Wicked Fate (The Wicked Trilogy) (6 page)

A huge head appears over
the
top of the bushes. Then slowly, the animal
fully emerges,
never taking his eyes off of my face. 
Shock
is the only thing I
can
feel. This isn’t
some massive fairy tale creature; it’s just
the largest, most enormous, gra
y dog I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I had no cl
ue dogs came in this size. It’s easily the
size of a small horse—seriously.

The
gigantic dog looks powerful and muscular.  His velvety
fur ripples as he moves
close
r
. His
massive head looks heavy
and his face is large and square with a short muzzle.  The
re’s a mask of black fur surrounding his eyes and nose. None of those take away from the beauty of his amazing silver fur. It’s short and has the look at crushed velvet. My fingertips beg to touch him.

Suddenly, the
dog seems to smile and I can see his large razor sharp teeth shining back at me. With caution, I slowly walk closer to the unbelievable beast. H
is body tenses as I near. Taking small steps, I get close enough to touch him.

Up close, he’s taller than me—even on all fours.

I gradually lift my hand and h
old it out to his soft fur. Bit-by-
bit, my hand gets closer and closer to him. I can fe
el his body starting to relax as
I lay my hand on his back.

Not only does his fur look like crushed velvet, it’s just as soft.

Once I’m comfortable enough to pet him, I start saying sweet encouraging words. His face comes closer to mine and for a
minute the fear of being decapitated comes back.

I’m in the middle of backing away slowly
,
when his sloppy wet tongue springs from his mouth and lands on the side of my face.  I laugh out loud, a strange sound even to my own ears, as he bath
e
s my face with doggy kisses. 

“You’re a good dog, huh?”

Leave it to me to baby
t
alk a massive beast
.

He continues to lick my face and pant at me before dropping down on his hind legs and bow
ing down to me.
I bow back and laugh out loud again.

“It’s nice to
meet you too, big guy! My name’
s Mage, what’s yours?” I giggle.

Checking around his neck
,
I see that he doesn’t have a collar or anything to distinguish his name or home. I decide that I’ll put out posters for the dog and then s
pend my
weekend trying to find his owner. I
f no one claims him, I’ll
keep him as my own.

For the first time
in a long time, I’m spending my weekend with so
meone other than my grandparents
or Thaddeus. Having a pet is a new thing for me, but honestly it feels like mor
e than that. It’s as if he’
s always been a part of my life. He seems to laugh insi
de when I make a joke or get sad when something’
s bothering me. I can’t put my fi
nger on it, but this is no
ordinary dog.

He fills a space in my life,
a friend who doesn’t judge me and a protector, not that I nee
d protection
.
But I feel
like nothing could come near me with this dog around. Maybe it’s his size that
makes me feel so safe
, but somehow I kn
ow that no matter what, he’ll
protect me from anyone or anything.

I spend Saturday a
t the county library
research
ing his breed.
I find a few dogs that look like him and come to the conclusion
that he’s an English Mastiff—one of the largest breeds around. By the time the weekend comes
to an end, I decide that it doesn’t matter where he came from; I’
m keeping him.

After making the big decision to keep him, he follows me up to the nearest pet stor
e where I buy him a huge
bag of dog food. He’d eaten a whole small bag alre
ady since Friday. He’s going to be expensive and knowing that makes me think maybe a part-time job wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

We pick out a few dog toys before leaving, pay for
everything, and then walk home side-by-side
.

“What should we name you?” I ask.

I perch myself
on the front steps of the house. D
irt puffs into the air as my new friend flops to the ground by my feet. 

  I run all kinds of dog names throu
gh my head and I find nothing
that fits this amazing beast. He’s the king of all dogs and whatever I choose has to be perfect. The king—Sire!

“Since you’re the king of all dogs, I think I’ll call you Sire. How does that sound?”

He lifts his big body out of the dirt and then ever so sweetly he bends his head to bow to me.

Sire, it is!

Chapter 4
  

The Addition of Bernie

My Monday morning wal
k to school is pleasant. The slight fog that’s covering the town makes
it hard to
see the ground beneath my feet. I pretend I’m walking on clouds, and my mood this morning seems to fit my imagination.

The morning birds are chirping and a wispy breeze is blowing through my midnight hair. I take a deep breath of the refreshing air and I can smell the early mist coming from the grass.

I’m running late, since getting Sire to stay on the porch took longer than it should have. I know I should hurry, but this moment of complete solitude is too precious and I can’t make myself rush.

Once I’m at school, the fi
rst part of the day flies by.  Time seems nonexistent and I think it has something to do with the aura of happiness that I’ve been swimming in all day. Having a new friend, even if he is just a dog, is having a good affect on me. So with my new
cheerful feelings, I walk to lunch with a
big
smile plastered on my face.

The people
I pass in the hallway cower in fear;
they’re afraid of my smile. They look at me
with suspicion,
like I mi
ght be plotting something dangerous against the school. That
thought makes me lau
gh inside and my smile gets
larger.

Strangely,
I’m in a friendly mood. For the first time in many years, I feel the desire to socialize.

With a pretty red apple and a bottle of water in hand,
I start towards the cafeter
ia doors to go to my new secluded
lunch spot. Ou
t of the corner of my eye, I
see m
y old table and sitting there is
Bernie. She’s alone and for once, she isn’t paying any attention to me.

She’
s
munching on a bag of chips
and staring off into space. Her
lonelin
ess breaks my heart; especially since it’s my fault
she’s
alone in the first place.
It’s one thing
for me to be ignored
, but it’
s
another for this seriously sweet girl to be banished permanently for no good reason.
I thought for sure that people would get over her friendly display towards me, since she’s new, and take her under their wing. But I guess I was wrong. The human race never fails to disappoint.

I see myself sitting at that
lunch table. I’ve felt what she’
s
feeling and all I know is
I want to take that
feeling away from her
.
It’s not fair that people can be so cruel.

I decide in the moment, that I’m going to make another massive change in my life. I’m going to stop living for the people around me. It’s not like anything I do is going to change their opinion of me anyway.
This girl needs a friend and today I’m feeling exceptionally friendly.

The room goes still and all eyes to turn on me…again, as I walk up to Bernie. I question if I’m doing the right thing, but then I look at her sad face and I know I am.

People begin to stand to get a better view. It’s as if they expect me to do something crazy like bite her head off. They should be ashamed of themselves for being so nosey, but instead they openly gawk and point.

I
reach my hand out and softly
tap her on her shoulder to get her attention
. S
he jumps at the
unexpected
contact.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hi!” s
he says a little too loudly.

“Do you want to ditch the lunch room and come eat lunch with me? It’s more comfortable outside,” I murmur.

“Uh—okay
,
sure!”

Her face brightens as she flashes a toothy
smile.

She grabs all of her things and follows me towards the cafeteria doors. The room is so silen
t that our footsteps echo
.

This is probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever
done and I know once everyone starts to tease her, I’ll regret it. But right now she needs to know she has an ally in the world.

Her eyes light up when she sees my special lunch alcove.

“It’s so nice out here. You’d need a
freakin
’ chainsaw to cut the tension in there,” she tosses her bag onto the bench and runs her fingers through her curls.

“Yeah, it’s pretty stuffy in there,” I smile awkwardly.

There’s a minute or two of uncomfortable silence and then the craziest thing happens—I
socialize.

“So, how do you like Summerville?” my voice cracks.

“I love it here. It’s so pretty everywhere. The people are kind of strange though…no offense,” she adds quickly.

It’s funny to me that she says that considering she’s sitting with the strangest one of all.

“Don’t let them get to you—I don’t.”

“Doesn’t it bother you that they totally ignore you?” she asks.

“Nah, I’m used to it.”

Ha
ving a conversation with a
person
who’s not my family or a ghost is a different kind of experience. I’ve spent most of my life afraid of the consequences of having a friend, mostly afraid for the friend. B
ut
in reality, it’s not as hard as I’
d pictured it.

At first, the conversation’s very basic. B
ut soon, after realizing we both have a love for history, we have plenty to talk about.
Before we know it, the bell rings and it’s time for our next class.

I can’t help but feel proud of myself. I feel good about my decision to befriend Bernie and I suppose if there are any consequences, then I’ll deal with them when they come.

The walk to the gym is different.  I’m used to being totally ignored and it usually takes me forever to get anywhere since I have to maneuver myself through a crowd of obnoxious people. But the crowds literally part as Bernie and I walk to our next class. I guess the shock of seeing me socialize with another person is too much for them to bear. 

I’m relieved that the kick ball incident isn’t mentioned. I’m not sure how I would have gotten myself out of that one. I get the feeling that she knows bringing up that certain topic would make for a very uncomfortable conversation and appreciate her consideration. All my initial instincts about her character were correct.

I spend the rest of the day around Bernie since after gy
m is history and we have that
together as well.
It’s nice having her in class with me. She gives me something to do so that I don’t feel totally awkward sitting next to Adam.

We say goodb
ye after
class and I
walk my usual route home. Sire’
s
waiting for me just inside the woods that I cut through
and it’s nice to
have him to talk to on the trek
home.

The days that
follow are pretty much the same. I meet Bernie in the cafeteria for lunch every day, we spend the hour talking about our likes and dislikes, and then we walk to gym class. Nei
ther of us participates in gym. I hate gym, and Bernie’s too busy checking out boys to worry about participating.

“What about him? He’s cute, don’t you think?” she points a painted finger at Tommy Milson.

“He’s an idiot.”

“You think they’re all idiots, Mage,” she snorts.