Daniel shook his head as he watched the cat's black-tipped tail disappear. "Haven't I told you not to play with the big kitties, Maya?"
"It was Marv."
"Again? What's that, the third time this month? I think he likes you."
"What can I say? I'm serious catnip."
The woman lowered herself to the ground. She was maybe in her early twenties. Asian. Dressed in the kind of "rugged outdoor gear" you can buy at malls in Vancouver and really shouldn't wear any place wilder than that.
She stared at us. "The cat. It just ... left."
"Um, yeah," I said. "Most times, they do. That's a male, meaning he doesn't have any cubs to protect. Plus there's plenty of food around. I'd still suggest you return the favor and steer clear of the park today."
I walked to the front gate, opened the pamphlet box, took out the one titled "Predator Safety," and handed it to her. Then I pulled my cell phone from my backpack.
"I've gotta call this in," I said. "My dad's the warden. All cougar encounters--"
The woman backed away from me. "I don't have time."
"That cat's been hanging around. It's a problem. You need to report--"
"I will. Later."
She headed for the road and continued toward town.
"Walk in the middle," I called after her. "Cats don't like open areas."
She jogged off. Daniel hadn't said a word, which was weird. Normally he'd be the first person giving warnings and making sure she was safe. But he just stood there, staring after her, a strange look on his face.
"Yep, she's kinda cute," I said. "That'd be a whole different type of cougar, but I say go for it."
Now I got a look. Then he turned to stare after the woman, frowning.
"You know her?" I asked.
"I don't think so. Just ... something's wrong with her."
"Um, yeah. She climbed a tree to escape a cat. She's suffering from a serious case of stupid."
"No kidding." He gave her one last look, then waved me to the truck. "Just do me a favor, okay? If you see her again, be careful."
I didn't ask what he meant. Daniel does that sometimes--he meets people and just decides he doesn't like them. Last winter, when Dr. Davidoff and his team flew in from the States for their annual visit, Daniel decided he really didn't like a new guy Dr. Davidoff brought and wouldn't have anything to do with him.
Mom says that's part of growing up in such a small town. You don't trust strangers. But I say it's just Daniel. Everyone has his quirks, and this is Daniel's. Most times, though, he's right. So when he says steer clear, I do.
He opened the passenger door for me.
"Such a gentleman," I said.
"No, it's sticking, and I don't want you whaling on it again and--" He stopped and peered off down the road.
I followed his gaze. The road was empty.
"Where'd she--? Damn it!" I tossed my bag in, then strode back along the truck. "If she went back in the woods, after getting treed by a cat--"
Daniel caught my arm. "Don't."
I looked up at him. He stared down the road, his face rigid, gaze distant, fingers tightening around my arm.
"Um, Daniel? Ouch."
"Huh?" He noticed what he was doing and let go. "Sorry. Call your dad and tell him. If she went back into the forest, that's her problem. We're late already."
TWO
I CALLED MY DAD on the way to school and told him about the hiker and Marv. Like Daniel said, this was the third time I'd seen the old cat in the past month. For me, that was only a little odd. I saw cougars more than anyone else we knew. Maybe they sensed I was interested in them. Always had been. Of all the animals in the forest, they were my favorite.
But a cougar that isn't afraid to get up close and personal with a human is worrisome. Treeing that hiker proved Marv wasn't only taking an interest in me. So I told Dad and he, in turn, had to notify the police chief and the mayor. When I was called to the office after first period, I wasn't surprised to hear that all three of them were there, looking for a full report.
The meeting room wasn't far from my class. Nothing is far in our school. It's a single story divided in two wings--classrooms at one end, common rooms at the other, the principal's office and meeting room in the middle. There are sixty-eight kids at Salmon Creek School--and that's every grade from kindergarten to twelve.
Having fewer than seventy kids means you know everyone by name. It also means every teacher--all five of them--knows you by name and your parents by name and your pets, too.
There are more kids in the upper grades than the lower ones. When the St. Clouds built their facility, they hired staff with young families, and those kids are all teenagers now. I'm in the biggest class--the grade eleven/twelve split.
The St. Clouds give us the best of everything. That's how they lured employees into a community in the middle of nowhere--promise the best education possible for their children. Our classroom desks are all built to accommodate our laptops, which are replaced every two years. Our auditorium has theater-style seating. Our cafeteria has a chef and cloth napkins. We have a gym, but no pool or skating rink, only because the St. Clouds put those in the community center a ten-minute walk away.
It all sounds very posh. It's not really. When I say Salmon Creek is in the middle of nowhere, I mean it. We're an hour's drive from the nearest city, and half of that is on empty back roads through uninhabited forest. Since we're living so isolated, we don't feel special the way private school kids might. We aren't here because we get amazing grades or our parents are rich; the extras were just normal. By the time we reach the upper grades, we don't even take advantage of the cafeteria chef anymore--we bring our lunches and grab a picnic table outside.
I had to pass through the principal's office to get to the conference room. I waved at the secretary--Ms. Morales. Dad was waiting by the door and ushered me inside. Mayor Tillson was at the espresso machine. He's my friend Nicole's dad. If you didn't know which was the police chief and which was the mayor, you'd probably guess wrong. Chief Carling was a tiny blonde, a few inches shorter than me, dressed in slacks and a silk blouse. The mayor was a foot taller and twice as heavy, with a bulldog face. He wore jeans and a plaid shirt that strained around his waist.
When I finished telling them everything that happened that morning, Chief Carling said, "Your dad says this isn't the first encounter you've had with this particular cat."
"The park is his territory. He's shown up more often lately, though. Getting old and bold, I guess. He hasn't made any threatening moves. I think he's just curious."
"Which is not--" Dad began.
"The point, I know," I said. "The problem is that if we relocate him, another cat will move in. A younger and potentially more dangerous one. The best thing to do would be to have Dr. Hajek tranq him a couple of times, teach him that humans aren't fun to hang out with."
Mayor Tillson smiled at my dad. "The girl knows her cougars, Rick. Do you remember when you caught her throwing sticks for one?"
The mayor retold the story, as if everyone in the room hadn't heard it a million times. It'd been just after we moved to the park. Mom had come out back to find me playing fetch with a young cougar--probably Marv.
"... and Maya says, 'Don't worry, Mom. He's got blood on his fur so he just ate. He isn't hungry.' "
Chief Carling laughed, then said I was right--Marv had to be taught that humans and cougars couldn't be friends. "And the best way to do that would be to take Maya along. Make sure he gets the connection between her and the tranquilizer dart. With luck, that'll solve the problem. I agree that he doesn't seem to be a danger, but I don't like this sudden interest."
"Neither do I," Dad said.
"All right, then. We won't keep you any longer, Maya." Mayor Tillson rose. "I hear you have gym next. Wouldn't want to miss that." He paused, voice lowering a notch. "I hope we're going to see you on the track team again this spring."
"You will."
"That's our girl. We need ou
r champ."
He waved at the wall of trophies. Not all mine, obviously. But there were a lot of trophies, considering the size of our school. As in academics, in sports we get the best of everything. Top equipment. Great coaches, plus expert trainers flown in a few times a year.
We can't field a team for football or hockey, so the school concentrates on track, swimming, wrestling, and boxing. In kindergarten we're encouraged to join at least one. I dislike the water, and hate hitting anyone, but when it comes to running, jumping, and climbing, I'm in my element. I'd taken last year off the track team, though. I just didn't have the heart for it after Serena died.
I left the meeting. As I walked back through the principal's office, I nearly tripped over a guy with his chair pulled over to the door, eavesdropping.
Rafael--Rafe--Martinez. Salmon Creek's newest student. Actually, our only new student in three years. Rich parents in surrounding towns tried to get their kids into our school, but they were always turned down. Rafe wasn't a rich kid. He lived with his older sister in a nearby cabin they'd inherited from a distant relative. I guess the board figured it was the right thing to do, letting him attend our school free of charge rather than spend hours on a bus every day.
Rafe told everyone he was from Texas. That was bull. I'd dated a summer guy from Texas, and Rafe's drawl was all wrong. His last name suggested he was Latino, and he kind of looked it, but his high cheekbones and amber eyes said Native to me. He was a little taller than Daniel, lean, with black hair that hung just past the collar of his leather jacket. Worn blue jeans and low motorcycle boots completed the image: American Teen Rebel.
It was a look we didn't see a lot at our school, and the other girls loved it. Not that Rafe needed the added cachet. Considering we'd had the same guys in our class since kindergarten, Rafe's novelty factor alone would have had the girls tripping over themselves. He was the hottest ticket in town. And he knew it.
When I bumped into him, I said a polite, "Hey," and tried to get past.
"Hey, yourself."
He grinned and, in spite of myself, I felt a little flip in my stomach. Rafe wasn't gorgeous, but he had a sexy, crooked smile and eyes that looked at a girl like she was the first one he'd ever seen. When he stood close, I swore I could feel heat radiating off him. And Rafe always stood close.
As I backed up, he hooked a thumb toward the conference room. "Barnes in there?" he asked, meaning the principal.
I shook my head. "Haven't seen him. Ms. Morales was around, though."
"Yeah, I talked to her. She says I need to talk to Barnes. Late once too often this week."
That grin sparked again, like being late for school earned him a place in the bad boy hall of fame.
"No worries," I said. "You didn't miss much."
He fell into step beside me, so close his knuckles brushed mine. "I hear you had yourself a close encounter of the wild kind."
"Um-hmm."
"Morales said you've seen more mountain lions than anyone around here. Says they practically hang out on your doorstep hoping for a saucer of milk and a scratch behind the ears."
He meant cougar--mountain lion is an American term.
"I live in the park," I said. "I'm going to see a lot of wild animals."
"Still, mountain lions ... Never seen one myself." He slid a sidelong look my way. "Think you could fix that?"
Like hell, I thought, but just kept walking.
"Never been in your park either," he said. "What do you say I come over tonight? We can take a walk, look for big cats, watch the stars come out...."
I laughed. "Do lines like that ever work?"
He only smiled. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
Actually I could. Rafe didn't just flirt--he charmed girls right up to the point where they fell for him, then he changed his mind. I called him a player with attention deficit disorder. That made Daniel laugh. I didn't think it was so funny.
Would I think better of the guy if he followed through and scored with every girl he could? No, but he seemed like a cat toying with a mouse--no plans to make a meal of it, just batting it around awhile, leaving it wounded and dazed, then sauntering away.
He'd taken a run at me shortly after he arrived. When I turned him down, he'd seemed to take the hint and had backed off. Had that only been a temporary reprieve? I hoped not.
"Maya?" a soft voice called.
I glanced over to see Nicole Tillson, the mayor's daughter, at her locker. She looked from me to Rafe, concern darkening her blue eyes. I mouthed "Save me," and her pixie face lit up in a grin.
She scampered over. "Oh, thank God I found you. Did you read that chapter for history? I was halfway through when Hayley called and I never got back--" Her eyes widened as if she'd just noticed Rafe there. "Oh, hey, Rafe. Do you mind if I steal Maya's brain for a minute? I seriously need it."
She tugged my arm, pulling me away before he could answer. "Okay, so the first part was on World War II, right? I got as far as ..."
She continued babbling for another minute, then glanced over her shoulder. "Okay, he's gone."
"Thank you."
"Anytime. I know you don't like him so--" She glanced up at me. "You don't, right? I mean, I guess not, or you wouldn't have asked me to save you, but if you do ..."
"No. Hayley can have him."
"Good. So did you bring your lunch today? If you didn't, I was thinking maybe we could all pop over to the Blender. My treat. Mom finally paid me for that extra work I did at the clinic."
We stopped at her locker so she could get the book she'd come for. I had to help her with that. I'm only five foot five, but Nicole's at least four inches shorter, and the guys like to stick her books up where she can't reach them.
Nicole was on the swim team and in the choir, so she'd been more Serena's friend than mine. That changed after Serena died. We'd kind of taken on each other as replacement pals. It wasn't a great fit--we didn't really have that much in common--but it filled a gap.
THREE
I DON'T MIND SCHOOL. I'd like it a lot better if it wasn't indoors. Being inside just seems to sap my energy. It's gotten worse the last couple of years. I go home and I crash.
That worries my parents, but the doctors say it's a combination of hormones and my metabolism--I'm used to being outside and active, and being a teen only makes it worse. They gave me some vitamins, but I still need a nap most days.
When school ends, I get outside as fast as I can. Today I was waylaid by Ms. Morales, who wanted a firsthand account of my cougar encounter. When I finally escaped, I spotted Nicole with Daniel on the other side of the playground. He had an eighth-grader pinned to the grass, arm twisted behind his back.
"Bully!" I shouted.
Daniel glanced over and grinned. Then he let the kid--Travis Carling--go and got down on all fours so Travis could try the move on him. As Daniel gave instructions, Travis's brother, Corey, made suggestions that had everyone within earshot laughing. Travis and Corey were Chief Carling's sons.
Dark haired, over six feet tall, big, and burly, Corey was the school's second-best wrestler and boxer after Daniel. Also Daniel's best guy buddy. I could only imagine what he was suggesting Travis do to Daniel while he had him pinned. It was drawing a crowd. Corey always did. He was one of those guys who can talk to anyone--and talk his way out of trouble, which in Corey's case is a necessary survival skill.
If I had to pick the most popular guy at our school, it'd be a toss-up between Daniel and Corey. Daniel's the one everyone wants on his team--the steady, responsible leader. Corey's the guy everyone wants to party with.
As I headed toward them, I felt someone watching me. Rafe. When I looked over, he sauntered my way, grinning like I'd been the one caught staring.
Nicole said something to Corey, who looked in my direction. Daniel was on his feet now, coming to meet me. He veered toward Rafe, gaze on me, like he didn't see Rafe there. He cut right in front of him, so close that Rafe had to stop short. Daniel pretended not to notice.
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As Rafe stopped, Samantha--Sam--Russo walked past and shouldered him aside with a smirk. She switched it to a genuine smile as she said something to Daniel. Sam is our second newest student. Her parents died three years ago, and she'd come to live with the Tillsons, who were her second cousins or something like that. If there was any resemblance between Sam and Nicole, though, I couldn't see it.
Sam is an inch taller than me, kind of stocky, with dark spiked hair and wide-set blue eyes. She has freckles, too, and the only time I've seen her wear makeup is when Corey teased that her freckles were "cute" and she tried to cover them up.
When she first arrived in Salmon Creek, we'd all tried to make her feel welcome. Serena and I tried harder than anyone, because we thought she was cool, in a smart-mouth, big-city way. But Sam wielded her outsider status like a shield, so we'd given up.
I still liked her. She was different. She was interesting. And we got along fine, although it'd become clear that "getting along" was the best I could hope for. The only person at our school she really liked was Daniel. It wasn't a crush, though. She didn't even seem interested in him as a guy, only as a potential friend. Daniel was nice to her, but he already had his quota of female friends.
The student she liked least these days was Rafe. He'd made one halfhearted move toward her and I have no idea what she'd said or done, but he'd steered clear ever since.
"Texas boy taking another run at you?" Daniel said as Rafe veered away and continued on.
"It'll pass."
"Want me to talk to him?"
I gave him a look. If there's one problem with having the toughest guy at school as my best friend, this is it. Daniel has a protective streak a mile wide. Sometimes, when a summer guy is bugging me, it'd be great to have Daniel barrel in and handle it. But what does that say about me? Nothing I want to say.
"You want us to take care of the guy?" Corey said in a gangster voice as he walked over with Nicole. "We could do that. Lots of places to hide a body around here. Deep caves, deep ravines, deep lakes--" He stopped short, then smacked me between the shoulder blades. "So, how's the almost birthday girl? Getting ready for her big party? Sweet sixteen and never been--"
Daniel cut him off with a sputtering laugh. "Believe me, Maya's definitely been kissed."
The Gathering Page 2