“Have you always lived in Blue Ridge?” I asked, hoping he’d share something about himself.
He pressed on the gas, moving down the street. “No, I’m originally from Chicago, then we lived in Michigan for a couple of years. This small college town took some getting used to, but I like it now.”
I nodded. “I love living in the valley with the mountains all around us. I also like that it only takes twenty minutes to get from one side of town to the other, but yeah, I wish we had midnight movies and a big shopping mall. Those are definite downsides in Blue Ridge. What made you decide to move here?”
Flicking on his blinker, he turned out of my neighborhood. “My brother asked if I wanted to live with him.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “So I moved.”
What would that be like, not living with a parent? “How much older is your brother?”
“Samson’s five years older.”
“Samson’s an unusual name, too.” I smiled and wondered if the brothers looked anything alike.
“Yeah, he’s the strong one.”
Even though his comment carried an ironic, self-deprecating edge, it also held affection. He and his brother must be close. But it seemed strange his parents let him move in with a sibling only a few years older. We’d entered the school’s parking lot, and I was a little disappointed the trip was so short. I was finally getting to know a little about him. “So, you didn’t like Michigan?”
A guarded look shuttered his face. “My parents like it. Samson thought I could use a change of scenery for my last few years of school.”
Samson thought. Not, my parents thought. It was as if his parents didn’t have any say-so in his life. Or, my heart sank at the other possibility…they didn’t care. Mom might keep me at arm’s-length, but I couldn’t imagine both my parents completely ditching me. “Now that you’re here, do you plan to go to college in Virginia?”
He slid to a hard stop, his hood facing my car. “Do I look like the college type?”
Wary blue eyes cut into me. He definitely had an edgy vibe, not to mention the rumors about him. Getting expelled from school never looked good on a college application, yet he’d been smarter than me when we studied for Trig. I shrugged and gave a half smile. “I dunno. What does a college kid look like these days?”
Ethan’s expression shuttered as he grabbed the cables from my hands. “Not like me.”
Chapter Five
As the dreamless days continued, things went from bad to worse. During the game against Westland, our biggest rivals, my goalkeeping went beyond epic fail. I’d never let so many balls zoom past, nor had I acquired as many bruises from trying so hard to stop them. Needless to say, my incredibly competitive Coach (though he’d deny it if you said so) was the silent kind of livid and none of my teammates spoke to me. We’d just lost our season’s winning streak. And it was completely my fault.
When the game was over, Miranda walked up to Coach. “I think now’s as good a time as any. I’d like to recommend Sophia start training as goalie tomorrow.” Glancing my way, she continued, “We can’t possibly do any worse.”
Coach patted her shoulder and mumbled something about being Captain and sportsmanship before he lumbered over to me. Resting his crossed arms over a middle-aged paunch, his bushy gray eyebrows drew together in concern. “Hey, Nara. You’ve had a rough couple of games. I think Miranda’s suggestion to train Sophia makes sense. You’ve obviously been under some pressure the past few days. You and Sophia can switch out to give her more training and that’ll give you more time to practice on the field too.”
“I understand, Coach.” I tried my best to keep from showing how upset I was, but I doubt it worked. I felt defeated.
Miranda waited until Coach was out of hearing range. “What is your deal, Nara? Coach’s trying to save your feelings, but I’ll tell you straight up. Now that you won’t be playing goalie exclusively, you’d better pull your weight on the field or I’ll make sure you ride the bench full time.”
“You’re not the coach,” I shot back.
“I can make it happen!” Glaring at me, she stomped off to the parking lot, where she stopped to announce something to several of our teammates as they changed out of their soccer gear near their cars. The girls kept glancing my way, then chatting with her. The entire scenario made my stomach knot.
Now this? On top of my troubles with Lainey? I’d felt Lainey pulling away, even though I’d tried to ignore it. I blamed myself partially, since I’d kept to myself the past few days and then didn’t respond during her lame attempt at a pep talk right after the game was over. It’s not like I could’ve gotten a word in edgewise with Jared hovering in the background, saying, “Come on, Lane. We’ve gotta go,” every two seconds. I didn’t think Lainey really wanted to talk to me anyway. She certainly didn’t wave Jared away. Instead, she’d shrugged, then took off with him.
So far I’d stumbled through three consecutive days of not knowing what was coming. Three! Grades and soccer were suffering and now my relationships were, too. I was like that wooden tower game, suddenly minus the key piece. Had every aspect of my life, even down to my friendships, been held together by a wedge piece with the words “Nara’s sight” etched into it? It stung too much to even consider the possibility.
My gift had never helped improve my relationship with my mom, but now that I’d lost my ability to see ahead, everything else I could depend on felt like it was falling apart. Leaning against the goalpost, I sniffed back tears, wishing…
I wasn’t really sure what to wish for, my dreams to return or to never dream about my future again.
A week later, as soon as school let out, I headed over to the Central Virginia Animal Shelter. Volunteering at CVAS was a welcome change. Lately my life had been nothing but practice and studying. Rinse. Repeat. I’d had one dream all week, where nothing interesting happened, except a thin girl walking around the halls with a back brace. I’d only noticed because the crowds spread like the red sea the first day she came to school in the odd contraption.
When I walked in the main door, Sally put both feet down, stopping her office roller chair from being hauled around the lobby area by CVAS’s mascot, a lab mix, named Roscoe. “Hey, Nara. Thanks for coming. I’m so glad you could fill in at the last minute.”
“We didn’t have a soccer game this week, which gave me a free day. I’m glad you called.” Hearing my voice, Roscoe abandoned his rope tug-of-war game with Sally. As his hundred and twenty pounds of pent-up, wiggly excitement bounded toward me, I braced for impact. Instead of jumping up, Roscoe stopped a foot away and slammed his rear to the ground, panting expectantly. I squatted and gave him a big hug. “Look at you! All manners now, huh boy? Did you miss me?” A thick wet tongue slobbered up the side of my face. I snickered and rubbed my nose in his thick brown fur. “Okay, maybe not all manners. I missed you too.”
“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 w
ere 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 predicted 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.
Brightest Kind of Darkness Page 5