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Ophelia stepped off her back porch the next morning to find Raven waiting on the little roof. “Feeling better? Ready for breakfast?” Raven flapped both wings as if neither had ever been hurt and cocked his head at her, blue eyes shining in the garage lights.
She climbed the woodpile and set another package of thawed-out moose meat on the little roof. “You really can put it away. Roadkill must be scarce right now.”
Kiska whined and licked her boot.
“Wait your turn.” Ophelia climbed down and ruffled his ears.
Deep breathing drew her attention beyond the light and she saw a live moose sitting in the deep snow, the light dim on its massive antlers. He sat between the tool shed and the greenhouse, the garden lying in ruin beneath winter’s blanket, a sad reminder that her father had not gardened in two years.
Ophelia had tried to keep it up for him because fresh veggies made her mother happy. But her summer job and schoolwork had gotten in the way. She sighed and pulled her purple gloves on. She needed to go fast, or Bianca would see her wearing the gloves and whine about them not matching her light tan shearling coat and how redheads should never wear purple.
Ophelia parked on the street outside school, like the other geeks, snapped on her flashlight, and started for the main entrance.
Martin stepped out from behind his truck.
She stopped.
“What are you doing?” Martin smiled and walked toward her, looking like he expected her to run into his arms. “You don’t really think just because we had a rough weekend, I’d kick you to the curb?” For four months, she’d parked her car up front next to his truck.
He’s delusional. Ophelia glanced around for a way to avoid him.
“You’re my Sweet, my goddess.” He kept walking.
He is outta his freakin’ mind. Maybe I should say I forgot something at home and just get back in the car.
“It’s going to be all right, I promise.” Martin was two meters away.
Ophelia reached for her door handle.
Raven swooped down, shrieking, right into Martin’s face.
“Whoa.” She jerked back against the car.
“Stupid bird.” Martin swung at the fierce black bird.
“No, Martin, you’ll hurt him.” Ophelia rushed forward, but neither bird nor idiot-ex-boyfriend would stop.
A low moaning sound drew her attention to Main Street.
A caribou herd, about fifty strong, rounded Joe’s Bar & Grill. Thick and shaggy, fur shades of gray, their breath puffed clouds up around their antlers. Their hooves kicked up ice and snow, like Santa’s reindeer on a rampage. But, these were wild creatures.
“Stampede!” Mrs. Cox yelled from the teacher’s parking lot, waving her arms. “Everyone inside.”
The Ninilchik herd spooked at least once a year and went trotting down Main Street, so it was not that big of a deal. Except, it always happened during the Northern migration in Spring.
Not December, the dead of winter.
A strong arm went up around her waist and her Sweet Wesley ran with her to the main entrance. He deposited her on the top step. “Get inside, fast.” He hurdled the railing and back-flipped off the dumpster so fast she couldn’t make out his face.
Ophelia had seen moves like that on YouTube. Called ‘freerunning.’ It looked positively supernatural, but surely it was just one agile boy who’d built up a lot of strength through constant practice.
She pushed through the door but saw only his brown leather bomber jacket as he barreled over a car. Ooh, he makes me want to do very bad things. She touched her cheek, burning though the air temperature was below freezing.
Back in the parking lot, masses of caribou, their branch-like antlers, and their breath white in the air, ran on.
All the other arriving students made it to entrances easily enough, too. They’d been through it before and didn’t have ravens trying to pluck out their eyeballs.
Ophelia backed to the wall as the student body passed in a mass of tired voices. She imagined Raven dive-bombing Martin while he flailed his arms around and fled in front of a bunch of crazed caribou. A smirk and snicker followed.
If Martin got trampled and needed an air-lift to Anchorage, she’d also get a couple of days’ break from him.
Nah, I’m not that lucky. Realizing he’d hunt her down once away from the chaos, she decided she’d better hurry and get to Calculus. Shifting the backpack on her shoulder, she made for the junior lockers.
From the start, Ophelia had marveled how her secret admirer could get into lockers and locked cars without leaving a trace, but she’d never been spooked. Now she understood. She grasped her lock and spun the combination by memory. Pull, unhook, she froze finger under the latch. Please, I need something special, a clue of some kind. I need to know his identity today. I need to... I need...him.
She lifted the latch and opened the door. A griffin. The drawing hung from the upper shelf with a single piece of tape. It was the first a mythological creature he’d drawn for her, half eagle, half lion, rearing up in defense of his mate.
A breath eased out of her throat. I’ve seen this before. Ophelia studied the drawing. His ring. It’s just like the one on his ring. Find the ring and I find him. This is Cinderella in reverse. She pressed lips together, trying not to smile too much.
The first bell rang, and she stuffed the drawing into her Calculus folder.
Martin had many spies, those quick to roll over like kicked dogs desperate for affection. And they all seemed to fill the hallway at once.
Ophelia grabbed her Calculus textbook out of her locker and slammed the door shut. When she moved to lock it, her flowing sleeve caught in the door. Groaning, she reopened the door and freed herself.
Still hung up on The Princess Bride, Bianca had designed their blouses with raised Renaissance waists, beaded necklines, and long, flowing sleeves. Worn with jeans, she’d insisted they were modern fairytale princesses that morning before letting Ophelia out of her sight.
Ophelia navigated the crowd unnoticed because Martin didn’t have her on the metaphoric leash. She slumped into her usual seat in the back of class and rested her forehead on the desk. There wasn’t much to see. The teacher had no imagination.
Okay, my Sweet Wesley is in this class, I just know it. Ophelia opened her eyes and looked at all their left hands for the ring.
Not Trevor. He’d come to the party as Zorro. He pushed bleached blond curls from his eyes with his naked left hand.
Although he had a nice butt, Ricky Jellesed was too short.
Blair O’Neill was too tall.
Someone had told her Adrian Grayer was gay, and so would not even begin to be interested in her.
If I could choose my secret admirer, it would be him. Adrian wasn’t any cuter than the others, but he was always there, quiet and ready to help.
In fact, they were all cute, each in his own way, although they lacked any sort of style that might appeal to girls like her sister. They didn’t exactly adhere to geek stereotype, but it was obvious their priorities were not the same as the general student population.
All six were blond, even the ones of Alaska Native descent who’d been born with black hair. For some reason, the geek-guys were into bleaching their hair. She hadn’t quite figured that one out, since she was the only girl-geek. They’re probably too afraid of girl-cooties to tell me.
Class rumbled to a start and Ophelia turned her attention to calculus.
Mr. Smith was getting everyone ready for the dreaded semester exam scheduled for the next day.
She’d opted to take the test early and he handed it back.
“100 %” was scrawled at the top. The teacher had spelled her name wrong again, even though she’d written it in perfect penmanship. ‘Well done, Ofeelia.’
Bianca would say she was ridiculous for correcting it, but Bianca was in bonehead math.
Ophelia pressed pencil to paper and the lead broke. She sighed.
“You all right?” Adrian Grayer sat next to her in nearly every class.
“Fine.” She didn’t look at him but leaned over and dug into her backpack for another pencil. Too bad he doesn’t like girls.
All the while, her mind raced, trying to figure out which of the others her ‘Sweet Wesley’ could be. Josh Taylor has full lips, so he can’t be the one. I know my secret admirer’s lips very well now. They’re pouty and cute, like he needs a chocolate chip cookie. She always kept three perfectly sharpened pencils and three pens in her backpack but came up empty.
Straightening in her seat, she eyed the electric pencil sharpener on the teacher’s barren desk. She did not want to walk up. The guys would all look at her and she didn’t know who her secret admirer was.
“You can borrow mine.” Adrian offered his mechanical pencil, left-handed.
“Thanks.” She glanced his way just enough to see his sunny blond hair. When he leaned over to give her the pencil, she caught his scent too, the scent of birch trees in the winter. I love birch trees. She’d overheard him talking about helping at the nature center, rehabilitating eagles back into the wild.
Wait, that’s familiar somehow. She drew breath through her nose again. Very familiar.
His gold ring glinted in the lights as he placed the pencil above her book on the desk. A signet ring, its flat face was etched with the image of a creature, half lion and half eagle.
“Griffin.” Ophelia couldn't stop the gasp. "Oh, my.” She stared at the ring, and then looked into his stormy blue eyes, and then his pouty lips.
Adrian blushed deep red.
"You really are the one.”
"Does that mean you wanted..."
“But, you’re gay.” Ophelia’s voice squeaked just a little.
He pressed lips together and shook his head slightly.
Ophelia’s mouth dropped, and she didn’t even try to stop it. Her face burned, and she hid behind her textbook, certain the entire class could hear her heart pound. He’s been sitting right next to me for four months. Geez, I’m an idiot. She peeked at him around the edge of her book. He’s gorgeous!