Eyes of the Wolf

7
“You can’t deny it. You two were getting along very well.”

I rolled my eyes, then refixed them to the dashboard. No, I couldn’t, especially since we had now exchanged phone numbers and everything. He said he was still on the houseline, so I couldn’t text him or anything, but he would most likely be there. I couldn’t lie; I wasn’t disappointed with how my day had gone, overall.

“I so told you.”

“Told me what?” I said in my usual “go ahead and blurt” tones. She glanced at me and explained in a tone of heavy exasperation, “You like him. You can’t deny it—you’re not acting normal. And you were flirting.”

“I was not flirting!”

“Oh, yes you were. I have never heard you talk like that before. Holy crap, Maya, you sounded so different, I was doing so many double takes. I was like, ‘Is that really Maya?’ I’m dead serious—I asked myself that like a million times. Ickle Maya May…”

I rolled my eyes again, watching the sideview mirror now. She only called me “Maya May” when she felt that I had hit some sort of emotional milestone. It was made especially irritating by the fact that she was younger than me.

“…and you’re calling him tonight, right?”

“What?”

“Of course, that isif he doesn’t call you first. Which he should do, come to think of it, if he’s any kind of gentleman at all, especially ‘cause he’s sorta old-fashioned. Am I turning here?”

“Yeah, I have to take care of Jazz’s dogs.”

“Gotcha.” Chris made a left. “So anyway, he should call you tonight and you have to call me afterward, okay? I want updates…”

:o3

“Hey Dad? I’m gonna go for a run around the neighborhood, okay?”

“M’kay. Cell phone.”

Oh, I know, my brain answered as I checked to make sure the item in question was in my pocket, for the fourteenth time that night.

He called me at the beginning of my second mile. “Hello?” I answered a little breathlessly, slowing to a walk.

“Hey. What’re you up to, that’s got you all out of breath?”

“Running around the neighborhood.”

“Ah. That explains a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you don’t walk like you’re out of shape.”

“Is there a walk for the unfit?”

“Kinda. I dunno. You don’t look like you’re out of shape either.”

That was a lot easier to understand. Well, I couldn’t exactly blame the flush in my face on running, could I?

“Ummm…okay.”

He chuckled. “Okay, that was a little awkward.”

“Not really.”

Another short laugh. “If you say so. So how’s the rest of your Saturday been?”

“Fine. Took care of the neighbor’s dogs, got covered in dirt, came home, went for a run.” I shrugged. “The usual.” A smile was tugging at the corners of my mouth.

“How long have you been running?”

“I just hit a mile when you called. Been walking ever since.”

“Wow. You in track?”

“No. Have homework and animals to take care of.”

“What kind of animals?”

“Birds, fish, reptiles.” I shrugged again. “Dogs right now, but not for much longer.”

“You like dogs?”

“Oh, I love dogs. Can’t have them, though. My dad’s allergic.”

“Oh, that sucks.” Was he laughing?

“Well, what about you? Chris said you like dogs.”

“Oh yeah.” He paused. “Yeah, my family’s got a lot of dogs running around.”

“That’s cool.”

There was a silence that followed. I looked up at the sky, which was quickly dimming past twilight. The air was finally getting cool—summer without a cloud in the sky out here meant hot, hot days.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” said Niko. “You wanna go to LaserTag tomorrow with me?”

“I’ve never been.”

“Oh, it’s a ton of fun. I’m going with my sister—you can bring your family too, if you want.” He gave another chuckle and said, “Your parents might prefer coming with you anyway—I highly doubt they know me.”

“Umm…okay. I’ll ask,” I promised, feeling very odd all of a sudden at the mention of “parents.” He didn’t know about my mom. I didn’t talk about her. Chris had asked once, but had figured out quickly that conversation there didn’t go far.

“Okay. Call me back?”

“No problem.”

“Okay. ‘Bye, Maya.”

“Bye, Niko.”

Crap. I ran the rest of the way home, phone in my hand, wondering how much to tell my father.

:o3

“Dad?” I called when I opened the door. Something was sizzling in the kitchen.

“Hey! You ready to eat?” He walked out with a plate of pancakes in his hand and set it on a hot pad on the table. Despite the nerves tying knots in my innards, I couldn’t help but smile.

“You know that it’s P.M. hours, right?”

“Yes,” he said, mocking a strainedly-patient tone. “I felt like making pancakes and bacon, though, and it sounded good, so presto! Breakfast for dinner.” He gestured toward the table with a mitted hand. “Dish up!”

“Okay.” It was quiet for all of five seconds before I said tentatively, “Umm…Dad?”

“Mmmm?”

I started chewing my lip, but stopped and said, “Umm…a friend offered…I mean, a friend of mine asked if we would go to LaserTag with him and his sister.”

I listened to bacon sizzle in its pan for a space of time before he answered. “A boy?”

Breathe. “Yes.”

“Just you?”

“He said he wouldn’t mind if you came too.” That sounded negative. “He said that he knew you would probably want to come since you probably didn’t know him, and it would make you feel better—”

“Okay.” He emerged from the kitchen with the pan of bacon in his hand and set it on another mat. “Is he a friend, or a boyfriend, or...?”

“He’s a friend,” I told him. Then I hesitated—I’d never kept anything from Dad before—and said, “And I do like him.”

He thought about this, scrutinizing me as he took off his oven mitt, before saying, “Okay. I’ll drop you off. Do you know what time?”