“Come on back, Nara.” Sally stood by the door that led to the back rooms. She’d quickly pulled her blonde, out-of-control curls into a ponytail, which looked like someone had glued an oversized craft fuzzy ball to the back of her head. Smiling, I scratched Roscoe behind the ears and straightened. “I can stay until six-thirty. Put me wherever I’ll be the most helpful.”
As we walked down the hall, past the clinic doors, Sally filled me in. “With the help of local vets, we’re doing a big drive this week. Free first round shots! The traffic has been unbelievable, so we need more handlers to work with the influx of lookers. If the pattern holds, they’ll be rolling in soon. Most schools are out now.”
“I can see why free vaccinations would be a huge draw,” I said, shrugging out of my jacket to hang it in a side closet. An animal smell broke through the filtered air and the brief whiff reminded me of the past summer. Even with the random pungent scents, I missed this place. Working here as a volunteer was pure pleasure, whereas my paid summer job at the Pet Food Warehouse next door felt more like work.
Sally opened the door to the kenneled area. The smells were stronger here, but I knew from personal experience the animals were walked and the cages were cleaned often. “We’ve had more traffic this week then in the last three months combined.”
“Wow. That’s fantastic.” I shut the door behind us and the dogs were already throwing themselves against the kennels, barking and wagging their tails in excitement. My heart lurched for them. I waved and called over the din, “Okay, little sweeties, let’s find you some owners today.”
***
I’d stayed until seven, because there were so many people wanting to see puppies and kittens. I wanted all the animals to have a chance. Multicolored cat and dog fur clung to my shirt, thanks to the crappy dryer sheets Mom had bought. Generic brands. Pfft! My face hurt from smiling so much, but I lingered, doing my routine final walk by each of the cages. Each animal received a nose pat, an ear scratch and the encouraging words, “Next time it’s your turn.”
I’d helped six families adopt today. A record for me. And even better, three of those adoptions were older pets that had been at the shelter for at least six months.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I said to a black ten-month old pup with white socks on three paws.
He panted, his tongue hanging out. Excitement filled his brown eyes as he shoved his nose through the cage, nudging it under my fingers. The unconditional love twisted my chest tight. This was why I loved this place.
The side door that led to the bathing area swept open and a guy backed through, carrying a freshly-washed Retriever mix in his arms. I held the door for him and when he mumbled, “Thanks,” I blinked in surprise.
“Ethan?”
“Hey, Nara.” Setting the dog down, he leaned over and opened a bottom cage. “In you go.” Shutting the cage behind the dog, Ethan brushed dog hair off his damp black t-shirt. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here. Well, technically, I work at the Pet Food Warehouse and volunteer here in the summer, but they asked me to fill in today while they’re doing their big drive. How long have you been volunteering?” I can’t believe we seem to keep crossing paths.
Ethan pushed his hands through his hair, making the disheveled mass even messier. Who’d have thought mussed hair would look so good on someone.
“I’ve been here a few weeks. I saw a flyer at school and thought it might be interesting—”
“Ethan—” Sally came through the main door being pulled by a huge brown dog. Mud coated his snout, paws and bushy tail. “This one just came in. I swear we’re a revolving door some days.” The dog jerked to the left, barking at one of the dogs in a cage. She tugged on the leash, but he only shifted to the other side and snarled at another cage. “I know you’ve been in the back the entire shift, but this guy’s too high strung for Emily to bathe. Can you take care of getting him cleaned up before you leave?”
Ethan grabbed the dog’s collar, pulled him close and spoke in a forceful tone near his ear, “Settle, boy.” The dog’s brown eyes snapped to Ethan and he instantly quieted.
Sally smiled and handed the leash over. “I really appreciate it.”
“No worries.” Ethan looked at me. “Guess I’ve got another customer. See you tomorrow, Nara.”
“Bye,” I called after him.
After he’d walked through the swinging door, Sally patted my shoulder. “Thanks so much for all your help, Nara. It always makes me misty when we can find the older ones a home.”
“You’re welcome. I had a blast.” I’d been so busy with the animals, I didn’t think about my dreamless situation. Eyeing the swinging door, I said, “That was awesome what Ethan just did. Mr. Jackson was the only person I knew who could calm an animal without knowing it beforehand.”
“Yeah, Old Jack’s retirement made us all sad.” A look of wistfulness crossed Sally’s face, then faded with her chuckle. “The day he walked in, Ethan told us straight up, ‘I don’t want to deal with people. I just want to work with the animals.’ He doesn’t say much, but he’s amazing with the animals. We’re going to offer him a trainer position as soon as he’s legally eligible for employment.”
“Really?” That was a big deal. I didn’t know a single trainer under twenty-one. I peered through the glass rectangle in the door, wondering why Ethan was such a loner. He didn’t seem to want to interact with the people around him, yet he’d taken the time to talk to me, not just at school, but here, too. The realization made me feel both sad and a bit special. Well, so long as he didn’t think of me like a pet.
***
My weekend passed sans dreams, and even my mom had noticed something wasn’t right while we were out shopping the fall sales.
“Inara?” Mom asked, lowering a blue sweater I’d normally be oohing and aahhing over back to the display table.
“Huh?” I moved a sweater to the other side of the table.
“What’s wrong?” She eyed the clothes with bemusement. “Want to organize the pantry when we get home?”
I glanced at the sweaters. I’d rearranged them in color-wheel order instead of the random selection the sales people had used. I had no idea why. “I…um, no.”
Concern furrowed her brow. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but Mr. Dixon mentioned you needing the extra two points of credit you received for bringing a parent on top of the five points you received for attending the international dinner. You’ve never needed extra credit before. Is that why I was the only parent there? I thought you loved languages. What’s going on with your grades?”
“You seemed to have a good time,” I said. She and Mr. Dixon had talked for at least ten minutes.
Mom raised an eyebrow. She was waiting for me to fess up.
Note to self: Next time, wait until you’re no longer in the teacher’s class before trying to set up a “meet” with your Mom. Sighing, I said, “I screwed up my last test.”
“That’s not like you to do poorly, Inara. And normally you love shopping with me, but these past couple of weeks you’ve seemed so…distracted. What’s going on?”
I felt like a specimen under a microscope. I jammed my hands deep into my jacket pockets. “I forgot to study, that’s all.”
“Are you feeling okay?” She reached over to feel my forehead.
I pulled away. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
Folding the sweater with quick, efficient movements, Mom put it back on the table. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat. You’ll feel better soon, then we’ll check out that Latin compilation you asked for at the book store.”
Mom supported my independent study of Latin, because she believed that I wanted to be a doctor. She’d be surprised to learn it was Gran’s sassy comment about her neighbor in apartment 304—“That woman’s handwriting is atrocious. It’s like reading Latin. I have to guess half the words.”—that gave me the idea to check out Latin.
As I followed my mom out of the store, I could’ve p
redicted her reaction to my out-of-sorts behavior without the benefit of my dreams. Mom might be an executive and boss to hundreds of people, but she’d never let go of her nurturing Southern ways. If you were hurt or feeling bad, she’d feed you—well, pay someone else to feed you. She believed food was the answer to every ailment.
But not knowing what was coming with my mom versus walking around constantly blind at school, were two entirely different scenarios. People at school could be so mean and cliquey, turning on you so fast you’re left fluttering in the wind. I didn’t think it could get any worse.
I’d forgotten about Murphy’s Law.
***
Monday had blown by in a hurtful blur after I’d overheard Miranda, Sophia, Lainey and several of my other teammates talking about how much fun they’d had at Jared’s party the past Friday night. Lainey and I had been to a couple parties at Jared’s before, as friends of friends who’d been invited. Apparently this past Friday, most of my soccer team had gone, yet no one had invited me. I guess that meant that I’d been demoted to the “Do Not Invite” list.
That night, I’d finally dreamed again, but instead of being relieved, I walked into school Tuesday morning anxious and on-edge. The whole “on again, off again” stuff with my dreams made me feel like a faulty, flickering light bulb. I kept expecting my head to make a sizzling pop right before my dreams died out completely.
Tension built inside me all day. By the time I reached study hall and then had to pass by Lainey, Miranda and Sophia chatting away at a table, my nerves were shot. I sat at a table alone and stared at my Trig book, while unshed tears blurred my vision. I wanted to go home, to wish away my responsibility of the rest of the day. I didn’t want to go to practice and that depressed me even more. Sighing, I closed my eyes, thankful I only had a couple more classes to go.
“You sleeping, Nara?”
I truly loved Ethan’s voice. My friendship with Ethan—our study partnership, at least—was the only one that hadn’t faltered. I knew for certain our camaraderie wasn’t based on my dreams, because he hadn’t shown up in the few dreams I’d had so far. I still didn’t understand why that was the case, but like a kid clutching her first piece of candy, I wasn’t letting go of our friendship.
“Hey,” I said softly with a brief smile.
The crinkles around the edges of Ethan’s deep blue eyes smoothed out, along with his faint smile. He touched his thumb to my chin and sat down beside me. “What’s wrong?”
The look of concern on his face and the way he touched me made my heart twist. Someone cared. Ethan cared. But I wasn’t ready to share. I sniffed back tears. “Nothing. I’m just tired from staying up late a couple nights this weekend.”
His thumb slid along my jaw, catching the wetness. “Do you always cry when you’re tired?”
“Oh, I—” I shoved my palm across my jaw, swiping away the evidence as embarrassed heat shot up my cheeks.
Ethan’s gaze was steady and patient.
I stared at my book. “Soccer’s not going that well right now.”
“I saw the team’s loss to Westland last week. Tough break.”
“You were there?” I felt completely humiliated. “Then you know it was a slaughter, no thanks to me, but thank you for trying to make me feel better.”
“The other goalie didn’t do so hot in the last game I saw, either. There are plenty of games left in the season. You’ll rally back to your starting goalie spot.”
“At least one of us thinks so.” I smiled, despite my worries. Whenever Ethan was around, all the screaming doubts in my mind quieted to mere whispers. Sophia had done a terrible job. The team barely squeaked out a win. It should’ve been a blowout.
Loud whispers drew my attention. Lainey, Miranda and Sophia were staring at us from across the room. Scrunching my face in a light-hearted goofy look, I grabbed my book and said, “You here to study or what?”
Ethan held my gaze for a long second before he slowly opened his book. “Yeah, let’s get to it.”
***
Sixth period crept by. I had such a hard time concentrating. Between furtive glances at my watch, I tore tiny bits of paper from my notebook and stuck them to my static charged sweater. Another quick check of my watch. I needed to leave now to help a girl named Kristin.
I didn’t know the girl with dark hair, at all. But after my dream last night, I couldn’t not help her, not if there was something I could do to prevent what was going to happen in Chemistry class in less than fifteen minutes.
Brushing the clingy paper bits away from my clothes, I flagged the teacher’s attention.
He pulled his glasses down his nose. “Yes, Nara?”
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
He waved to the pass on his desk and continued droning on as if I’d never interrupted.
Grabbing the pass, I walked out of the room and turned down the hall toward the bathroom, my heart racing. I’d intended to go straight to Kristin’s class, but I ducked into the bathroom first to get my act together. I didn’t need to walk into her class hyperventilating.
Thankfully, the bathroom was empty and I rushed to the sink to splash some water on my cheeks. The coolness helped, and as I blotted my face with a scratchy brown paper towel, I met my green gaze in the mirror and blew out a breath. It won’t be the same as Sadie. Everything turned out fine after you called in the bomb threat.
A sudden chill raced along my cheek, then a pressure pushed on my right shoulder as if someone had leaned on me. I glanced over my shoulder, calling out, “Who’s there?” Swatting static-charged pieces of floating hair back down, my heart thumped with heavy beats as I scanned the bathroom. Only the sporadic plunk, plunk of water hitting the porcelain sink echoed in the room.
“I’m losing it,” I murmured, tossing the crumpled paper towel into the trash. As I turned to leave, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose. A circle of fog—as if someone had leaned close and breathed heavily—was slowly dissipating from the mirror.
I ran to the door and pulled, but it didn’t budge. Fear shuddered through me as I checked to see if I’d somehow been locked in. It wasn’t bolted. Yanking the handle with all my might, I yelled, “Let me out!”
The door suddenly swung wide, and I flew back with the force I’d applied. Catching myself, I scrambled around the door, then rushed down the hall toward Kristin’s Chemistry class. I was almost out of time.
Peeking in the door, I called to the teacher, “I’ve been asked to bring Kristin to the office.”
The dark-headed girl from my dream glanced up from her lab table, her eyes extra wide behind her safety goggles. “Me?”
“Just leave your stuff,” the teacher said.
As she slowly removed her goggles, then her gloves, it was all I could do not to scream, “Hurry up or you’ll end up with cuts and burns all over your face.” Instead, I said, “Um, I think it was kinda urgent.”
“Why didn’t they use the intercom?” her teacher asked.
I shrugged. All I cared about was getting her out of the room. Kristin had almost reached the door when a loud pop sounded and glass shattered.
“Everyone clear the room,” a stern voice ordered.
Students gathered in the hall around us, all talking at once.
“Did you see what happened?”
“I dunno. Something explod—.”
“—teacher’s freaked.”
“I think it was her experiment,” a girl pointed to Kristin’s back as Kristin spoke to me over the noise. “Did the office say what it was about?”
I shook my head and picked at my clingy sweater. The static in my hair must’ve come from my sweater. I so needed to remind Mom to get new dryer sheets. “I’ve got to get back to class. See you around.”
As I walked away, my mind kept skipping back to what happened in the bathroom. It was possible the breath on the mirror could’ve been mine, but the door had never jammed on me before. Was that just an odd coincidence?
At least I
’d made it to Kristin in time. That’s all that mattered.
***
Later that afternoon, I slipped on my tortoise shell shades and had just walked out the school’s main door, when someone called my name. “Nara, wait up.”
I paused outside the door and Lainey stepped beside me. “I wanted to talk to you,” she said as people bustled past us. Grabbing my arm, she started to tug me to the side of the building, when Kristin stopped and looked at me with suspicion. “No one from the office called me.”
“Really? That’s weird.” I blinked. “Maybe it was another Kristin.”
“There aren’t any other Kristin’s in my Chemistry class.”
“Oh, I guess I got the wrong class then.”
Rolling her eyes, she walked off, mumbling, “At least I got out of class early.”
“What was that all about?” Lainey asked, staring after Kristin.
“A misunderstanding.”
As soon as we were away from the crowd, I gripped my backpack strap tight against my shoulder and said, “That’s cool of Jared to come watch you at our games.” I hoped my tone sounded light and sincere. I didn’t want to lose Lainey.
Lainey smiled. “He wants to support me like I do him with football. Isn’t that so sweet?”
Jared spent most of the soccer game goofing off with his friends on the bleachers, but I buried my thoughts and nodded. Our friendship was more important. “I’m glad he makes you happy.”
“So, we’re okay, then?” she asked, her forehead crinkling.
“Yeah. I was just upset that you didn’t tell me. To find out about you and Jared from Sophia of all people.” I grimaced. Lainey knew Sophia wasn’t my favorite person. Sophia had been stirring cauldrons since middle school, and I somehow always ended up an ingredient in her stew.
“Sorry about that.” Glancing around, as if making sure no one was listening, Lainey continued, “I’m glad we’re okay, but I wanted to talk to you about something else.”
Relieved we were on speaking terms once more, my shoulders relaxed and I leaned against the building. “What’s up?”
Lainey tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and moved closer. “I saw you with that Ethan guy today,” she bit her lip, then plunged on, “It looks like you two are getting pretty close and—”
Dark Roses: Eight Paranormal Romance Novels Page 61