Chapter Twenty-Three. When Developing a Crush
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
WHEN DEVELOPING A CRUSH
FARREN
I have a big problem. I think I actually, truly, like James. As in, a crush, attraction. Two things I thought I was broken for never feeling before. Well, now I’m like a broken dam, a flood of emotions anytime he’s near.
For the next two weeks, James and I study together and spend our time with dragons. We soak in the sun with Skidders, feed the Rhinoridges, fly Hort and the other Sprinters. But mostly we live in the cave with Nity and her babies whenever we can. And every moment it grows harder to not like him.
I’m realizing I only hated what I thought James represented.
I hated how quiet and uninterested he always seemed.
I read it as uncaring, as a bystander to the brutality of how our society treats dragons.
Yet, he isn’t uncaring in the slightest. I’ve seen it in the way he spread his arms in the barn, worried Hort didn’t have enough room.
I’ve felt it in the way he covered my ears when Hendrix was descaled.
I’ve heard it in the way he whispers sweet words of affirmation to Nity’s hatchlings when he thinks no one’s paying attention.
It’s like once I noticed what a good person he is, my eyes refocused and I could see how attractive he really is. I mean, yes, the hair, the shoulders, the dimples. It all works. But now, it all works for me.
I’m not the only one with a crush though.
Oria has only grown fonder of James, currently curled in his arms like a baby.
Nity naps in the corner, tired from producing gold for her hatchlings.
There are patches in her metal coat now, always shedding to keep an ample supply of gold.
Hort pounces on puddles by the entrance of the cave with Zilar and Electrum in tow.
We introduced him to the hatchlings to help with socialization and he quickly became big brother and bad influence.
It’s so adorably ridiculous, especially as Hort splashes Zilar in the face and the baby ruffles his blue scales in dismay.
“They’re so—” I turn to James and catch him kissing Oria’s forehead.
My words stall and my lungs hitch. Before I can stop myself, I imagine that’s my forehead.
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be a dragon more.
Then I fantasize his lips drift lower and I replay when I gave him mouth-to-mouth after his fall.
I mean, I know something is wrong with me, because that’s sick.
I let my head fall into my hands and try to will away the blush from my cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” James asks.
I keep telling myself I’m envious that Oria seems so infatuated with James, and only James, but deep down I know the truth. “I’m jealous,” I admit meekly.
He laughs before shifting toward me.
I look up just as James extends the cradled Oria. His face is close, way too close. He asks me something, but I’m too busy relearning how to breathe to hear.
“What?” I whisper.
“Want her?”
Want. I want …
Electrum chooses that moment to jump on James’s legs and wake up Oria. Zilar pops in between us and it becomes a climb-all-over-James game.
I’ve cracked. That’s the only thing that can explain this feverish desire to join them toppling James to the ground. When the boys can’t displace Oria from James’s chest, they run to me. Electrum hops across my lap like a game of leapfrog.
“I’m like leftovers to them. They are settling for me,” I complain.
James stares up from the ground and laughs. “I’ve tried to convince you how likeable I am. Glad you are starting to figure it out.”
He has no idea. I turn away as if in exasperation, but really, it’s to conceal my blush again. I think in the last two weeks I’ve discovered what bashfulness feels like and I’m not a fan.
“Maybe we should train them,” James suggests. “They have so much energy.”
Yes. A distraction. For them and for me. “Hide-and-seek?”
Another dimpled smile greets me. “Hide-and-seek.”
It started as a game and has ended up our best defensive strategy to safeguard the hatchlings. I yip and point to the back of the cave and the dragons bound toward the small tunnels there. The three burrow in the nooks and crannies of the cavern and conceal themselves.
James and I then stalk the back wall. They are meant to stay hidden until we whistle.
One sharp signal and they pop out for us to try to grab them, and they are supposed to evade us.
Three whistles and the game ends. James whistles once and three heads emerge.
I sprint to snatch Electrum and he shuffles backward into the darkness with a chortle.
A few minutes later Oria peeks out and I chide her appearing before the whistle. She scurries away with a mischievous little shuffle. They’re still learning, testing us like toddlers.
On the next signal I go right, and James goes left.
We bump into each other hard, and of course I’m the one thrown sideways.
James hooks an arm around my shoulders so I don’t fall.
In one easy motion he rights me, and just like that the contact is over.
“Sorry,” he says as he lunges for the hatchlings and all three scuttle away.
“No problem,” I whisper. But of course, I’m having problems. I roll my shoulders like that can get rid of the heat of him being so near, or the memory of the firm grip of his hands.
We play for more than an hour. Nity watches on baffled, but she doesn’t interfere.
When we’re both practically panting, we relent and James whistles three times.
The babies emerge and run to munch on gold.
I collapse on the cavern floor heaving. I’m surprised and all too aware when James joins me, also winded.
“They are getting good,” I note.
“Too good,” James concedes. “These games might be the most exhausting workout I’ve ever had. And yet, I think I’ve lost my abs.” He rests a hand on his stomach.
I swear if he takes off his shirt, I’m going to lose it. “How disappointing for your fans.”
“What fans?”
“You know you have fans.”
“And they only care about my abs?” His question feels loaded with something other than banter.
“Fickle fans.” I clear my throat and turn to the stalactites above when I realize our eyes have locked for a little too long. “I’m sure your abs are intact. Though, this can’t be harder than your riding training.”
He blows out a breath and laughs. “It’s not, but parenting dragons is rough. Right, Nity?”
Nity snorts in agreement and James laughs even harder.
I bend toward him like a sunflower seeking light. “You laugh so much nowadays.”
Unfortunately, my statement sobers the sound. He seems embarrassed and I hate that I even brought it up and made his smile disappear. “Well, I like it here.” He glances at me. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. I’m glad…” He’s with me, he’s happy, he’s by my side. “… you interned here this summer,” I finish.
“Really?” He fully turns to me. It’s like I’m basking in sunshine. “I’d like that in writing.”
“Fine, but it’s not getting notarized or anything, so it’s still deniable.”
He chuckles. “Sometimes you are so odd, Walsh.”
My insides churn. I don’t want to be odd. I want … I want to be anything but odd. “Bad odd?”
He sits up. “No, not bad odd. Good odd.”
“Good odd? There is such a thing?”
A quizzical expression crosses his face. “Yes, of course. Farren, you…” James opens his mouth to say more, but no words come. He looks away as if embarrassed and catches something over my shoulder. “Hort!” he yells.
I jolt, thinking the worst—an injury, an accident, one of the hatchlings hurt. Over by the babies, Hort is—I peer closer—eating gold. James whistles a signal that means “come,” but Hort keeps munching.
“Hort,” I reprimand. Nity raises her head to inspect why we are making such a fuss and I go cold. If Nity were to get mad, were to lash out at Hort, I’m not sure he, or any Sprinter, could survive it.
James realizes at the same time because he goes stock-still and raises his hands to Nity in deference. I focus in on the golden scale Hort holds and craft it away, the metal scraping across the cavern floor.
Nity’s eyes follow the skittering gold and then flash back to Hort. Her scales remain black at the moment. There’s still time. We both run.
I slam to a halt between Nity and Hort, right in front of James.
James tries to push his way in front of me and I stop him with a hand to his chest. Silence spreads and dread surges as the four of us wait.
Until Zilar bounds over to Hort and drops another piece of gold onto his front legs like an offering, like “Here have mine, if the mean girl is going to take yours away.”
When Hort starts chewing, Nity snorts and nestles back down.
“She doesn’t care?” James asks, shocked like me.
I drop my arms, especially the open palm I still have pressed against James. “I guess she doesn’t.”
James bends over, hands on his knees. “That scared me.”
“Me too.” I even out my breathing. We could have been in real trouble there. I’ve never crafted the gold on Nity. I’m not sure how long I could hold her, if at all. I wheel on James. “Did you really try to push me out of the way?”
James rises, a guilty look splashed across his face. “Maybe.”
“There is a reason I rushed in front of you.”
“It was a reflex.”
To protect me. A reflex to try to save me.
James turns to his dragon. “Let’s go, Hort. We’re not going to press our luck and you need a bath.”
Hort finally listens, lumbering after us. But as we reach the entrance of the cave, Hort eyes the puddles again. He reveals his intention a moment before he acts.
“Don’t you dare—” James starts.
Hort pounces on the puddle. Dirty cavern water sprays and soaks James.
I stifle a laugh as James flicks water off his hands. Even like this, he’s handsome. Drenched, but handsome. He turns to me, arms outstretched.
“Don’t you dare,” I say, stepping back. Yet, my words only seem to spur on the idea. James chases me as Hort continues to splash and soon the babies join in again, prancing around.
It’s all so childish and wonderful. Dragons don’t fully mature until ten years old, and Hort is finally acting his three-year-old self.
And maybe for the first time ever, I’m getting to be seventeen.
Not obsessing about hiding secrets, just a girl about to enter into her last year of schooling.
A girl who has a crush on a boy, who is spinning her around in a wet embrace.