Seventeen

Barb sat next to me on the bus and talked nonstop for the entire trip. “My cousin Ronnie works part-time at the zoo taking care of the cages and habitats and feeding the animals. I told him our class was coming tonight and asked him if he could get us into some of the places in the park only the employees can go, like the nursery. You can’t believe how cute the baby animals are.”

I usually felt a little jealous of my friend’s perpetual energy and enthusiasm, but the shrill jabber of her voice grated on my ears. I didn’t want to go to the zoo anymore; I should have stayed in the car and told Trick to take me home. Caught between Barb and my depression, I knew it was going to be a long night.

Once we arrived and were led through the front entrance by our Biology teacher, Mrs. Richards, who was already lecturing, I felt a little better. The night air washed over my face, cool and crisp, and walking through the shadows toward the exhibits made me imagine I was in the jungle. The zookeepers had switched off most of the electric fixtures in the park, so the only light we had came from flaming party torches they had staked here and there along the walkways.

The first habitat we stopped at was in the reptile exhibit, where one of the herpetologists who worked at the park explained the nocturnal habits of alligators, frogs, snakes and other scaly critters.

“Florida’s reptile population has always had a bad reputation, especially in the lakes region where gators have been known to attack and kill humans,” the scientist explained. “But the swamp is the kingdom of the reptile, and they all serve as an important part of the food chain. Frogs, for example, are extremely helpful in curtailing the insect population, and serve as nourishment for many of our aquatic birds.”

“Okay, I get how frogs are important,” one of the students said, “but what good are snakes?”

“Snakes may seem repulsive and frightening, but without them the rodent population would quickly multiply out of control,” the herpetologist said. “In areas where land development and pesticides have wiped out the local snake population, we’ve even seen mini-plagues of mice and rats.”

“Hard to tell which is worse,” a girl’s voice sneered behind me.

Beside me Barb shrank down, as if she wished she could disappear, which surprised me as I glanced back at Tiffany and her posse. I wondered why they’d bothered to wear their uniforms and jackets on a field trip, but at least it made them easy to spot.

“What do you think is more disgusting, girls?” Tiffany smirked before she glared at Barb. “The squealing little rats”—she shifted her gaze to me—“or the slithering slimy snakes?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I answered before anyone could shake a pom-pom. “But I’m sure you and your friends have some redeeming qualities.”

A few kids around us hooted their admiration for my comeback, but Tiffany wasn’t amused, and took a step toward me. “Yeah, we do. Like not stealing someone else’s boyfriend.”

I scanned the group until I spotted Boone, and then I looked back at her. “But why steal a guy who you don’t even want, and who you can have for free?”

As everyone around us laughed, Tiffany’s face twisted. “You’re going to regret this,” she promised in a low voice.

The hatred in her eyes chilled me, but I was tired of being blamed for her breakup. “You’re going to need therapy.”

The teacher called out for us to move on, so I turned my back on her and followed the rest of the class to the next exhibit. Barb clutched my arm and pulled me away, putting some distance between us and the cheerleaders.

“Geez. For a minute I thought she was going to jump you.” She blew out a breath. “Maybe we should walk with the teacher. You know, before we end up getting pushed into a pit of poisonous snakes.”

I faked a yawn. “They keep a pit filled with cheerleaders?”

“Good one.” Barb looked over at a group of park employees standing a few yards back. “Maybe one of them knows where my cousin is working. You go ahead and I’ll catch up with you.”

We had to wait behind another school group at the next exhibit, mainly because some of the students couldn’t be coaxed away from the glass panels that provided an underwater view of the alligator pond. It was understandable; the other group was made up of elementary school-age kids, who obviously thought seeing the underside of a gator swimming was the best thing since recess had been invented.

“It will just be another moment,” our teacher said when some of our group began grumbling. “The students ahead of us are from Sunshine School.”

I didn’t recognize the name, but heard a boy near me mutter, “Great, we have to wait on the retards.”

“Hey.” The girl standing next to him pushed him. “They’re called special needs kids, moron.”

“Whatever.” He sounded bored.

After the short delay the tour guide rerouted the children from Sunshine School, and we worked our way through two more exhibits. Because Barb hadn’t returned from talking to her cousin I began jotting down notes to give to her.

After the second presentation Tiffany rudely pushed past me and walked up to speak to the teacher. Although I couldn’t hear what they discussed, the cheerleader pointed back at us and made several big gestures with her hands. When the teacher shook her head, Tiffany actually stamped her foot before she stalked off in the direction of the last exhibit we’d toured.

“We’ll take a break here,” our teacher said after we finished the tour of the insect exhibits. “Does anyone have to use the facilities?”

I went to sit down and wait on one of the benches by the restrooms, but some of Tiffany’s friends beat me to the only empty one left. I changed direction and wandered over to the gift shop, which was closed, and examined the souvenirs in the display window.

“Pretty boring, isn’t it?”

Of course it was Boone, standing directly behind me, looking over my shoulder at the stuffed elephants. Whenever Tiffany messed with me, Boone was sure to follow up with his own brand of harassment. I felt like banging my forehead into the window until either the glass or my skull smashed. “Go away.”

“That’s what I’m doing.” He looked over his shoulder before he asked, “Want to get out of here? We can take a drive over by the lake, maybe sit and talk. I could use some advice.”

I turned around which I immediately realized was a mistake, because he was so close he was practically on top of me. Sure, he wanted to talk. “You’re planning to steal the school bus?”

“I missed the bus, so I drove over in my car.” His eyelids drooped as he braced an arm against the window. “Come on. No one will miss you.”

I smiled at him as I imagined driving my foot into his newly-healed ankle and listening to it snap. “Okay, let’s go.”

He lifted his head, his expression bewildered. “Really?”

“I’m bored, too.” I just needed a little more space to make my escape. “So, where’s your car parked?”

He took a step back and turned, lifting his hand to point toward something. That gave me enough room to duck under his arm and take off.

I ran around the short alley between the gift shop and the park’s ice cream parlor, and as soon as I was out of sight I backtracked to the restrooms. I noticed another building behind the public facilities with lights on, and went in that direction. It turned out to be a visitor’s center, which due to the all-night event was still open.

A receptionist looked up as I walked inside. “May I help you?”

I thought of Barb. “One of my friends left our group to see her cousin who works here, and our teacher wants her to come back before we get too far ahead on our notes,” I said. “Her cousin’s name is Ron Riley. Do you know him?”

“Sure, Ron is assigned to the big cats habitat, which is right behind the elephant and giraffe enclosures,” the receptionist said. “He might have taken your friend to the nursery in building seven over there. One of our cheetahs had a litter in June, and everyone loves to see the little ones.”

I thanked her, slipped back out and checked on my class. Since there were long lines of kids still waiting to use the restroom, and Boone might have a bright moment and realize what I’d done, I decided to go and find Barb.

I couldn’t help stopping at the giraffe pen for a few moments to admire the towering, awkwardly elegant creatures. My presence drew the attention of one seven-foot-tall youngster, who lumbered over to the fence to have a look at me with his big, soft dark eyes.

“Don’t tell anyone I’m AWOL,” I said in a loud whisper, and chuckled as he dipped his head as if inviting me to tell him another secret.

I followed the walkway from there to the beginning of the big cats exhibit, where I looked down the small side paths for the caretaker building where Ron Riley had his office. Although the other kids had complained about how dark it was even with the scattered torches, I had no problem reading the small signs posted outside the employee areas. I didn’t find the building, so I stopped at the directory map across from the lions’ habitat to check my location.

A deep, hunking sound made me turn around, and at first glance I thought I saw a series of small light-colored boulders lining the inside of the high chain link fence surrounding the enclosure. Then I caught the backshine of feline eyes and realized I was being watched by some of the lions. I looked past them at the concrete shelves of the mock cliff that comprised their living area, but they were empty, and what I had thought were boulders were blinking and breathing.

I was being watched by all of the lions.

Lions had been mentioned several times in the section of our class textbook that covered nocturnal predators. Although they were excellent night hunters, they were also short-sighted so they preferred to sneak up on potential prey.

“Nice kitties,” I murmured, taking a step back. I wasn’t a coward, but I wasn’t used to being stared at like a limping gazelle. At the sound of my voice some of the females began stirring around the big male, who shook out his enormous mane and then seemed to grin at me. “I think I’ll move along to the next exhibit.”

My footsteps echoed as I walked down past the lions’ habitat and into a darker section of the exhibit. I thought I might be walking a little too fast, and then I heard the echo split into two sounds: my walking and someone else running. I peered ahead and saw the back of a cheerleader’s jacket in the distance. It disappeared a moment later, but not before I read the name BECK above the tiger decal.

What was Tiffany doing over here? Had she followed Barb in order to harass her?

The sound of her running steps had disappeared by the time I reached the next habitat, and I couldn’t tell which direction she had gone. I turned to go back the way I came when I noticed that there was a piece of the fence around the cheetah compound missing. On closer inspection the gap in the fence turned out to be a gate that had been left open.

That wasn’t what made me go still. The cheetah standing directly on the other side of the gap did that.

The long, lanky feline stretched out its head, sniffing the sides of the fence and the ground. Silently I prayed it would lose interest, turn around and walk off so I could grab the gate and close it, but the sound of laughter drew its attention, and it sauntered through the gap and onto the walkway.

I turned my head toward the sound and saw that the students from the special needs elementary school were gathering at another enclosure fence only a few yards away. The big cat saw them, too, and her ears flicked as her orange eyes tracked over them, not curious but assessing.

I thought frantically. I knew from my studies that cheetahs were diurnal predators who hunted early in the morning and late in the afternoon. Because they depended on their sight instead of smell to identify prey, they liked to climb up into trees and up cliffs so they could survey a wide swath of the surrounding area, too. Which they could cover very quickly, as they were the fastest animal on land in the world.

My textbooks had said nothing about how to make a cheetah go back into its habitat, or stop it from attacking grade-schoolers.

“Hey, pretty thing,” I said, keeping my voice low and even. “Over here.” The cheetah swung her head around toward me, and uttered a sound like a bird chirping. “That’s right. Look at me.”

I couldn’t shout out a warning without startling her, but I could put myself between the cheetah and the children. I moved slowly, taking care not to make any sudden movements, and tried to think of what I could do to keep her attention focused on me. On some level I knew what I was doing was insane, that I should run for safety. I also knew that if I did she might see that as prey behavior and chase me down. In a race against the fastest feline on the planet, I would definitely lose.

“You have gorgeous eyes,” I told the cheetah as I took a step forward and closed the gap between us. “I’ve never seen any kind of cat with orange eyes. But what do you wear to bring out the color? Other than your furs, I mean.”

The cheetah’s tail twitched, and she chirped again.

“Of course it would be more fun to chase down those little kids instead of listening to me. Kind of like getting take-out at one a.m., right?” I stopped two feet in front of her, and saw the regal power coiled in her bunched muscles. “But you know it’s not good for you to eat before you go to bed.”

This close I could count the uneven spots on her pelt; they looked like smudged fingerprints on her sides and then began blending together into uneven stripes along her spine. Her lower jaw dropped, flashing the daggerlike tips of her teeth as she started to pant and pace back and forth in a small circle.

I could almost sense her conflicted instincts. She was built for speed, not compassion or mercy. In her world it was eat or be eaten; hunt to live or starve to death. But maybe she also understood that young had to be protected, even in this artificial world built by humans who came here to gawk at her.

“They’re only little ones,” I assured her. “Let them go, okay?”

She swung her head back to give the grade-schoolers one final look, and then sat down on her haunches.

“Thank you.” Somehow I’d gotten close enough to touch her, and held out my hand, turning the palm up and spreading my fingers. Her whiskers prickled my skin as she rubbed her head against it, and she made a rough sound like a purr, as if she were nothing more than an oversize house cat. “Now, how can I convince you to walk back through that gate and let me close it?”

The chaperons escorting the Sunshine School kids must have finally noticed me and the big cat, because a woman let out a terrified scream while someone else shouted for the kids to run. The noise broke the spell between me and the cheetah, and her ears flattened as she rose on all fours.

When I saw her muscles bunching I knew I had to give her a different target, something she couldn’t resist. I dug my fingernails into my palms as hard as I could and then spread my hands as I felt blood pool in the crescent-shaped wounds. I was afraid, and I really didn’t want to die, but if someone had to it was going to be me.

The cheetah’s nostrils flared as she picked up the scent of my blood, and she crouched down, ready to spring.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man with a rifle pointed at me. An instant later a shadowy streak shot through the air, and something slammed into me, but it wasn’t the big cat. It was big and powerful, and hit me so hard it knocked me across the walkway. Then I was on the ground and rolling into a wide swath of bushes until we stopped. I threw up my arms to cover my face, and kept my eyes tightly closed as I waited to feel fangs sinking into my flesh.

“Catlyn.”

I opened one eye and peeked through the gap between my arms. Predatory eyes stared down at me, but they weren’t orange or feline. These were solid black, with a strange opalescent sheen that moved over them in a hypnotic swirl. That those eyes glittered down at me framed by the beautiful face of my dark boy confused me.

“Jesse?” I was probably hallucinating. Or I’d already died and gone to heaven. I lowered my arms anyway. “You can’t be here. You said you couldn’t … be here.” Why was it so difficult to speak?

Jesse’s hair fell against my cheek, blocking out the light, and then he cupped my cheek with his hand. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

My eyes closed on their own. Then I felt a whisper of breath against my neck, cooling my heated skin. It felt wonderful. Everything was wonderful now that he was here.

His cheek brushed mine, and then I felt the touch of his mouth against mine, another whisper, this one soft and gentle. I felt my name as he breathed it there before he kissed me again.

My whole body became one huge flush, but I didn’t care. Nothing existed except that kiss, my first kiss. Now I can die, I thought as I fell into him, drifting away into some silent place, some nowhere only the two of us shared.

I thought I’d be awkward, and not know what to do, but I kissed him back as if I’d done a thousand times. Everything inside me untangled, stretching out through my veins, rushing over my heart like a wave of warm water.

I would have lay there and kissed him forever, until the stars winked out and time ended, and all that had been faded away. I didn’t mind. Jesse and I were the only universe I needed.

A heartbeat later he lifted his mouth from mine, and when I opened my eyes, the dark silver of his smiled down at me.

“Hi.” I didn’t know what else to say.

Jesse drew back and lifted me up in his arms as he pushed through the back of the bushes to another walkway behind them. He set me on my feet but kept his hands on my arms. “Where are you hurt?”

“I don’t know.” And I didn’t care. “What are you doing here?”

“I felt … I thought you might need me.” He glanced over the bushes at the zookeepers, who were gathering around the cheetah where it lay on the ground. “How did that animal escape?”

“Someone left a gate open.” My dreamy euphoria ebbed away as I realized Jesse was really here, at the zoo, where there were hundreds of kids. “You can’t stay here. There are too many people.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He hesitated, and then said, “I’m not as sick as I thought I was.”

I smiled. “You’re better? Really? I’ve been so worried about you.”

His mouth hitched. “I know.”

“I tried to call. I would have come back to see you if there had been any way, but your island is like Fort Knox.” I winced as he took my hand in his, and made a face as he examined the small wounds on my palm. “I had to distract the cheetah from some little kids.” I looked over the bushes at the big cat, who was sprawled on the walkway, a red-fletched cartridge dart sticking out of her neck. “I thought the smell of my blood might do it.”

“It is very distracting,” he agreed, and lowered my hand while he studied my face. “You are thinner. There are shadows under your eyes. Have you been sick?”

“My brother has been keeping me on the bread and water diet.” I explained what happened after Ego’s father had brought me back to the docks, and Trick’s reaction. “This is the first time since that day that I’ve been allowed to do anything but sit in my room and go to school. Did your parents punish you?”

“They forbade me to leave the island.” He brushed my hair back from my forehead. “I thought it would be best if I stayed away, but I was wrong. Without you, I was lonely and miserable and empty. Every night I could think of nothing but you.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” I saw one of the zookeepers peering into the bushes. “They’re coming. You should go.”

“No.” He put his arms around my waist. “I’m not going to leave you again.”