Once I’m dried and dressed, I throw my dirty clothes in the hamper and go to the kitchen in search of food, the roar from my stomach reminding me I haven’t eaten anything today.
“Hey, dear! Where have you been all day?” Mom walks in, carrying dirty dishes.
“I went to the library.” I know it’s only half of what I did, but I can’t exactly tell her what I did the other half of the day.
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Find any good reads?”
“Yeah, a few. I’m actually just grabbing dinner and then I’m going to get back to them.” I purse my lips, trying not to be awkward, but it’s not working.
“Sounds like a great Saturday evening. Though I’m a little surprised.” She begins rinsing off the plates.
“Oh? What makes you say that?” I ask innocently. “You know me, great big bookworm.” Which isn’t exactly true. I mean, I like books, but it’s not how I usually spend my Saturday nights. Or any night in the past few years. They’ve been permanently reserved for visits to Runavelius.
“Well, Max came looking for you. He said he was pretty sure you two had plans. Something about a date?” She grins.
I can feel a blush forming on my cheeks. “Oh.” I don’t know how to respond. After last night, I may never speak to Max again. How could I? He thinks I’m crazy. He made it clear that he believes I need professional help. How can he claim to be my friend—let alone boyfriend—when he can’t even be bothered to respect me or what I know to be true? Even if I can’t prove to him that dragons exist, he didn’t need to be a jerk about it. Did he?
“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise? Should I be concerned? Or did I just ruin the surprise?” She looks a little panicked.
“No. It’s just . . . we had a disagreement last night. I didn’t know he still planned on taking me out to dinner.”
“I’m sorry. Anything I need to be worried about?” She puts her mom face back on rather than the excited friend.
“No, it isn’t a big deal. I just don’t feel like going out tonight. I’ll text him. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Yeah, no problem. If I realized dinner was a no-go, I would have made you some too. Sorry, dear.” She kisses my forehead.
“No worries. I’m perfectly capable of fending for myself.” I chuckle.
Mom returns to Dad’s side in the front room. I can hear the TV again, so I relax and dig through the fridge, looking for something delicious, but quick and easy.
I settle on a ham and cheese sandwich, which I don’t even bother throwing in the microwave. I take it cold and return to my room with a root beer in the other hand.
I settle down in front of my desk, food to the side, books front and center.
I keep reading, looking for anything that might be helpful, and really just wishing I could get that other book today. Annoyingly, I can’t even get it tomorrow. I have to wait until Monday. Monday after school. Unless the school library has a copy, which is doubtful.
When I reach the last page of the first book and still haven’t found anything, I’m inclined to give up on the mythology aspects. I take another bite of my food and pull my laptop over, pushing the books to the side.
Yackros said dragons could be found in every country, every culture. That they were hidden around the globe. I already knew there were myths and legends surrounding their existence, beliefs, powers, and whatnot, and that they were mentioned in nearly every religion.
I do a search for “dragon culture” and get multiple pages, the first of which is a Wikipedia site. I click on it, figuring it’s gotta be just as informative as anything else I can trust online. And maybe the author of that book has been a contributor.
The first section describes what a dragon is. It goes into detail about scales and size, ideas that differ in various parts of the world, and so forth. But nothing like what I know to be true, or what Yackros and I discussed.
The page covers everything from where the word “dragon” comes from to how the myths about them got started. The more I read, the more intriguing it becomes.
In Chinese and most Asian cultures. Dragons were a good luck charm, thought to bring fortune, honor, and grant wishes. In most European cultures, they were a beast to be defeated. Especially in medieval times, they were the great test of honor. Whoever could defeat a beast so large and powerful could surely be king.
Everything varies greatly depending on what they believed, their religion, and how myths in those parts began.
Much like owls, in many parts they were seen as symbols of wisdom, including the great dragon’s pearl. A jewel that contained all the knowledge of the world. Only dragons could wield it because only they were strong enough to carry such information all at once. And thus, people would travel far and wide to see the dragon and ask for wisdom, which he would then garner from the pearl.
A knock on my bedroom door pulls me away from reading further on the jewel. “Yes?” I ask. Without a word, the door opens and Max slips inside, leaning against the wall as though trying not to be seen or something.
“What are you doing here, Max?” The annoyance in my voice is a little harsher than I intended, but no less deserved.
He flinches. “I came to apologize. You know I care about you, Alita. I would never intentionally hurt you or argue with you. I don’t understand where you’re coming from, but that doesn’t mean we have to fight, and I certainly didn’t need to come off so rude. And I am sorry. I am so sorry.”
“Being sorry doesn’t fix the problem. You still don’t believe me, which means you still think I’m crazy. So before you hurt me any more than you already have, please just go. Perhaps this is for the best. I’m busy. And I don’t appreciate you planning a date and telling my mother because you think that will somehow convince me to go on it.” I turn my gaze back to the computer screen, opening a new tab so Max doesn’t see what I was looking at.
The last thing I need is for Max to see me digging up information on dragons. Maybe one day I’ll show him my findings, but only to prove him wrong. To show him just why his words hurt me so much.
“That’s not why I told your mother, Alita. Last night went from one of the happiest moments to the most painful. I told you how I feel about you, and in that moment, you felt the same way. Nothing has ever felt so right as holding you in my arms. I don’t want a silly fairy tale to come between us.”
“The problem is that I told you it’s not a fairy tale. They’re real. And even while you’re apologizing, you still think it’s the silly fairy tale coming between us. It’s not. It’s the fact that you honestly thought I’d accept that apology after you insulted me.”
He reaches out a hand, and despite being angry with him, I take it, standing up and going to him. I’m clearly not thinking straight. “That’s not true. I didn’t come here for an apology, Alita. I came here to apologize.” His hand snakes around my waist as he tries to pull me closer.
“Stop,” I whimper, stepping back and tripping over the chair, which doesn’t help the pain in the least.
“What? What is it? What happened to your back? Alita, please talk to me.” Max comes to me, grasping my shoulders and without knowing it, helping me remain on my feet.
“I can’t, Max. I can’t do this. I can’t pretend I’m not hurt by what you said. You don’t have to believe me, but you can’t be here getting what you want from me and not giving anything back.” I shake my head.
With such tenderness, the same level of caring that drew me to him in the first place, he wraps his arms around my shoulders. “I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I can’t pretend I believe in dragons, but I do believe in you. Can we start there?” A brush against my skin so soft, I think he kissed my temple, but I can’t be sure.
“I could agree to that. But we can’t avoid the issue forever.”
“I don’t plan to. Just tonight, okay? We’ll take this one day at a time.”
“One day at a time,” I agree.
“Let’s start with
what’s wrong with your back.” He holds me at arm’s length, giving me a knowing look.
I shake my head. “We can’t discuss it. Tonight, it’s off the table.” If we can’t talk about dragons, we can’t talk about the injuries caused by them.
He crosses his arms across his chest. “Given your strong reaction to a brush against it, barely a touch at all, I think it’s something you should have looked at. You can’t tell me it’s part of the dra—”
I hold up my index finger, shushing him. “Nope. Don’t say anything more and start this whole fight again. You asked that we not talk about them tonight. So let it go.”
“Fine. But please tell me you at least had someone look at it.”
I shake my head defiantly. “Of course not, Max, because I can’t tell anyone how I got it. You see, those things go hand in hand. I can’t pretend my life is different from what it really is.”
He runs his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath. “Let me see it. I’m not a doctor, obviously, but at least I can get an idea of how bad it is, and whether or not you should have someone else look at it.”
I shake my head again, more forcibly this time. “Absolutely not. I’ve seen it. It’s fine. Not a huge deal. It just needs time.”
He brushes a strand of hair from my face. “Please let me make sure you’re okay.”
“If I do, will you leave it alone?” I ask in the same hushed tone he used.
“Yes,” is his simple reply.
I turn around and twist my hair into a rope, pulling it over my shoulder. Max picks up the edge of my shirt and lifts it just enough to see my back. All I hear is silence until a cool hand gently runs over my skin, causing goose bumps everywhere.
“You beautiful, smart, talented woman, what on earth happened to you? How could you possibly act like this isn’t a big deal?” I feel the shirt placed back against my skin and Max’s strong hands on my shoulders, turning me into him again.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I say, knowing that’s not true, but unsure how else to respond.
“I don’t believe you, but I won’t argue because I know you’re stubborn. Instead, can I take you to dinner?”
“Actually, I’m super tired. Maybe next week? I’d really like to just sleep right now,” I lie. I don’t want to go to dinner, but I don’t plan on sleeping. I need answers.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Can I come over tomorrow?” He looks so hopeful.
“I’ll text you. I’m not sure what my parents have planned.” Another bold-faced lie. But honestly, despite the fact that we’re making up—if that’s what this is—I’m still hurt, and there’s no way I’ll find an answer by tomorrow.
“Okay. Goodnight. I love you.” He pulls me closer again, kissing me. I return the kiss, but he holds on a little longer than I want. I let him finish, and close the door behind him when he leaves.
“Love you too,” I mutter.
12
History is one of the most boring classes I can think of. It helps a little that Mr. Erickson tries to make it fun and interactive.
I sit down and pull out my notebook and pencil with the intention of paying attention. Instead, I make a list of the things still weighing on my mind. And the fact that I don’t have any more answers than I did a week ago.
Dragons in the Dragoon Mountains.
A hidden forest.
Magic? How was the “cloak” or force-field (shield?) put over an entire forest?
Wizards? Witches?
How is it that no one else has come across them before? Surely I’m not the only one ever to get lost in that forest. So why doesn’t anyone believe me? Ask Yackros.
I circle the last two words. I need to return tonight. I need answers. There is so much about this that doesn’t make sense.
Yackros said more powers would develop. As our bond grew stronger, more connections would become evident. I’m starting to think one of those abilities is hearing because the constant clock ticking is driving me crazy. And the device in question is on the opposite side of the classroom, far above my head, and shouldn’t be audible at all.
It’s been the same in every classroom all day. Teachers droning on as if any student is listening to them. Let’s get real—school is almost out, and no kid wants to be inside. And the clock, ticking and tocking, as if I need the reminder of when I can leave and go to the library.
There’s an uproar of laughter throughout the room. I look up, wondering what I missed. All eyes seem to be on one of the guys beside the window, whom I don’t know.
“So, is that how we name everything now? We play football—” He looks at the guys around him. “But it isn’t because the ball is made of foot.”
Another round of laughing.
Mr. Erickson leans forward, smacking his knee. “Indeed. I mean, a good number of you are from Dragoon, a small town with a very mythical-sounding name. But we don’t believe in those creatures, right? So while I understand your humor, that’s not how it works.” He continues chuckling.
I want to join in on the joke, but I have no idea what they’re talking about. Except what Mr. Erickson just said. Were the town, and mountain, and spring all named after dragons? The dragons in hiding? Does someone else know about them? Is it all one big secret everyone knows but we don’t talk about, like Santa and the Tooth Fairy?
I try to listen for the remainder of the class, but no dragons are mentioned again, and there’s only talk of part of history I don’t know because I wasn’t listening before.
When the bell rings, everyone dashes for the door. I take my time packing up my notebook, waiting for everyone else to leave before approaching the front desk.
“Mr. Erickson?”
“Hmm?” He looks up from putting papers in the desk drawer.
“I know you were joking about the dragons and Dragoon’s name, but I was wondering, why is it named that?”
One of his brows quirks up, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, his fingers stroking his jaw. “That is an excellent question. I’m afraid I don’t know the real answer. How about we both go home tonight and look into it? We’ll compare notes tomorrow. And if you get it right, I’ll give you extra credit. Deal?”
“Sure. Thanks!”
I’m grateful I have a free period next. I doubt I’d have time to do research tonight, even just online. Not when I have a dragon to visit.
The bell rings, sounding louder than usual. Yeah, my hearing has definitely been enhanced. There is no way these things have always been so loud. If it wasn’t so unexpected and kinda irritating, it would be really cool. Which is probably how I’ll see it later when I can test it out alone instead of having to pretend everything is fine in the middle of the day, surrounded by people who just love to make fun of me.
I grab my bag, all my things already stuffed inside, and head for the door, unable to get out of there fast enough. I have research to do. I head straight for the school library, where I sign in and get on the computer in the corner, so I’ll be away from prying eyes.
The first thing I google is “Dragoon Arizona named after?” in hopes that keeping it short will bring up more results. The first link seems promising. I click on it and read over everything it says.
The U.S. Dragoons, Civil War, fight between the Apache warriors and the Confederate soldiers. The spring was named after the 1st Calvary Regiment.
I skim over dates, specific details that have no bearing on what I want to know. According to this, the area was named all because of that regiment who were on their way to establish Fort Buchanan. In 1856. I write that date down.
How long have dragons been living here? Is it possible that the men in that group met the dragons? Or even the Apache warriors? What are the odds that there are dragons in the Dragoon Mountains and the name isn’t at all related?
I make a list of such questions to pester Yackros with later and head to my next class—the horror that is math.
The moment the final bell rings, I’m standing and heading
for the door. In my hurried need to get out of there, it feels like time has slowed down, and every student who could be in my way, is. Which is irritating beyond reason.
“Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me.” I’ve probably said those two words a hundred times over and I’m not even free yet.
I keep my head down as I march toward the door, hoping to reach the parking lot while it’s still relatively empty so I can get to the library as fast as possible and work in peace. As I pass the row of lockers, I notice the gang of boys all laughing their heads off, watching the guy in the middle leaning against the locker, which seems to be making noise.
“Let me out!” a voice yells.
Another round of laughter from the guys. I shake my head, tempted to sneak on by and leave it alone. The last thing I want is to become the center of attention, but I can’t walk past someone in need and not help.
“Hey, let him out of there,” I say, probably too quietly.
Or not. One of the guys looks at me with a deadly gleam in his eyes. “What did you say?” he asks, sounding a little surprised.
“I said let him out of there,” I repeat.
“And why would we do that? Because you, a little nobody, said we should?” The guy, standing above me, comes a little closer.
“Hey,” the tall blond says, pointing at me as he begins chuckling. “Aren’t you the dragon girl?”
“Huh?” I asked, taken aback.
“Yeah, you’re the little nobody who asked about dragons in history class. I’ve been seeing your name and dragons together everywhere lately. What’s that about?” He steps closer, and suddenly I feel like they’re trying to cage me in.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Which is true. I really don’t have any clue.
“Yeah,” another one pipes up. “It’s all over the internet. The girl with the dragon obsession.” He holds up his phone for me to see. Meme after meme, each one from my schoolmates, with various degrading taglines, jokes, and lies all at my expense.
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