Chapter 26 Chris
CHRIS
Shit shit shit shit shit. I got out of the car and started jogging after Larissa.
“Hey, wait!”
She was already halfway to the fence. The little deer saw her and started bleating and struggling to break free.
My heart lurched.
“It’s okay,” she said gently, approaching the fence. “I’m gonna get you out.”
“Larissa, leave it.”
“Christopher, I am not abandoning this baby here,” she said, still walking.
I looked around nervously. The distress call was going to bring its mom. The mom was going to be aggressive.
“Help me get her out,” she said, crouching.
“I really don’t think we should touch it.”
She examined the fencing while the tiny animal wriggled. “Awwwww! It has the little spots.” She pivoted to look at me. “If you do not help me, you’re going to hell.”
“I think we might already be there.”
She laughed. “STOP. Go check your car. You have to have something in there to help get her out.”
I let out a breath. Then I went to the car to see if I had nail clippers.
Ten minutes later she was holding the fawn still while I made cuts in the plastic netting a fraction of an inch at a time. The fence was up against bushes so both our heads were in the leaves.
“We’re probably going to be covered in ticks,” I grumbled.
“Well, you’re just going to have to have someone check you,” she said. “Poor little thing. I wonder how long it’s been here. She’s so tiny, she’s probably only a few days old. What if Mom doesn’t come back for her?”
“Mom coming back is what I’m worried about.”
She looked at it softly. “We should probably take it to a wildlife rehabilitation center.”
“I’m not putting this thing in my car.”
She gave me a disapproving look. “You put Woofarine in your car. He was way dirtier.”
“This is a wild animal, Larissa.”
“So is Woofarine.”
I snorted.
“It’s our responsibility as the ones with opposable thumbs to rescue animals caught in man-made death traps,” she said.
“Would you rescue a skunk?” I asked, clipping.
She thought about it. “Maybe.”
“What about a snapping turtle.”
She eyed me.
“How about a raccoon sort of frothing at the mouth—”
“Okay, stop. This isn’t any of those things. This is a defenseless baby deer.”
Right as she said defenseless, I heard it. A sound that made the hairs stand on the back of my neck. Larissa heard it too—her head jerked up.
There, on the edge of the tree line, in the soft light of the Toilet King, was a single, angry, huffing female deer.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Larissa swallowed. “She knows we’re helping her,” she said. “Just keep going.”
Not an option. I was frozen. Paralyzed with fear.
She looked at me. “Chris?”
“I can’t…”
She glanced at my shaking hand, then back up to my pale face, and she blinked at me. “Are you… are you really afraid of deer?”
“Yes, I told you,” I said.
“I thought you were kidding! Oh my God, Chris, I would have never made fun of you if I knew you were actually scared!”
I couldn’t even reply.
“Give me these,” she said, taking the clippers. “Go back to the car.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Please, it’s almost done. Just wait in the car.”
“No.”
She glanced at the mother. “Fine. We’ll be done in a second. You hold her.”
I held down the fawn while Larissa clipped in what felt like slow motion.
Beads of sweat started accumulating on my forehead.
“We’re almost there,” she said calmly. “Baby is quiet. Mom’s just watching.”
The deer huffed again, and my heart slammed into my rib cage.
“This is it,” I breathed. “I’m going to die at one o’clock in the morning next to a highway in front of a Toilet King billboard.”
“And in a shirt with Woofarine’s face on it.”
I laughed nervously, despite myself.
“Just a few more, then we can make a hole big enough to let her out,” she said. “There!”
She pulled back the plastic, I let go, and the animal was free.
It wobbled to its feet, its little tail tucked, and staggered away from us.
Larissa stood, and I got up feeling about as sturdy as the fawn we just saved.
“We did it!” She beamed.
“Great,” I managed. “Car.”
We started making our way back to my vehicle. I kept myself between her and the deer still standing rigid at the tree line. We were almost there—then it charged.
“Go!” I shouted. “Go go go!”
Larissa shrieked and bolted for the door.
I stood my ground and stomped to give Larissa a chance at getting away.
The doe pivoted and circled around to make another pass, white tail in the air.
I grabbed a handful of dirt and pebbles off the ground and threw it like useless shrapnel.
The deer jumped back a few feet, huffing.
I watch Larissa scramble into the front seat. As soon as she was safe, I made a run for it. I dove into the driver’s side and slammed the door, gasping for air.
Larissa looked over at me with a hand on her chest, wide-eyed.
We watched the baby wobble over to its mom, who nuzzled and licked it. The doe took one more evil look at us, and then they disappeared into the woods.
I collapsed against the steering wheel.
“Oh my God…” Larissa breathed, still panting. “Chris, that was—”
I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. It was one part relief and one part post-panic delirium.
She blinked at me from the passenger seat while I laughed so hard my stomach cramped. Then she started laughing too.
A half hour later we were at a twenty-four-hour diner.
“I think your girlfriend is going to be so impressed with what you’ve done here tonight,” she said, talking to me but looking at the menu.
“Which part? And what girlfriend?”
“Saving me from Bambi. Kendra Watson from third grade.”
I gave her an amused smirk.
“You were very brave,” she said. “You saved a baby deer and you’ve beaten the final deer boss.”
“You know, all we’ve done tonight is strengthen their numbers.”
She rolled her eyes. “If anything, this whole adventure discredits your deer theory,” she said.
I looked at her. “And how is that?”
She shrugged. “If they’re as smart and cunning as you say, why did they need us to get that fawn out of the fence?” she asked innocently.
“Unless it was a trap meant to lure us to our deaths,” I said. “And you ran right in.”
She gave me a playful gasp and I smiled.
The server came over and poured us coffee. Larissa still had leaves in her hair. Her flower clip was hanging by a few strands. The woman ignored that and the dog face on our clothes. “I’ll give you a minute,” she said, her tone bored, and she left.
I went back to the menu. “It was pretty cute,” I said under my breath.
Larissa lowered the corner of her menu. “I’m sorry, what?”
I raised my eyes to hers. “The baby deer was cute.”
She grinned. “And the mama deer was terrifying.”
“So you admit it.”
“I admit it. Deer are terrifying.”
I smiled at her.
“We need to stop having wildlife encounters,” she said.
“Woofarine would have chased that deer off.”
“Woofarine definitely would have chased that deer off. He would have come back dragging one of its body parts. Or as their leader.”
I grinned at the menu.
“I won’t tell Mike,” she said.
My eyes shot up. I immediately went to the semi-confession I’d made earlier in the car.
“That you’re scared of deer,” she said. “I don’t want him to make fun of you.”
I relaxed again.
I should have never said that. The part about me thinking she was pretty and the part about me wanting to drive her home that day. Why the heck did I mention it?
She thought I was a good person.
I wasn’t. Or maybe I was a good person who wanted something bad. Because I did.
I liked her in a way I shouldn’t. I don’t know at what point tonight I realized it—or came to terms with it—but I had.
I would never act on it. Ever. Nobody would ever know but me. I’d deal with it and hopefully with time, the feeling would go away.
Hopefully.
We ordered. We ate and laughed about the deer and Woofarine and then I paid and took her home.
Walked her to her door because it was almost 3:00 a.m., and I thought about how she looked like an angel when the soft light of the porch lamp lit her beautiful face before she went inside.
How the absence of her in the car felt like a void on the way home, how her perfume lingered where she’d sat.
I had the strongest urge to text her good night. Make plans with her tomorrow.
I didn’t. I lay in bed instead, staring at the ceiling.
Tonight was by far the best date I’d ever been on. Every time I spent time alone with her, it was the best date I’d ever been on.
But this wasn’t a date. She could never be a date.
This was my best friend’s girlfriend.