Dragon Wings Page 10

  “So, is that how we name everything now? We play football—” He looks at the guys around him. “But it isn’t because the ball is made of foot.”

  Another round of laughing.

  Mr. Erickson leans forward, smacking his knee. “Indeed. I mean, a good number of you are from Dragoon, a small town with a very mythical-sounding name. But we don’t believe in dragons, right? So while I understand your humor, that’s not how it works.” He continues chuckling.

  I want to join in on the joke, but I have no idea what they’re talking about. Except what Mr. Erickson just said. Were the town, and mountain, and spring all named after dragons? The dragons in hiding?

  I raise my hand.

  “Yes, Alita?”

  “I know you were joking about the dragons and Dragoon’s name, but I was wondering, why is it named that?”

  One of his brows quirks up, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, his fingers stroking his jaw. “That is an excellent question. Why don’t you do some research and write up a short report on it? Consider it good for some extra credit.”

  Ugh. Once again, I should have just stayed silent.

  I’m grateful I have a free period next for more research time.

  The bell rings, sounding louder than usual. Yeah, my hearing has definitely been enhanced. There is no way these things have always been so loud. If it wasn’t so unexpected and kinda irritating, it would be really cool. Which is probably how I’ll see it later when I can test it out alone instead of having to pretend everything is fine surrounded by people who just love to make fun of me.

  I grab my bag, all my things already stuffed inside, and head for the door, unable to get out of there fast enough. I head straight for the school library, where I sign in and get on the computer in the corner so I’ll be away from prying eyes.

  The first thing I google is “Dragoon Arizona named after?” in hopes that keeping it short will bring up more results. The first link seems promising. I click on it and read over everything it says.

  The U.S. Dragoons, Civil War, fight between the Apache warriors and the Confederate soldiers. The spring was named after the 1st Cavalry Regiment.

  I skim over dates, specific details that have no bearing on what I want to know. According to this, the area was named because of that regiment that was on its way to establish Fort Buchanan. In 1856. I write that date down.

  How long have dragons been living here? Is it possible that the men in that group met the dragons? Or even the Apache warriors? What are the odds that there are dragons in the Dragoon Mountains, and the name isn’t at all related?

  I make a list of such questions to pester Yackros with later and head to my next class.

  The moment the final bell rings, I’m heading for the door. In my hurried need to get out of there, it feels like time has slowed down, and every student who could be in my way, is. Which is irritating beyond reason.

  “Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me.” I’ve probably said those two words a hundred times over and I’m not even free yet.

  I keep my head down as I march toward the door, hoping to reach the parking lot while it’s still relatively empty so I can get to the library as fast as possible and work in peace. As I pass a row of lockers, I notice a gang of boys all laughing their heads off, watching the guy in the middle leaning against the locker, which seems to be making noise.

  “Let me out!” a voice yells.

  Another round of laughter from the guys. I shake my head, tempted to sneak on by and leave it alone. The last thing I want is to become the center of attention, but I can’t walk past someone in need and not help.

  “Hey, let him out of there,” I say, probably too quietly.

  Or not. One of the guys looks at me with a deadly gleam in his eyes. “What did you say?” he asks.

  “I said let him out of there,” I repeat.

  “And why would we do that? Because you, a little nobody, said we should?” The guy, standing above me, comes a little closer.

  “Hey,” the tall blond says, pointing at me as he begins chuckling. “Aren’t you the dragon girl?”

  “Huh?” I asked, taken aback.

  “Yeah, you’re the chick who asked about dragons in history class. I’ve been seeing your name and dragons together everywhere lately. What’s that about?” He steps closer, and suddenly I feel like they’re trying to cage me in.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Which is true. I really don’t have any clue.

  “Yeah,” another one pipes up. “It’s all over the internet. The girl with the dragon obsession.” He holds up his phone for me to see. Meme after meme, each one from my schoolmates, with various degrading taglines, jokes, and lies all at my expense.

  I’m shaking, though I don’t know if it’s out of fear or rage. Maybe both. I shake my head, unable to cope with one more thing.

  Someone walks behind the wall of guys, opening the locker and freeing the kid I was trying to help in the first place. The rescuer disappears, and due to my lack of height, I don’t see who it is. But knowing the kid is free, I dash between two of the guys laughing at me and make a beeline for the door.

  Fresh air surrounding me is a sweet escape from the musty, sweaty stench of school. I make it to the sidewalk and head for my car so I can get to the library.

  I beat all the kids who come after school to “study” and the kids who actually are studying, so there’s still an empty table. I set my backpack on the desk with the single chair beside it, tucked back in the corner, away from the windows and books. I lay out my homework and force myself to walk slowly to the counter.

  The cranky woman from Saturday is the only one sitting there, glasses perched, lips pursed, and making herself look extremely busy on the computer. Unfortunately for her, I can see the reflection in her glasses, and all she’s doing is playing solitaire.

  “Hi. I don’t know if you remember me from Saturday. I was looking for books on dragons? Anyway, you gave me that little pamphlet, and I’d like to take another look at it if possible. Any chance you can show me where you got it from, or pull it out for me again? It’s the one called something like Scales in the Sea and Sky.”

  The woman quirks her brow. “What was the title again?” she asks.

  “I want to say it’s Scales of Sea and Sky.”

  She does some quick typing. “I’m sorry, nothing is coming up under that. Are you sure of the title?”

  I frown. “You handed it to me. Maybe you could look up books on dragons and mermaids?” How could it not be in the system? It was here on Saturday. And how could she not remember?

  She does some more typing. “What section did you find this in?”

  “I didn’t—I mean, I was standing in the mythology section. Over there.” I point to the left corner. “And you walked up to me and handed it to me. You’re the one who got it from somewhere.”

  “The only thing I’m finding in this search are books on fairy tales. Which are over there.” She points to the fantasy section. “Is there something else I can help you with?” Her nasally voice is infuriating. Along with her attitude.

  “Ma’am,” I say, as calmly and respectfully as I’m capable of at the moment, “you brought this book to me. Where did you get it from, and where did it go?”

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” she says, and her glasses tell me she’s returning to solitaire.

  “I’m not! Look, if you just give it to me, I’ll leave. How’s that?”

  Her lips purse. “I’m afraid I can’t help.”

  “Can you at least tell me if the author has any other books?”

  “She does not.”

  Perfect. That’s just—

  She?

  I stand there chewing my lip, drumming my fingers on the counter.

  I’m positive the author name was just an initial.

  “Okay,” I say slowly. “Okay. You are lying to me. You know exactly which book I’m talking about.”

  She raises both eyeb
rows at me over her glasses, but just then, someone calls my name.

  I turn to see Max coming my way.

  “Max? What are you doing here?”

  “I came looking for you,” he says, grinning.

  He reaches me and gives me a quick kiss.

  The old librarian frowns sternly. “Young man, this library is reserved for sober voices only.”

  “Oh, yep, my bad,” he says, lowering his volume just a bit. Before I can protest, he hooks his arm through mine and pulls me away from the counter. “I tried to catch you after school, but you were dashing between people too fast for me to catch up. What was the rush, anyway?”

  I’m not sure I want to tell him what happened. And I know I don’t want him to know what people are saying about me online. Especially because of our agreement to leave dragons out of the relationship. I try to shrug it off. To come up with an excuse.

  I don’t have one. At least not one he’ll be okay with.

  We both stand there in awkward silence because neither one knows what to say. I think about what excuse to use, how to keep the topic away from dragons, but it seems unavoidable.

  “I found a book on Saturday that I didn’t realize I needed. I wanted to get back here and check it out, but it looks like it’s gone.” I look at the floor, avoiding eye contact with him because I really don’t want to tell him it’s about dragons.

  “You never texted me back yesterday. I just wanted to make sure we were okay.”

  “We’re fine, Max. I just have to figure some things out with my life. And to study.” I shrug, trying to play it off as no big deal.

  “Cool,” he says. “I’ll study with you. Gotta keep my grades up to stay on the team.”

  The team . . .

  Come to think of it, wasn’t one of those guys at the lockers on the wrestling team with Max?

  “I have a table over here,” I say, mind spinning. I lead him over to it, extra glad now that it’s in a far corner with privacy.

  He brings over another chair, and after we’re both seated, I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t. I grab my notebook, feeling heat in my neck.

  Max wouldn’t have told his wrestling team about my “obsession” with dragons. The memes and jokes have to be a carryover from teasing I got in elementary school.

  Even though that stopped when everyone got bored.

  Even though it’s been years since any classmate has mentioned it.

  I take his hand and squeeze it. “I love you.”

  He grins and kisses my hand. “I love you too.”

  He wouldn’t have told. Even if he can’t bring himself to believe me, even if he doesn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t have talked about it to anyone else. Max isn’t like that.

  I retrieve a stack of books from the fairy tale section and throw myself into research.

  If I thought the mythology books were useless, these are even more so. They’re all about the original fairy tales like Cinderella, Snow White, Rapunzel, and so on. Not what I was looking for at all.

  I set the most recent book aside and move on.

  After two hours of this, Max starts bouncing his knee, only occasionally staring at his homework, not really working on it anymore. My head is spinning from how dark and gruesome some of the stories are, and I still haven’t found answers to anything dragon related.

  “Want to get some food?” I ask, knowing the library is getting ready to close anyway.

  Max perks up. “You know I’m always down for food.” He smiles, looking all too pleased. “Did you drive?”

  “Yeah. I can take us there.” I stand up and begin putting my books in my bag and stacking the others in two piles, one to check out and one to return to the shelves.

  “Perfect.”

  “Where do you want to eat?” I ask.

  “I’m craving tacos.”

  I can’t help a smile at that. And then a laugh.

  His eyebrow quirks up. “You too?”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  He steps up beside me, taking my hand in his, scooping up the stack of books I need to check out in his other arm.

  “Find what you were looking for?” The old librarian asks as we walk up to the counter.

  “Not quite,” I say. “But I’ll be back.”

  “Library card?” She doesn’t even look at me as I pull it out and hand it to her. “Have a good day.” She returns the card and the bag of books to me.

  Max takes the bag for me, and we walk away while I’m stuffing the card in its slot in my wallet.

  “That felt awkward. Something happen?” Max asks, getting the door for me.

  “Well, I came here on Saturday and she was upset about a book or something.” I shrug. “It’s not a big deal. I guess my questions annoyed her.”

  “I’m sorry. Nice of you to chalk it up to her having a bad day. I’d report her for how rude she was. Incredibly unprofessional.” He opens the car door for me.

  I wait for him to get in before responding. Once he’s buckled and we’re on the road, he takes my hand.

  “Anyway, it’s really not a big deal. The librarian doesn’t get in the way of my research. And I’ll just find the book online.”

  Neither of us really knows what to say after that, which is difficult to comprehend considering we’ve been friends or so long, but this new development has changed everything.

  “How’s your back?” he asks quietly.

  “The same as last night. It’s going to take time to heal. There’s nothing I can do for it but give it time. But it isn’t so tender to the touch, which is progress. I just have to keep from hitting it against anything.”

  “Given your history, I recommend a bubble-wrap suit.” Max gives me a side glance.

  “Ha ha.” I roll my eyes and head for tacos.

  After our late-afternoon snack and convincing Max that I actually need to study and no, he can’t come home with me, I go to my room and return to my reading. I don’t care about homework. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not important. Not when there’s a dragon out there counting on me to fix the wrong that’s been done and to save him.

  I lay out all the research I began a year ago and what I’ve gathered just in the past couple of days. Europe saw dragons as a beast to be defeated. A monster to overcome. Whether that was literal or metaphorical, I’m not sure, but given the knowledge I have, I’m going with literal. Except there’s the bond. How did that work?

  I grab a blank sheet of paper and draw an oval in the middle that says “dragons.” Then I draw a line away from it, and at the end of it, another oval that reads “Europe.” From that another line, an oval, and the word “monster.”

  I move the start of my flowchart to the side of the desk and pull out the next book. It’s larger than the last three combined, and all about Chinese and Asian mythology and fables.

  I’m intrigued from the very first page. Beautiful illustrations show the Chinese dragon, or at least what it’s perceived to look like. Until I meet one, I have no idea if they differ so greatly.

  Yackros is what’s known to be a European dragon—four legs, or two legs and two arms, but still walks on all fours, with two wings and horns. European styles are completely different from the Chinese dragon, which can have wings, but rarely does. Chinese dragons also commonly lack appendages such as arms or legs, but if they are there, they’re small. There’s one illustration of a Chinese dragon with what looks like chicken feet.

  A rare breed of Chinese dragons has tiny wings far too small to carry their long snake-like bodies. Even those dragons fly by the majestic nature of their magic and not by a physical attribute.

  I grab my pen again and add Chinese dragons to my flowchart, and the information I’ve gathered on them, only adding things I believe could be true and potentially relevant. I’ll ask Yackros tomorrow for confirmation and create a second flowchart depicting only the truth.

  I’m soaring high over the mountains, through the clouds, brushing my head on the tops of tre
es as we go by. I cling to Yackros as he turns and twists, yet somehow always making sure I’m safe from falling off. We are free. Not only from King Ruxsiu, but the world. Humans, other dragons. No one stands in our way. The world knows his kind exists, and it doesn’t matter.

  The alarm blares, pushing me out of my dream and back into reality, unfortunately. And forces me to get up and dressed. School seems like such a waste of time. It can’t help me in this fight. Only because Yackros told me to go, and I promised him I would, do I attend, rather than skipping out and going to the library alone to read more.

  Not that there are any books left that I haven’t already looked at regarding dragons. I glance at the flowchart sitting on my desk and stuff it into my backpack on my way out the door.

  I push the hair away from my eyes and get in my car, grateful to have one rather than needing to take the bus. That was always the worst, especially with the bus almost always running behind because of things like cheer, sports, swimming, drama, and music.

  It’s occurring to me just how much of a regular teenager’s life I’ve missed out on while hidden away in the forest, with Yackros, in a place where other humans couldn’t get into even if they wanted to, or knew it was there.

  I haven’t attended a single school dance, football game, or any other sports event. No extracurricular activities. My life has revolved around Yackros for so long, it’s like I’m lost now that I can’t be with him. The only real friend I have is Max. Even Hanna gave up on me and moved on with her new group of friends.

  Not that I blame her for that. She has every right to find new friends when the old ones stop existing in the same dimension. I think back, trying to remember the last time I actually ate lunch in the cafeteria rather than going to the school library.

  I’m not sure how I feel about this. Did I lose a part of myself when I found that hidden forest so long ago? Did I give up a life for something I can’t have? Am I truly missing anything?

  Shaking my head, I force myself out of those thoughts and keep my eyes on the road. The drive is faster than if I took the bus and far less bumpy, which is nice. I blast the radio and try not to think about anything. It’s getting too overwhelming.