Damaged Mate

Whoever came up with the phrase “home is where the heart is” should be slapped in the face. The entire concept is absolute nonsense, especially in my case. You don’t just go from living in the city all your life to suddenly being fine in the middle of a heavily forested area, whose population total I could probably count off on my fingers. Given the fingers represented one hundred each, of course. It’s not my dad’s fault, of course; it wouldn’t have been fair for him to leave his job behind and come to New York for my sake. I’m still pretty resilient at my age, comparatively speaking. Teenagers tend to be a bit more flexible than a fifty-something-year-old man stuck in his ways. That didn’t mean I wasn’t feeling homesick. So, in short, I was feeling pretty far from home right now. “I told you, girl,” Hazel said through the speaker of my phone. “You should’ve just come and stayed with my family. We’re practically sisters as is!” “Not legally, though.” I let out a huge sigh, flopping against my bed while staring up at the ceiling. God, this was such an old house; who purposefully puts floral crowning at the corners of the walls? “Look, if I had it my way, I’d pack my stuff up and happily bunk in with you. At least then I’d have something more to do than literally watch the grass grow outside.” Hazel snickered loudly. “Wow. Country life that boring?” Another huge groan slipped out of my throat. “I have to ride my bike everywhere, Hazel. Getting to a Busy Burger takes fifteen minutes, and that’s the only place worth eating at around here.” The line went quiet for a moment, static filling in where the conversation would be. Then, Hazel spoke, her voice softer than before. “How’re you handling… you know?” I caught a strand of thick red hair between my fingers and began twirling it absentmindedly. Even now, a sour pit formed in my stomach at the mere thought of it all. “I mean, having a chronic illness kind of helps you settle into the inevitable.” “Aria…” I let out a wobbly sigh, blinking furiously as a few tears escaped my eyes. “I’m… I just am right now, I guess.” “That’s okay,” Hazel reassured me. “You can just ‘be’ if you gotta be.” I rolled onto my stomach, hugging a nearby pillow against my chest. “If I try to pin it down right now, I’ll either fly into a rage against the injustices of the universe or break down and never crawl out of myself.” I stared up at the ceiling for a moment, noticing the cracks and chips in the paint. “But at the end of the day, it… it was just a matter of time, you know?” “Yeah, I know,” Hazel said. “It’s just weird to think she’s gone. I’ll pass by your old place without anyone waving at me through the window.” We were both quiet for a moment, just taking in the weight of it all. “P-plus,” Hazel added with a shaky laugh, “school’s gonna be so lame without you there.” “Tell me about it.” I sat up slowly, pushing my back against the mountain of pillows while staring at my hanging mirror. It was like Mom was still here, in a way: same wild hair, same pale face, same exemplary curves that got all the boys’ attention. The only difference—the only thing that made it clear she was gone and the reflection was me—was the bright green eyes staring back through the mirror. One of the many gifts I’d gotten from Dad over the years. “You still there, Aria?” I nodded slightly, finger tightening around the strand of hair I’d grabbed. “Yeah, sorry. Thinking a bit about school myself.” “Oh, God, that’s right,” Even without being able to see her face, it was clear Hazel was grimacing. “At least I’ll know everyone in my class.” “Nothing like being the ‘new girl’ for your senior year of high school,” I replied. “It’s every kid’s dream.” Hazel chuckled lightly. “You’ll have a brand-new crew by the second day. I’m sure of it.” “And what makes you think—” I started to say. “Girl, you’ve got a magnetic personality,” Hazel insisted. “And I’m not gonna sit here and listen to you say otherwise.” I couldn’t help but grin, rolling off my bed and onto my feet to pace the width of my room. “I guess it’s nice to have a room that isn’t the size of a matchbox. Whenever we get on break, maybe you can come down and see it. I haven’t gotten much decorated, and I know that’s your favorite thing to do.” “Oooh, yes, girl!” Hazel squealed. “You know I love a good interior job. New town, new house, new Aria Harvey!” A slew of giggles broke out as I stepped toward my window, taking a seat in the nook and staring out in the fading dusk. It really was a pretty sight to see, like nothing I could ever witness back in the city. The trees were silhouettes in the backdrop, silent guards on patrol beneath the starlit sky. I hadn’t had a real chance to explore the backyard’s forest yet; Dad kept insisting he went with me, made sure I knew the safest paths. It had seemed ridiculous when he’d said it—I wasn’t a child. I knew how to navigate a forest. At least, I’d thought so, until something rumbled from deep within the thicket. I barely heard Hazel’s voice on the line. Part of me wondered if I’d just imagined it, or if some neighbor’s cat was sitting beneath my window outside screaming for food. Gingerly, I flipped the lock and pushed it upright, straining my ear to listen. The crickets’ serenade signaled the end of summer, ushering in fall on the heel of whistling wind. With Hazel’s voice still ringing in my ear, I opted to set the phone on the cushion next to me, nearly pushing my entire upper body out to try to find the noise. That’s when I saw it. A pair of eyes glinting from the darkness of the trees. With a panicked gasp, I completely lost my grip on the windowsill. My hand flew forward, body tilting after it as my head aimed to hit the ground. Something firm grabbed around my waist and pulled me back inside, phone tumbling off the window nook alongside me. “Ouch,” I winced, rubbing my back as I looked up at my savior. “Oh, D-Dad! Wh-when’d you come in?” My dad offered me his hand, easily hefting me back onto my feet. He glanced at my phone on the ground, a curious look on his face. “I came to check in on you. Been talking with Hazel for a while now.” “Oh, Hazel.” I quickly snagged my phone, cupping it to my mouth before getting out a quick apology and a promise to call her back tomorrow. With a click of the button, I tossed my phone toward my bed, relieved when it didn’t fall off again. “Sorry ‘bout that. I wasn’t too loud, was I?” Dad shook his head, a soft smile spreading beneath his salt and pepper beard. “No, sweetheart, you were fine. To tell you the truth,” he added sheepishly, “I just wanted to double-check and see if your window was locked.” It was my turn to grin guiltily. “R-right. Well, it was, for a bit, but then I heard something outside.” Dad’s brow furrowed slightly. He clearly wouldn’t be satisfied with just that as an answer. “It was like, a yowling?” I explained. “Or maybe a throaty growl. I’m not really sure, honestly; I only heard it once. Thus the window opening,” I added with a wave of my hand. “You didn’t see anything in the trees, did you?” Dad’s voice held a hint of an edge. I didn’t want to worry him, per se, but it was better to be honest with him. I’d want him to know if something dangerous had gotten too close to the house. “I mean, there were… eyes?” I offered hopefully. Dad ran a hand through his darkened hair, similarly streaked with strands of white. It was crazy to see him outside of framed photographs back at Mom’s place; having separated parents really did strange things to one’s memory. “Guess something’s wandering around town again. I’ll have to let the mayor know so he can send a few people out.” He went for my door but paused, turning back to face me as he continued, “I know you’re not used to a curfew, or being limited as to where you can go, but this is exactly why. The last thing I want to hear from anyone is how my daughter had an encounter with wolves.” “W-wolves?” I stumbled over the word, trying to force a smile on my face. “That’s—you’re joking, right? I thought wolves are scared of people as much as we are them?” “The ones in Ayersville are… unique,” Dad replies, as if he’s chosen each word carefully. “They’re used to people, unfortunately.” “Okay, well, it’s not like anyone’s died because of them, right?” I wish I hadn’t asked; the minute I did, my dad’s expression fell completely from his face. “Dad?” “They’re very rare cases!” The scar across Dad’s lip curled as he gave a reassuring grin. “And the people who were killed only were because they were stupid. But you’re right, wild animals are often more afraid of us than we are them.” He sighed softly, clearly seeing I’ve started to tremble. A real smile graced me as he pulled me in for a warm hug. “They’re only active at night, sweetheart. As long as you’re inside before the sun’s down, there’s nothing to worry about.” I could only manage a grimace as my arms wrapped around his waist. “Any chance I could convince you to lend me a pocketknife?” I asked. “For safety reasons, of course.” Dad chuckled deeply, pulling away just enough that our green eyes could meet. “I’d be happy to. Heck, when you go to the store tomorrow, find one you like and I’ll pick it up on the way home from work.” “The general store sells pocketknives?” I asked incredulously. Dad began full-on laughing, gently swaying toward the bed as he set me down. “They might have some stored away for their favorite accountant. Now, get some sleep. It’s getting late, you and Hazel practically talked through twilight.” “We really did, didn’t we?” I grinned, grabbing my covers before tucking underneath them. “‘Night, Dad.” “Goodnight, Aria.” My dad flipped the light switch, gently maneuvering toward the door as he began to close it behind him. “I love you.” “Love you too, Dad,” I replied on a yawn, settling into my pillow as drowsiness overtook me.