* * *
Watching Nara practice soccer isn’t part of my “derail Nate’s plan” idea. I know I’ll get nostalgic since I really miss playing. But after Jake’s comment to Nate about Nara’s talent, my curiosity is piqued. At least that’s what I tell myself. My avid interest has nothing to do with needing another excuse to watch Nara in action.
Instead of executing my plan immediately after Nate heads off to soccer practice, I climb to the highest bleacher in the stadium and pretend to watch the football practice going on. The whole time my line of sight stays locked on the soccer field adjacent to the stadium where the girls practice.
At first I’m so caught up in watching Nara in a totally different environment that for the first twenty minutes, I’m completely absorbed in appreciating her athleticism, but after following every move she makes, I’m mystified. She hasn’t made a single error. Not one dive in the wrong direction. When it comes to one-on-one, no one seems to be able to juke her out or get past her. It’s only when she’s surrounded by most of the opposing team that she’s beaten.
I sit up straighter and shrug off my Nara fascination to watch her practice with an unbiased eye. Again and again, she makes another last minute dive to snag the ball before it goes in. This time I study her moves with skepticism. No one is that good, no matter how much they practice. It’s statistically impossible. Is she watching their eyes? Reading the players for visual cues?
Nara’s in another one-on-one situation, and just when my suspicions are about to be confirmed once more, she makes a bonehead move, falling across the goal in the wrong direction. As the ball clears past her into the net, my gaze narrows.
Nara had no reason to dive the way she did. I might not be able to see the offensive player’s expression from here, but everything about her body language, from the position of her hips to her planted foot’s stance, screamed that she’d kick the ball to the right. Yet Nara dove to the left side of the goal. Why?
Because she dove that way on purpose. I’m thoroughly surprised at the possibility that flickers through my mind. When Nara does the same thing a few minutes later, a slight smile lifts my lips and I murmur, “I knew you had layers.” My attention slits on the male soccer player standing along the edge of the soccer field, watching the girls practice. And you are so screwed, I mentally address Nate as I make my way down the bleachers.
Once I let the air out of all four of Nate’s tires—he’s lucky that’s all I did. It took all my will power not to shred them—I place a printed note behind the wiper on his windshield.
Good girls have guardian angels, known as Protection and Vengeance. It would be best for you to move on. You don’t want to meet Vengeance.
Protection
The girls’ soccer practice is almost over, so I bump my hip against Nate’s car to set off the alarm, then quietly whistle as I make my way to my car parked in a neighborhood across the street from the school.
I’m still whistling when I walk into CVAS a half hour later.
“There you are,” Sally turns from the filing cabinet behind the desk, manila folder in hand. “I’m so glad you’re here on time. We’ve just got two more dogs in. Six dogs need baths this afternoon, so you’ll be tag-teaming with William in the bathing area.”
Even learning I’ll be spending the next three hours up to my elbows in dog hair and shampoo suds doesn’t dampen my mood. “That’s fine, Sally.”
She nods toward the back. “William is already back there. He’ll point the ones out for you.”
Once I pass through the door and enter the hall, William is standing in the main kennel room, his shirt wet from the dog he’s just bathed. As I stroll toward him, he latches the clean dog inside. “One down, five more to go,” he says with a grimace, glancing up at me.
I shrug. I’m used to doing this job myself. “Which other ones need to be bathed?”
Shoving his floppy blond hair back from his forehead, William retrieves a black lab mix from her kennel, then nods toward the cage next to that one. “I’ve moved all the dogs who need to be bathed into this row of cages for now. We’ll move them back to their regular kennels once they’re dry.”
William heads back through the heavy swinging door that leads to the bathing area as I turn to the other dogs. Three of the four remaining dogs turn imploring brown eyes my way and begin to bark as if saying, “Pick me! Pick me! I want your attention, but does it have to be at the expense of enduring a bath?”
I glance past the Beagle, Chihuahua and Chow/Shepard mix to the black and brown mutt that looks like a Boxer mated with a Lab. He’s lying down with his chin on his paws. I stroll past the excited dogs, wondering at his laidback attitude with all the barking and chaos going on around him.
The moment I step within a few feet of his cage, a wave of sad acceptance overwhelms me. I stumble under the weight of it, but then continue forward with determined steps. I walk right up to the cage and open it, saying to the dog, “Come on, boy. Let’s go outside.”
He lifts his head and perks his ears at the mention of the word “outside”, then sighs and slowly lowers his chin back to his white-tipped paws, brown eyes locked on me.
Without a word, I gather his seventy-pound bulk in my arms and carry him out the back door.
When the heavy door shuts behind us, cutting off the din inside the kennel area, the dog rapidly sniffs the scents in the brisk air, then settles his cheek against my arm and takes a deep breath.
“I know,” I say as I carry him over to the line of big oak trees standing guard along the fence line at the back of CVAS’s property.
He seems to grow heavier with each step I take, but I manage to sit down next to one of the trees with him still in my arms. As I lean my back against the tree, I lower his feet to the ground.
He looks lost and confused, like he doesn’t understand why I’m not holding onto his scruff or why I haven’t put a leash on him. “Tonight’s your night.” Reaching out I scratch behind his ear and ask, “How about I call you Buddy. What do you want to do?”
He stares longingly at the woods past the fence and I stop petting him to give him a choice. “You can go there if you want to, or you can stay with me.”
When he just tucks his legs under him and lays his chin on my thigh, I blink back tears and swallow the knot until it rolls down my throat, tightening my chest. “Okay, Buddy.” My voice is gruff with emotion as I lay my hand on the top of his head, then slide my palm along his neck and back. “We’ll just hang for as long as you want.”
A few minutes pass and the night sounds grow quiet. I don’t even feel the cool air on my bare arms as I continue to stroke along his fur. He’s enjoying my attention and closes his eyes, giving me his trust. In return I give him affection for as long as I can.
William bursts through the back door, glancing all around. When he finally spots us, he strides over, looking flustered. “I wondered where you went. Come on. Let’s go.”
“I can’t help tonight, William.”
“You have to help, Ethan,” he huffs and flails his skinny arms. “I can’t bathe three more dogs alone!”
“Then get someone else.” I pat Buddy’s uplifted head back down to my thigh, then meet William’s gaze with a pointed one. “I came out here where it’s quiet for a reason.”
“We’ll just see about that.” William screws up his face. “I’m not doing all the work tonight because you’ve decided to be lazy.”
Once he stomps off and goes back inside, I chuckle when Buddy inches even closer so I can run my hand all the way down his back. “Like that, do you?”
A few minutes later Sally casually walks to the back of the property. The spotlight behind her head makes all the curly pieces of hair falling out of her ponytail look like a messy halo. She is kind of like an angel to these animals. The thought makes me smile a little.
“Hey, Ethan. I really need you to help William tonight.”
I shake my head. “Any other night I would, but not tonight.” I glanc
e down at the dog I’m petting. “Tonight is his night.”
Sally’s knees creak as she kneels to pat the dog’s head. “We have a responsibility to all the animals,” she says gently. “We can’t just pick and choose which ones we give our love to.”
I meet her sympathetic gaze with a steady one. “We do when it’s their last night.”
“Last night?” She glances down at the dog, then raises her eyebrows in happy surprise. “If you’re going to adopt him, that’s wonderful. You can give him all this extra love tomorrow, but tonight the other dogs are waiting—”
“He won’t make it until tomorrow. He’s dying.”
“How do you know?” Sally tilts her head, looking doubtful. “I know you have an amazing instinct with them, but—”
“Please get someone else to help tonight. I won’t be coming back in until he’s gone. Buddy deserves to take his last breath surrounded by affection, not a cage.”
Sally bites her lip and starts to nod when Hailey, a girl who answers the phone and takes care of administrative paperwork up front, pokes her head out the door. “Sally, Nara’s here. She wants to talk to you about working her in around her soccer schedule.”
Sally’s face brightens as she pushes herself back to a standing position. “Tell her I’ll be right there, Hailey.”
My heart jerks. “Is that Nara Collins?” I ask, my voice taut with worry for the dog and elated surprise that Nara might work here.
“Yes, Nara Collins. Do you know her?”
I shrug and try to act casual. “No, but I’ve seen her around school.”
Sally’s shoulders relax and she smiles. “Nara will stay and help with the bathing if I ask her to, so she just saved you tonight, Ethan.”
Seems to be an unintentional habit of hers, I think as I lower my gaze and say solemnly, “Thank you for giving Buddy and me some time.”
Nodding to the dog, she says, “I hope you’re wrong about him.”
My hand pauses mid-rub along his tense ribcage. “I’m not.”
The dog seems to relax once Sally closes the door behind her. I sit with him for over two hours. When his breathing starts to slow, yet his body continues to flex and spasm under my hand, I say, “It’s okay to let go, Buddy.”
His big brown eyes lock with mine and I feel his pain and the tension inside him as self-preservation continues to make him fight even when his organs have already given up. Cancer or some other kind of disease has ravaged him from the inside. I’m glad I came to work today so I could give Buddy some relief during his last moments. “Take a deep breath.” I pat him gently and speak past the ache in my chest. “Then just exhale slowly. I’m here all the way.”
As Buddy struggles to take his last breath, I don’t hold back the tears any more. I think about how much we have in common. Just like Buddy, I don’t have anyone in my life who would shed tears of understanding and acceptance over me if I were dying. I know my brother cares for me because I’m family, but I want someone who understands me, the real me, and loves me despite my weirdness. “Maybe one day, Buddy,” I whisper to his suddenly still body.
Sally is waiting for me in the back room when I carry Buddy inside. We’re the only employees left at the shelter as I lay his limp body down on the blanket she’s prepared for him. Tears make tracks down her round cheeks while she runs her hand along Buddy’s fur. Glancing up at me, she says in a sincere tone, “I won’t doubt you again, Ethan. It’s rare when we lose one, but it never gets any easier. Thank you for giving him love when he needed it most.”
Chapter Six
I’m supposed to be collecting books for the first half of the day, but instead I’m leaning on my open locker door in zombie mode from the lack of sleep the night before. When my unfocused gaze suddenly sharpens, I know; Nara’s somewhere close.
My heart rate ramps and I start scanning for her blonde head. Finally my eyes land on her on the opposite end of the hall as she turns into the locker area with Lainey. She’s talking fast and waving her hands in full-on animation over whatever story she’s relaying to her friend.
I watch them weave through the throng, my gaze tracking around people blocking my vision. It’s when I move my head to keep Nara in my line of sight that I notice something that makes my heart jerk. As they make their way to the middle of the chaotic crowd, Lainey’s been jostled at least five times, but no one has touched Nara.
While Nara rambled, she ducked under a guy spinning a basketball on his finger, twisted her shoulder to avoid being jammed by a swinging trombone case, and then at the very last second she leaned into Lainey as if to tell her something important at the exact moment a football player vaulted into the air and arched backward in order to snag a football one of his teammates had thrown across the crowd. If she hadn’t moved to the side at that exact moment, he would’ve plowed her over like a bowling pin.
Nara didn’t have a tense, anticipatory look on her face as she made her way down the hall; she moved intuitively. It was like watching a stuntman act out a fight scene in a movie, perfectly coordinated. How has no one ever noticed this about her?
When Nara and Lainey pass by, Nara glances my way and says, “Hi!”
I want to say “hey” back, but the word jams in my throat. I’m just so stunned by my sudden realization. My gaze tracks the girls until they turn the corner, while incredulous wonder flits through me. Lainey seemed completely oblivious to Nara’s synchronized movements. So even Nara’s best friend doesn’t know she’s special?
I might’ve missed an opportunity to speak to Nara, but I feel as if I just downed an energy drink. I shut my locker, hiding a pleased smile.
* * *
What I learned this morning stays with me all day. It really starts to bug me in study hall, because I still don’t know how Nara does what she does. When I saw her playing soccer yesterday, I couldn’t see her expressions from a distance, but after watching her eyes this morning, I dismiss my first, “she reads body language” impression. Now my theory is that she has some kind of intuitive ability. Which is all it is…just a theory. It’s not like I can walk up and ask her, but there’s another way to find out.
The last bell rings, signaling the end of the day. My feet take me down the hall toward the main atrium, but then I hear a shout and I look over. Nara and her teammates are goofing off with a soccer ball in the hall. Suddenly the perfect opportunity presents itself, and I find myself heading in their direction.
As one of the soccer players kicks the ball hard, Nara twists sideways and bolts after it. I blend into the small group of people walking through the hall. Nara doesn’t notice me pick up my speed to move directly behind her. Since I’m out of her line of sight, I’ve eliminated her ability to read physical cues, which gives me the chance to put this “intuitive ability” theory to the test. I speed up a bit more, then veer directly into her path.
I didn’t expect Nara to glance my way at the last second, but she does. Surprise flits across her features and she yells, “Look out!” I adjust slightly, and she zooms by so close I catch a whiff of sunshine and flowers.
But her appealing smell isn’t what briefly slows my pace. It’s the electric sensation that runs through me as our bodies nearly collide. Hot and cold shoots from my head to my feet in rapid succession, right before laser-sharp awareness zips up my spine and seizes my lungs.
Nothing I felt about her before, none of the tingling sensations I experienced whenever she entered the same room, compare to this visceral connection. The surreal moment leaves an indelible pulling impression behind, like she actually snagged a piece of my soul as she blew past. Holy shit that was intense! As elation and shock slams through me, it takes supreme effort not to meet her gaze with questions in my eyes.
All of this happens in milliseconds, leaving me shaking inside, but I force an impassive expression. Hooking the runaway ball with my foot, I send it her way, then keep on walking. I have to get out of here, distance myself from the crazy, explosive emotions she evoked. They’
re obviously some twisted mental metaphor for my final tumble off the deep end.
* * *
I’m going to try to avoid looking Nara’s way from now on. Yesterday freaked me out. I’m obviously obsessing, and the only way to alleviate an obsession is to stay away from it. The problem is…I finally got my wish. I dreamed about her last night. And I woke this morning feeling the most rested I have in a very long time.
Not good.
How do you stop thinking about someone when their very presence makes you a better person? I want to get to know her. I want to know what music she likes, if she likes pizza as much as I do, why she volunteers at the shelter, if she’s as smart to talk to about life stuff as she is in class, and I really want to know how she can do what she does.
Even though I’m not a part of her life, I console myself with the knowledge no one else seems to know about Nara’s talent. I can’t help how much I like being the only one. I ignore the fact she didn’t share this with me. And, yes, I’m fully aware I delude myself on a daily basis. Makes getting through the day a lot easier.
I make it through a week and a half without gazing Nara’s way. The only reason I’m able to manage this feat is because I’ve dreamed about her almost every night. Long, vivid dreams. It’s like I finally did something right and the cosmos has rewarded me. I might not be part of Nara’s real world, but at least she stars in my dream one. I tune out everything and everyone at school, even the lectures so I don’t break whatever magic spell has happened. I’m even able to mostly tune out Gravely Voice when he shows up. I only cave a couple of times when I purposefully pass close to Nara in the hall, but I make sure never to look in her direction.
Eventually, I reach my breaking point. Dreams are like eating air and we all need sustenance to survive. The more I see Nara in my dreams, the more it makes me question why I can’t try to get to know her. I haven’t had any more crazy instances in my life. Daytime is mostly manageable now.
Ethan, YA Paranormal Romance Page 6
