2
“Dream things true”
Then
I met Romeo inAugust. I know that because my mom put a back-to-school countdown calendar on the fridge. Every night before bed, we stood in front of the fridge and crossed out the day that had passed. Most nights, Lexi and I fought about whose turn it was to use the pen. Or which pen to use. Or who was standing too close to the other. Most nights, my mom let her eyes flutter shut, took a deep breath, and tried not to look happy when she told us how many days of vacation we had left.
It had been a long, hot summer. Hotter and drier than usual for Michigan. I’d turned seven in June and Lexi was eleven. She’d started to find me annoying, through no fault of my own, and I’d started to find her boring because she’d become incredibly boring. She never wanted to play, and she spent all her time in her room, reading boring books or hanging out with her boring friends, yelling at me to leave her alone.
“Come on, you,” said my mom, taking me firmly by the shoulder. “You need to get out of the house. Fresh air, that’s what you need. We’ll see you in a bit, Lex,” she called upstairs. “I’m taking Jude to the park.”
“Ugh, but the park’sboring, and I wasn’t even in Lexi’s room. I didn’t do anything. I just put myonefoot in a tiny bit. Just my toes. The rest of me was in the hallway.”
“He’stryingto be annoying!” bellowed Lexi from upstairs.
“I’m not trying to be annoying. She’s trying to be annoying,” I grumbled as my mom marched me out of the house.
There was a woman at the park, in the shade near the swings, when we got there. She was tall and slender with long dusty-blonde hair that fell to the small of her back in a tangle of loose waves. She was barefoot, her sandals kicked to one side, toes digging into the grass. I didn’t notice him immediately because of how her skirt flared out, but after a second, I realized a boy was hidden behind her. Upon further investigation, I saw a black dog hidden behind the boy.
“Hi,” said my mom. The boy ducked his head farther out of sight, peering out only when it became clear our mothers had struck up a robust conversation that didn’t look like it would taper off anytimesoon.
The boy had bushy, overlong hair the same color as his mother’s and wore a midnight-blue cape that hung down to his knees. His eyes were enormous. Light swirls of blue with long eyelashes that curled up and made him look wide-eyed even though, technically, his eyes were narrowed at me. He watched me warily without speaking or making any sudden movements.
“This is Romeo,” said his mom. “He’s shy. It takes him a little while to warm up, but I’m sure he’d love to play.” She turned to my mom. “We moved here a couple of weeks ago. We’ve been so busy unpacking and getting things sorted that we haven’t had time to meet anyone. Some of us have been going a little stir-crazy.”
Our moms started chatting about how lovely it would be when school started and everyone got back into a nice routine. Romeo and I continued eyeing each other uneasily.
“What’s your dog’s name?” I asked when curiosity got the better of me.
Romeo considered me, eyes tracking up and down me for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer, and then whispered, “Buddy.”
“Does Buddy want water?” I’d seen lots of kids with dogs take them down to the water fountain and offer them a drink, and I’d always thought it looked like an important,grown-up thing to do, so I pointed behind me. “There’s a fountain over there.”
Buddy’s head popped out from behind Romeo and his ears pricked at the sound of his name. He started moving as soon as Romeo did. The three of us walked to the spout in silence, Buddy glued to Romeo like a shadow. I turned the faucet on and Romeo cupped his hands together and offered Buddy some water. Buddy wagged his tail, which made me want to be part of it all. I cupped my hands together and offered him water as well, and though he paused, dipping his ears back and sniffing hesitantly before deeming me safe, he drank from my hands too.
Romeo observed silently. I could feel his gaze on my face as Buddy’s tongue lapped at my palms and water ran through my fingers onto my shoes. By the time Buddy’s thirst was quenched, my fate was decided.
I was in.
Romeo dried his hands on his cape and said, “Come on, let’s go.”
He took off toward the thicket of white oak trees near my house. He was fast. So fast I could barely keep up. As he ran, I noticed one corner of his cape was ripped.
“What happened to your cape?” I panted.
He didn’t stop. “Wolf attack.”
“Wolfattack?”
This time, he slowed and turned toward me. He glanced down at Buddy, eyes sparkling, and said, “Yeah. It was bad. For a while there, I wasn’t sure I’d make it. The lone wolf of Alabaster got me.” His cape flapped in the breeze as he turned to take off again, and that time, Buddy snapped at it, catching it between his teeth and pulling back. It hardly slowed Romeo. “To the Dark Forest!”
I followed incredulously, my interest piqued well beyond anything I’d felt all summer.
“What are we doing?” I asked when we arrived at the five straggly trees that made up the entirety of the Dark Forest.
“Foraging for food,” he said as if it were obvious.
We collected dried leaves, small stones, bark, and as many acorns as we could carry. We piled them high and made repeated trips back to the fountain, running the faucet until a mud river meandered around us. We filled our water bottles and poured the contents onto the roots of the oak trees, digging up dirt with bare hands and enthusiastic assistance from a lone wolf. We molded the dirt into rounds, called them cakes, and adorned them with acorns and leaves.
