“So where did the blood come from?”

“Um… this poor little guy is all scratched up. It must have come from him.”

He case a suspicious look at the cat. “Speaking of your new friend – what do you plan to do with him?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “Clean him up and feed him for now.”

Nate was silent for a long moment. I waited for the double scolding – one for fighting and the other for bring home yet another stray. My uncle isn’t an animal hater. He just likes order in his home and animals aren’t exactly the tidiest roommates.

As if on cue, Daisy, our three-legged Beagle limped into the room. I don’t know how she lost her leg. I used to see her around the waterfront and it amazed me how well she moved on three legs. One day six months ago she didn’t move fast enough and got hit by a car. Healing her took a lot out of me but I saved her. Nate was not happy when I came home with a dog, but who could put a three-legged dog out in the street? Now Daisy was his almost constant companion and, though Nate would never admit it, I knew he liked her company.

Daisy came over to me and sniffed and the cat let out a warning hiss. Chastised, the dog sat back on her haunches to watch the newcomer from a safe distance.

“Sara, you’re seventeen, too old to be fighting with boys down at the wharf no matter what the reason.” I tried to speak up but he held up a hand. “You spend too much time alone when you should be going out with your friends, having fun. And you should be dating boys – not fighting with them.”

I squirmed on my chair. I was pretty sure no other teenage girl had a parent telling them to go out to parties and date. “I have friends,” I argued weakly. Okay maybe I had never dated and I wasn’t a social butterfly but I did have friends. As for girls, well they didn’t seem to warm up to me much. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t that they hated me; they just didn’t seem comfortable around me.

Nate scoffed. “Friends like Greg you mean? There is a model of good behavior. I suppose that’s where you learned to fight.”

“Greg is not a bad guy – and no, he didn’t teach me to fight. Just because he’s a biker doesn’t make him a criminal.” There was that one thing but I didn’t think juvenile records counted once you reached eighteen. And I wasn’t about to bring that up to Nate.

“He might not be a criminal but he’s no angel either.”

I had to suppress a smile because Nate was right about that. Greg was definitely no angel. A year older than me, Greg was already the school bad ass when I started high school and met him for the first time. He grew up working in his uncle’s bike shop and he was tougher and brawnier than half the senior boys and not afraid to show it. There was something about the roguish tilt of his head and the gleam in his green eyes when he smiled – or scowled at you – that either drew you in or scared the heck out of you. I wasn’t sure if it was the way he did his own thing without a care for anyone’s opinion or the fact that he could have bullied anyone in school and chose not to, but I liked him immediately. He didn’t really associate with the other students so I’m not sure why he decided to befriend me. One day he just started sitting with me at lunch and when he got his first bike he gave me rides and took me to Jed’s with him and his friends. I even had a crush on him for a short while until his friend Mike told me I reminded them of Greg’s younger cousin which put a damper on any romantic notions I had for him.

I missed Greg. He and Mike had moved to Philadelphia right after graduation to work for Mike’s uncle who owned an automotive parts plant. It wasn’t the best job in the world but as long as it paid the rent and kept his bike running, Greg was happy. We kept in touch through email but it had been over a week since I last heard from him.

“Greg moved to Philly, remember? I haven’t seen him since June.”

“Well I won’t pretend to be sad about that.” He tapped the arm of his chair. “What about Roland? I remember when you two used to be inseparable. And Peter too.”

“We still hang out. We just like to do some different things now, that’s all.” It wasn’t that Roland didn’t try to include me, and I did go to an occasional party with him. I just wasn’t into partying as much as my best friend. Roland understood that even if no one else did.

“It just seems like you’ve become more closed off the last few years. It’s not healthy to shut everyone out.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s my fault. I left you alone too much when you were younger. I know I’m not your father… I just wish I knew how to get through to you.” He gave me a pleading look. “You spend so much time alone or off doing God knows what. I have no idea where you are or what you’re doing.”

“Nate, I–” I faltered because we always seemed to end up here. I mean what was I supposed to say? “Hey Nate, guess what. I saved a life today. I have this amazing power that lets me heal things. But I can’t fix your spine because it doesn’t work on humans. By the way, can I invite my troll friend over for dinner?”

He pressed a button on his chair and it began to back around the desk again. “Go get some dinner. I left lasagna in the oven for you.”

I carried the cat to the kitchen and found a can of tuna for him, making a mental note to pick up some food for him tomorrow. Daisy followed us and I poured some food into her dish before I popped my own dinner in the microwave.