I was almost back home from town when my phone vibrated again. There had been two texts and one missed call while I was out of the house, and there wasn't anyone else it could be. Setting the thought aside, I walked up the garden path to our neighbour's patio and knocked on the door.

As part of her job, my mother often used local businesses to supply the events she was expected to organise. Her preference was to support and promote nearby businesses before using any kind of chain stores. This included the butcher at the strip mall about three minutes walk from our house. Her loyalty to the community was appreciated by the owner, and the second he recognised me as her son, he was willing to listen to my request.

A story about two new dogs and a dislike of manufactured pet food were good enough to convince him. I had no idea what sort of meat a dragon would like, but he didn't ask too many following questions and his advice was still useful. Regardless, a package of offcuts at no charge was a good deal, and I gladly accepted it.

Now, I needed somewhere to put it that wasn't our freezer.

"Well, hello Torsten." Mrs Sterling opened the door. An elderly widow in her 70s, she was the textbook example of a little old lady. Straight silver hair was piled into a bun on top of the head, she was a bit hunched over, with slightly clouded rheumy eyes, a long nose, a lot of wrinkles and a pair of full-moon spectacles. Her voice had a sing-song quality and a slight quaver to it, and she could be a little addle-minded at times, but generally speaking she was pleasant company and generous to a fault. "What brings you over to visit?"

"Hi, Mrs Sterling. I'm sorry to bother you."

"It's quite okay, dear. I was just baking some cookies. They're cooling right now. Would you like one?"

"Uh, no, I'm fine but thank you for offering." I lifted the paper-wrapped bundle of offcuts. "I was wondering if I could ask a favour. Our freezer doesn't have much room and, well, we need somewhere to store this puppy food."

"Oh, of course, dear!" She ushered me through the lounge and kitchen to a pantry area with a big chest freezer in the corner. "No idea why I bought this thing -- silly me! -- I have so much space to spare."

She took the parcel and stowed it in one end of the unit. "Any time you need to come in here, just use the back door. The key is underneath the little statue; the base is hollow."

"Thanks, Mrs Sterling." We walked through to the front door. "I really do appreciate it."

"It's no problem, Torsten. Say hello to your mother for me." She smiled sweetly. "Don't forget, if you ever need anything, I'm right next door."

"Thanks!" I waved to her and trotted back up the path and out to the road.

Yeah, don't think I'm going to need much help unless she's a world expert on interacting with dragons.

I dumped the second smaller parcel on the kitchen bench, containing today's meal. First though, I needed to take care of something else; something that now seemed a lot more trivial given what was currently going on.

Lucy.

Flopping down on my bed, I opened my phone and read her last text. All it said was: have you got the sand out of yr panties yet??

It was exactly what I expected from her, and there was only one way to respond -- in kind.

Me: yes but only if youve got the stick out of your butt

It took about twenty seconds for her to see the new message and reply.

Her: you should try it, you might like it  Brt in 5 mins.

I rolled my eyes. Should have known better than to try that line out.

Her house was close enough that I could usually guess, to within about ten or twenty seconds, when she would arrive. She was also the only person that never knocked, being loved by my mother and treated like family. I heard the front door open and the sound of her moving through the house, then her dramatic entrance into my room. The door flew open, bouncing off the wall with a low thud, and she flounced across and plopped onto the bed next to me.

"Um, sure, have a seat I guess?" The mockery was thick, with a gesturing wave of the arms to her and the bed. "Make yourself at home."

"Thanks," she beamed, her immunity to the deployment of tactical sarcasm on full display, "but we aren't here to discuss the ridiculous softness of your comforter." She leaned forward, like she was about to accuse me of murder, tone a mixture of demanding and thoughtful. "So tell me, what in the hell is your problem exactly? Was it the movie thing? Or bookstore-boy? Or did someone just shit in your cereal this morning?"

"What? Bookstore-boy? Uh, his name is Theo, and-"

"Theo." She switched to a faux snobby English accent. "How delightful."

Ugh! "This. This is what I'm tired of, Lu!" I frowned, folding my arms as she waited for elaboration. "Look, I'm sorry if I snapped at you earlier, but you need to slow this shit down sometimes. You know it takes a lot to get me to react, but this is not helping."

"You're probably right. I wasn't trying to piss you off. Sorry if I was an annoying bitch, it gets played up from time to time." She slid her arms around me from the side, drawing me into a hug. "You're about the only person I don't like arguing with, but ... you gotta remember that I won't leave this alone. Until you can look me in the eye with a straight face and say: 'Lucy, I am in no way attracted to boys', I will continue as I have."

"Right," I grumbled. "Why would I expect anything else?"

"Seriously though," She let go and sat back a bit, "is something going on with you? You know you can tell me if there is."

"Well, um, would you be angry if there sorta, kinda, was?"

"No." She was sincere and surprisingly not-talkative. "If there's anything to say though, you should."

"Well, I-"

There, I stopped.

I wasn't sure what to say to her.

Tell her the truth? Show her what I've found?

I wanted to share my experience with someone I trusted, but at the same time I wanted to learn more first. The thought also occurred to me that the more people knew, the harder it would be to keep information from getting out. While it was still just me, the secret was safest. Maybe I had to keep it that way, for the start at least.

"-I don't really know how to tell you. I mean, I had this really fucking weird dream," I began to talk quickly, almost babbling, but had to express it somehow. "There was this voice and it was dark, and today at the bookstore, there was this moment with the word, and then later I went on this walk and- ... and I- ... fuck. I know this makes no sense, because what I've just said sounds like crazy talk, but ... can you trust me that I'm okay? Please?"

"Crazy talk, huh." Her expression was calculating and she certainly didn't seem to be arguing with the 'crazy' part. "So, you want to keep it to yourself and not share with me, your bestest of friends, this information about your life that I should rightfully know. Mhmmm. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this definitely is a favour, and what does the law of equivalent exchange have to say about that?"

"Oh god," I groaned, clenching a fistful of bedsheet. "What do you want from me?"

Lucy had the most syrupy goofy smile I could imagine. "You," she cooed, candy-sweet, "have to text Theo."

"Really?" I squeaked. "That- ... that's it?"

"Nope. Nuh-uh." She went on, nailing me with a look that was simultaneously saccharine and extortive. "You have to be nice, you have to try to make friends, and you can only stop when you come clean about what's going on, or ... if you can tell me, truthfully, that you liiiike him."

"Okay, okay! I'll text him. You're still too hopeful. I've never said anything about boys."

"You've never said anything about girls either." Smug as ever. "Until that day comes ... "

"Go home, bitch."

"Jock."

"Ouch! That one hurts!" I stuck my tongue out. "I'm definitely not a jock."

"I know, your brain actually works." She glanced down at her phone, checking the time. "You're right though, I do need to go home. The old man is making ribs and he was yelling at me not to be long when I left." She pocketed it into her cutoff jeans and stood. "You can come over, if you want. He always makes too much anyways."

"I'm fine, mom left something for me, and I need to take a shower and do school stuff."

"Whatever you want, though if you change your mind, you better be quick." She turned and waltzed out the bedroom door, her voice floating down the hall. "See you on Monday. Don't forget to text! You promised!"

"Yeah, yeah. Bye!"

I listened to her depart, the front door slamming and footsteps fading away. That was actually less painful than I was expecting. Sitting up, I grabbed a bath towel from off the top of my dresser and stripped off my hoodie. Underneath it, the t-shirt was ruined. The hoodie was thick enough to not really notice the damage, but the shirt? It was littered with slits in the fabric and I could feel the air moving through the perforations. Stripping off the t-shirt too, I took a good look at myself.

Scattered from groin to collarbone were a score of little curved triangular punctures. There was a rough pattern to them that showed where the hands and feet had been, and though none were bleeding, some had light bruising around them and were still oozing red. Seeing myself shirtless in the mirror was more than a bit creepy; it looked like someone had stabbed me in the front a bunch of times with a really little knife.

"Dragon claws," I whispered to myself. It did this without even meaning to. It wasn't trying to hurt me, it just happened. Collateral damage. Then it occurred to me, the latent concern and apprehension and buried sense of foreboding coming right to the front. If this is what it does unintentionally, what might it do when it gets larger? What might it do if it gets ... angry?

"Fuck." A disheartened mumble and I sighed, dabbing at a cut that had narrowly missed my left nipple. A droplet of blood ran down my index finger, and across my palm, leaving a trail over the number written in red biro.

Shit! Theo's number. Need to get this down while I can still read it. Opening up the address book on my phone, I punched it in and saved it for later. Grabbing the towel once more, I stood, took a step and ...

... looked back at my nightstand, where my cellphone was sitting.

Then to the door.

Then my phone.

I ... did promise her. I should keep that promise.

Shouldn't I?

Ah, to hell with it.

I sat down again, created a new text message, addressed it to Theo, put in one word and hit send.

Hi.