Allie Jo
Clay takes one look at me and tackles Mr. Smith, or whoever he really is. Minutes later, the police arrive and get our stories. Chase and I tell them everything—how that man grabbed me, how he said he was going to take me, how he slapped Chase down—we tell them everything except about Tara.
The officers lead him away in handcuffs. The whole way to the patrol car, he’s spouting off about a seal girl and a skin. We shake our heads like he’s crazy.
My arm’s purpling up really badly, and Chase is acting woozy.
“Know what?” he says to Clay. “I think I’ve got a concussion.”
“Don’t worry,” Clay says. He gestures toward the police. “They called for an ambulance. Can you make it back in?”
Chase gives him a lopsided smile. “Totally, dude.”
Clay cracks a grin. “Okay, dude.” He makes us sit in the office, “where I can keep an eye on you,” he says.
Through the window, I see the police waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Moments later, our parents rush in, looking all worried and scared. The room bursts with voices and movement, and Chase and I tell once again about the crazy man harassing us, thinking we had something that belonged to him.
When the ambulance comes, Chase raises two fingers. “Peace out,” he says to me.
“See ya later, alligator,” I respond.
In the snuggly blankets of my bed, I can’t fall asleep. It’s not my arm, which is really sore, and I’m not scared, like if that man could escape.
It’s just I can’t stop thinking about Tara.
“You are good,” she’d said and kissed me. Then she hugged Chase too.
My eyes got blurry with tears after she dove into the springs, but I know I saw what I saw: a seal bobbed up and winked at me.