“It’s the ‘most’ that worries me.”
“You always been afraid of snakes?”
My mind takes the well-traveled path to the day I got lost. The grass rustling. The slithering movement not more than five feet from where I huddled. Was I afraid before then? Before then, was I afraid of anything? “I’m not sure, to be honest. But I know I need to work through it. It’s good for me to challenge myself.”
I can feel him watching me. “Is that why you’re doing a trail project? To challenge yourself?”
“Partly.”
“Because you don’t seem comfortable out there.”
I exhale a hollow laugh. Understatement. “It’s not my favorite place.”
“And you think you’re a wimp?”
“I am.”
“Mai.” His voice is almost annoyed. “What you’re doing is brave. How do you not see that? Or are you so used to taking risks that it isn’t a big deal?”
“Me? Ha!” I stare at him with what must be saucer eyeballs. “I never take risks.”
“You’re having a fling with a knife-carrying delinquent, aren’t you?”
“You haven’t robbed a convenience store or beat up an old lady, and we’re already ten minutes into our fling. Not much of a delinquent.” I shrug. “And for the record, I only do irrational things around you.”
“You say irrational, I say brave.” He stares out the windshield for a minute. He’s seeing more than the row of bushes that line the lot. “What time do you need to be back?”
“Library closes at nine. Summer hours.”
He shifts in his seat and puts the car in drive. “Plenty of time.”
“For what?”
“Change of plans.”
“What? No. I don’t like changes in plans.”
He smiles again. “Then you’re really going to hate this.”
Chapter Fourteen
Anthony
“This is an awful plan. Mean and cruel and vile.” Mai adds a stomp of her foot as an exclamation point.
Her reaction is even better than I hoped. “You said we should do something one of us would hate.”
“This is not what I meant!” Her voice rises as she flings a hand toward the sign ahead of us: Reptile House.
“Good thing I’m not trying to impress you.”
“What are you trying to do? Kill me!”
Heads turn, and a few people slow to make sure no one’s life is in danger before they walk past.
The Phoenix Zoo is still crowded even though it’s dark—crowded because it’s dark. Summers here are brutally hot, and I can remember Mom bringing us at night or in the early mornings when Troy and I were kids. It was the only time you could see the animals awake and moving. I mostly remember the lions and the cinnamon churros, but it’s a cool place at night. The paths are well-lit, and they’ve got lanterns hanging in the trees, flowering bushes everywhere, and a big lake. It’d be a great place for a date. Romantic.
Not that this thing with Mai is a date. Not that anything about tonight is romantic. Mai has a fear, and I’m going to help her push past it. And she’s going to hate every minute of it.
It’s a win-win.
“I’m not going in,” she says, arms crossing over her chest.
“Yeah, you are.”
“In fourth grade, my teacher, Mr. Hoyer, also insisted I go inside during a field trip. I sat on the cement floor with my head between my knees and sang ‘Jingle Bells’ until it was time to leave.”
“I hate that song.”
“So did Mr. Hoyer.”
I smile at the image of Mai in rebellion. I never pictured her acting out in school, but she’s got that stubborn, willful streak. Same one I was accused of more than once. “Did you get in trouble?”
“Yes. My parents made me write a five hundred-word apology enumerating the ways in which I was disrespectful and might have handled the situation more appropriately.”
“Of course they did,” I say drily. “But did they bring you back?”
“No.”
“Then how were you supposed to face your fears?”
“This fear is exempt.”
I frown. “Because?”
She won’t meet my eyes.
“You don’t have to tell me. We can just go in.”
Her chin lifts, eyes glaring. But I know she’ll tell me if it means stalling.
“Fine,” she says. “We did a family hiking trip when I was seven years old. I saw a snake.”
“What kind of a snake?”
“I’m not sure. I thought if I closed my eyes and didn’t see it, then it wouldn’t see me. But I could hear it. That was worse.”
“A rattler,” I say. “What did your parents do?”
“They weren’t there.” Her shoulders shudder, and she rubs her arms as if she’s cold. I step closer without thinking, my hands lifting to pull her to me before I remember I can’t. I stick my hands in my pockets instead.
“It was my fault,” she adds. “I saw a deer trail and decided to explore. I ended up lost.”
“For how long?”
A couple strolls by, holding hands. Mai smiles at them as they pass.
“How long, Mai?”
“Can we move on, please?”
“When you answer.”
She sighs. Loudly. “Three hours.”
“It took them three hours to find you?” My fingers curl into fists as I picture her alone in the desert. Lost. Freaking out. A snake hissing. I want to kill that snake with my bare hands, and I want to hug her. And I can’t do either. The snake is long since dead, and I’ve got Rule 5 to follow. I’m itching with frustration, and Mai looks like she’s barely holding it together.
To hell with rules.
I step in again, put my arms around her, and pull her against my chest. She lets out a startled breath of air. Her spine stiffens for a second…then relaxes.
“You’re breaking the no-touching rule,” she says.
“Yeah, I am.”
There’s another breath and then her voice, muffled against my chest. “Fine. For one minute.”