Carrie Jones - Need

"Oh, nice one."

"Don't roll your eyes," Betty says, but not in an angry way. She taps her fingers on the steering wheel.

"I'm just a little worried about your relationship. It seems like you're avoiding her."

I close my eyes so I don't roll them again. "She sent me away."

"Because she was worried about you. You lost your spunk." Betty reaches over and squeezes my knee.

The skin on her hand is fragile and paper thin. "I think you're getting your spunk back."

I raise my eyebrow, just one, on purpose, to show her what I think of that. She slaps my knee and laughs. "There's talent right there. Now, get going."

She honks her horn good-bye and leaves me, off to go rescue the world for another day. I drag myself through the freezing wind into school and down the corridors, past the big wooden Eagle statue and the art students' self-portraits. I really don't want to be here, but it's better than being home alone all day thinking about the voice in the woods.

The school secretary's office door is closed but I open it and stand by the counter waiting for Mrs. Nix to turn around and notice me. She's filing and trilling out a country song about wasting time and driving in cars. I clear my throat so she'll know I'm here. It works. She turns around and smiles. "Zara!" She puts down her papers on her desk and walks to the counter. Her eyes narrow in concern as she glances at my bandage.

"Zara, are you okay?"

I nod. "I fell when I was running last night."

Mrs. Nix shakes her head and signs a late pass for me. "Well, I hope your grandmother told you to wear your coat inside out."

The pass dangles from my fingers. "What?"

She slowly meets my eyes and her mouth opens. Her words come out winter slow. "Oh. I thought Betty would have told you that."

I shake my head.

"Your mother didn't either?"

"No. Why would she?" I ask, feeling more and more confused. I know Mrs. Nix is really sweet, but she's acting a little crazy weird, like she's the one who can't believe what's going on.

"Why would she? Everybody's in denial, but it's happening again," she mumbles. Her arm knocks against the top of the counter and a box of colored paper clips tumbles to the floor and scatters all over the picture of the school's mascot drawn into the tiles.

"Such a ninny!" she says and crouches down to pick up the clips. I squat down to help her and our knees almost touch as our fingers scoop up the clips. I can't believe she said "ninny."

"It's okay."

"You are such a sweet girl, Zara, just like your mother." She stands back up. "Thank you for helping."

"Not a big deal." I tuck my hair behind my ears. It was flopping into my eyes so I couldn't see her and I really want to see her, to figure her out. "So, why do you wear your coat inside out?"

She blushes and dismisses her own words with her hand. "You wear your coat inside out when you're alone outside at night. It's an old wives' tale. A superstition. I thought everyone knew that" "Why?"

Her face grows even redder and the phone rings. She looks thrilled to hear it. She gives me a little wave and answers the phone in an overly happy way. "Hello, this is Mrs. Nix, school secretary, and how can I help you this fine day?" I take my note and leave. Maine just keeps getting stranger and stranger.

Devyn finds me after Spanish. Ian's hanging on my elbow and Devyn says, "Hey. I need to talk to Zara for a second."

"Sure," Ian says, not changing his pace.

"Alone?"

"Oh," Ian fumbles. "Right. See you later, Zara."

"Sure," I say, watching him stride away. "Poor guy."

"He's fine," Devyn says. "I've been thinking about the book. Do you have it?"

"Yeah." I juggle my books around and show him.

"Can I borrow it?"

My heart drops. "Sure, yeah…"

"I'll take care of it, Zara, I promise. I know your dad wrote in it and that makes it special."

I put the book on his lap while we move down the hall. "I'm that obvious?"

"It would be special to me if I were you," he says. "I just want to read it whenever I get a chance."

"Yeah," I say. "I've been thinking about the quote about tigers."

"And?"

"It seems important."

"I know."

Issie stomps toward us. "I am so mad at you!"

I point at myself. "Me?"

She grabs my elbow. "Yes, you.You went running alone at night.You are an idiot."

"Thanks, Is." I pull my arm away.

"He could have taken you," she whispers. She looks to Devyn for help.

"It was dumb," he agrees. "Nick told us what happened. About how the guy said your name."

I don't say anything. Issie softens, puts her arm around my waist. "We know you were just trying to be a martyr."

"I wasn't-" She interrupts, "We don't want you to be a martyr. We'll figure this out together. No one gets to be a martyr. Right, Devyn?"

He nods. "Right. At least not alone."

"Zara, this is great," Issie says, bouncing up and down between some desks. "Check out all the people here."

I look around the classroom that we get to use for our Amnesty International lunch. Nick is not here.

"There are ten people, Issie," I say, sighing. "Ten is not much. There are thousands of people who need our help."

Ian waves at me. He has a monster smile on his face, and he swaggers over like he's responsible for all ten people here, which, to be fair, he probably is.

"Ten's really good," Issie says and then points at Ian with her elbow. "Uh-oh, look who's coming."

"At least he's here," I say, putting down some pens and pre-stamped envelopes. "Unlike other people."

Something in my stomach drops when I think about Nick not being here.

"At leasthe cares," I add as Ian comes closer.

Ian smiles down at me. "Hey, Zara. Good turnout."

I glance at Issie, who gives me an Itold you so look. "It's only ten people."

"Ten is good up here. We're psyched if five people show up for Key Club," he says, nodding at my Urgent Action reports. "Can I help you pass those out?"

"Yeah." He is being so nice. "You could."

It isn't until I've explained all about Amnesty International's important mission and people start writing letters that Nick decides to show up.

Ian is already sitting next to me. So Nick stands in front of my desk.

"Nice of you to show up, Colt." Ian sneers. He suddenly looks like a snake. It is not a good look, all scaly and coiled.

Issie puts her hands over her eyes like she's afraid to see bloodshed.

I stare up at Nick. "You're late."

He smiles at me. There's a piece of spruce branch stuck to his sweater.

"I had tilings to take care of," he says, all growly, looking away from me and staring Ian down. They do the whole I'm alpha-No, I'm alphathing, with the staring and pulling the shoulders back and posturing.

Devyn whispers to Issie, loud enough for us to hear, "They're so sad sometimes."

She whispers back, "I know."

Mick picks the spruce branch off his sweater and says in a normal voice, "We are, aren't we?"

Then he smiles at me and my heart starts beating harder, which I'm ashamed to admit, but it's true.

Hearts betray you like that. This is why it's perfectly acceptable to be cardiophobic, afraid of hearts.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Tell me what to do, Zara," he says, casually rocking back on his heels. I swear Ian almost breaks his pen in half, but I just stand up and get Nick settled in with an Urgent Action appeal and some paper.

During school the sky is bright and blue, the kind of Maine sky that painters always recreate, the kind of sky that makes even a Charleston girl like me relax and smile. The colors crisp on the trees that I stare at during art class. I'm supposed to be working on a paper collage of an eagle, but my thoughts keep drifting off to pixies and political prisoners.

I rip a piece of red brocade paper to create a splash of excitement on the eagle's left wing. When I'm applying the glue, Nick glides into the room. He sits down at the table next to me.