My mother lays into me when I get back to the hive to grab breakfast before school. “Where haveyoubeen? Just because you’re almost ready to fledge the nest doesn’t mean you can stay out all night without telling me where you are. I was so worried I almost took a flight over the forest until your father convinced me you were probably just running off some steam.”
“I know. Sorry, Mom.” I nuzzle her cheek apologetically, and she huffs, a puff of indignant smoke perfuming the air. I can’t tell her I was watching a human. She’d make sure I had hive chores for a month to keep me out of trouble.
“We’re roasting a boar tonight,” she continued. “You better be here to help.”
“Okay!” I stuff a couple hardboiled emu eggs down the hatch and grab some fruit to take with me. “See you after school!”
“At least polish your horns before you—you know what? Never mind. Your life, live it your way.” My mom sighs and waves me out the door.
The second I’m out of sight of the hive, I veer south, jogging along the bike path until I can cut through the woods toward Cari’s house. I just want to check on her. Make sure her bum of a dad isn’t yelling at her.
Don’t be a creep, Gabe’s voice echoes between my ears.
I’m not. I’ll watch her leave for school, and then I’ll go to mine.
But I don’t.
Sure, I watch her tie up her puppy in the yard and swing her light-blue backpack onto one shoulder. I see her climb into her dad’s pickup truck and put on lip gloss in the visor mirror as he pulls out. He doesn’t yell at her or anything. She’s fine.
But Radar isn’t. As soon as the truck is gone and her scent gets diluted in the morning breeze, he puts his pointy little nose in the air and starts crying for her. It’s the most heartbreaking sound I’ve ever heard. So I sneak through the fence and cuddle him for a while, sitting cross-legged by the house with my back up against the foundation until he stops howling.
“I know, buddy. I wish she was here, too. She’ll be back soon, though. You just have to be patient.” I pat him on the head and stand to go. Immediately, he whines the saddest little whine.
I sigh. I can’t leave him like this. I’m already late for school by now, so what’s another hour? I find a stick and play tug with him until he’s tired and falls asleep on my lap. Every time I try and move him, he cries in his sleep.
Guess I’m stuck here until Cari gets home, chained to the doghouse just like Radar.
“What are you doing here?”
I wake up to her unforgettable blue eyes staring down at me. I must have fallen asleep with Radar. He’s already awake and racing in circles around her ankles, winding the lead around her as he yips and jumps.
“Told you she’d be back, buddy.” A yawn takes over my grin.
I push myself up to standing, and those blue eyes widen as they take in my full height. Cari takes a startled step back, and then another. The dog lead tightens around her ankles, hobbling her, and she tips sideways. Her arms windmill like a cartoon character as she starts to fall.
I catch her just before she hits the ground. It knocks the breath out of her, but she’s fine. Radar’s fine, too, still bouncing around. Cari stares up at me, her chest rising and falling, feeling so right in my arms.
“Wow. Second time in twenty-four hours you’ve been in the right place at the right time to save me.”
“Lucky me.” My feral form flexes and preens, begging to be let out. I can feel my muscles start to swell, testing the seams of my clothing. It wants to impress her, but I have a feeling she won’t be impressed by the monster she just met yesterday stripping down in front of her. If she thinks I’m big now, she’d pass out if she saw my other form.
I carefully set her upright, avoiding eye contact as I kneel to untangle her feet from the lead. It’s pulled so tight, I can’t get it off over her sneakers. “Um, is it okay if I take off your shoes?”
“Sure!” she says, her cheeks flushed. “Sorry if they smell.”
If they smell anything like the rest of her, I won’t mind. I slip the light-blue Converse off her heels one at a time, guiding her bare feet through the loops of the leash to free them. Her feet are so small compared to mine. Like little treasures in my palm. I hate to let them go.
If I gave into my instincts, I’d take a deep breath to memorize their scent. And if she let me, I’d lick between her toes. But humans would definitely think that was weird.
Don’t be a creep. Don’t be a creep.
I relinquish her foot, hand her the sneakers, and stand up. “All done.”
When I can finally bring myself to look at her face, she’s biting her lip, flushed and embarrassed. Her tiny toes scrunch in the grass.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she reminds me. “Why are you here?”
“Oh, um. I was just walking by on my way to school,” I fib. “I heard Radar crying, so I stopped to pet him and lost track of time.” Hopefully she doesn’t remember that South Lincoln High School is on the other side of town.
