheat.’ Now there were shuffling footsteps – Meagan retreating.

  ‘Maybe I can change your mind.’

  ‘N-n-no …’ I heard Meagan gasp, then something smash.

  That was followed by a muffled thump and a moan.

  Something heavy fell to the floor.

  I peeked around the wall to see Meagan doubled over and Suzanne aiming another punch at her gut. Meagan’s bag was on the ground where she’d dropped it. Her glasses were shattered against the far wall, where Suzanne had thrown them.

  So Meagan couldn’t see the blow coming.

  Suzanne had always been a contender on my Incinerate Now list, but with this move she zoomed right to the number one slot.

  I wasn’t going to stand aside and let my friend get thumped for doing the right thing.

  It was dragon time.

  I summoned the shimmer, let it rip through my body, and shifted shape with a dull roar.

  I’ve got to tell you that it feels amazing to shift shape. It’s kind of spooky at first, because the sensation is so powerful. Your instinct is to try to control it, to manage the transition, but that’s not really possible. You have to go with it.

  You have to abandon control and trust your body.

  Maybe it’s like surfing. You have to get on the wave the right way, but then you just ride and ride and ride. Over time, the getting-on-the-wave bit becomes instinctive and you just look forward to the ride.

  It’s exhilarating stuff.

  It was no different this time, even in a plain old taupe and white high school bathroom. The change ripped through me with lightning speed, surging through my veins and filling me with ferocious power. One minute, I was zitty Zoë of the virtually nonexistent breasts, and the next, I was an enormous white dragon, my talons stretching for Suzanne before she had any clue what was happening.

  She took one look at me and screamed. I did enjoy that. She fell back against the metal wall of the cubicles, shrieking. She apparently didn’t dare look away from me – she slid her hands along the edges of the cubicles, feeling her way as she put distance between us.

  I heard her cronies – Trish and Anna probably – bang on the door. ‘Suzanne! You okay? Let us in!’

  Suzanne couldn’t even answer them, she was so shocked. Her mouth was opening and closing, but just a little whimper was coming out.

  She crossed herself then, which made me laugh.

  I breathed fire as I laughed, which made her turn even more pale. I did ensure that the plume of flame roared right over her head. I wanted to scare her, not hurt her. Not really – mostly because I didn’t want to deal with repercussions. I slashed in her general direction with one claw. I sent a playful little plume of flame to burn her skirt and she screamed again.

  She stumbled over her own feet in her anxiety to get away. She grabbed the door to the next stall, and it swung open suddenly beneath her weight. She lost her balance, shouted, and fell.

  She landed sprawling on the toilet, then covered her face with her hands. She looked so graceless that I nearly laughed out loud.

  I took a step closer and smiled, letting her see all my sharp dragon teeth. She peeked through her fingers and trembled.

  ‘Don’t hurt me!’ she whispered.

  I reared back, showing off my full dragon-scaled magnificence. I gripped the walls of the cubicles and gave them a mighty shake, ripping them loose from their moorings.

  I was just warming up, but Suzanne fainted.

  Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped against the wall. Her elbow hit the lever and the toilet flushed, getting her cute little skirt wet.

  ‘Suzanne! Are you all right?’ Trish shouted, as the banging on the door grew louder.

  I had one minute to think I had done something right, and then I glanced toward Meagan. She’d retrieved her glasses and was peering through the broken lenses at me.

  I knew that look.

  I called it her Einstein look.

  She got it when she was figuring something out, connecting the dots, finding the key to the universe. My heart clenched, because Meagan is pretty much the smartest sixteen-year-old I’ve ever met.

  ‘Open this door, right this minute!’ someone shouted sternly. It sounded like the principal. I heard the jingle of keys.

  Meagan turned to the door, panic in her expression. The Einstein look was gone so fast that I wondered whether I’d imagined it. ‘I’m c-c-coming,’ she said, sparing one last look at me.

  I had to get out of there ASAP – and without Meagan seeing more than she had.

  No pressure.

  I raged fire at the ceiling, a great orange plume of crackling fire. I heard the paint blister and crack. Meagan covered her eyes against the brightness of the flames, which was all I needed. I conjured the image of exactly where I wanted to be and willed myself to be there.

  And when I opened my eyes, I was on the roof of the building where my family’s loft took up most of the top floor.

  In salamander form.

  My heart thundering.

  I took a shaky breath, crawled into the shadows by the air-conditioning units to give myself cover, then shifted to my human form.

  As usual, it felt good to just be a skinny chick again.

  And it felt awesome to have frightened Suzanne.

  She’d deserved no less.

  Being a dragon shifter completely rocks.

  Just in case I haven’t mentioned it.

  I grinned as I rummaged in my pocket for that granola bar. I needed a sugar hit be
fore I could figure out whether I had technically broken the Covenant again or not.

  * * *

  The covenant is a creed all we dragon shifters have to swear. Essentially we are forbidden from revealing ourselves in both human and dragon form to humans, and when some human does know us in both forms, my dad – as leader of the Pyr – adds that person’s name to his list.

  Those people-in-the-know are not always trusted, and he makes decisions on a case-by-case basis, but this theoretically creates a Go To list in case one of us gets targeted or stalked. My dad remembers our kind being hunted almost to extinction in the Middle Ages. He likes us staying under the radar, so to speak.

  He’d let it go when I partly shifted the previous spring, mostly because he was glad I was finally starting to shift and also because it had been only a partial shift seen by one person. Also, the punishment was tough stuff – exile, for as long as my dad decreed, to his location of choice. Corralled by his dragonsmoke, which is invisible but burns if crossed by a Pyr without permission.

  That would be the exiled dragon.

  As I snacked – and it snowed – and I thought about it, I was pretty sure I was in the clear on this incident, too. Neither Suzanne nor Meagan had seen me enter the bathroom. Neither of them had seen me before I shifted shape, so technically they’d seen me only in dragon form. Even if they suspected that there was a dragon shifter among them, they didn’t know that Zoë Sorensson had become that dragon.

  I could have believed all of that, if Meagan hadn’t given me that look.

  Had she really guessed the truth? I wasn’t sure.

  I was confident that I could argue the technicalities with my dad. I halfway believed I could win. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t exile me for another comparatively small transgression. And I wasn’t afraid of Suzanne or what she might tell her friends.

  I was most worried about Meagan.

  The standard solution for inadvertently revealing oneself as a dragon shape shifter is to beguile the human in question. But it seemed like a complete betrayal of my friendship with Meagan to beguile her. I didn’t want to do it unless it was absolutely necessary.

 

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