During the next couple of weeks, the strange things in my life stayed unexplained. The dragon continued to grow at an alarming rate. After the first week, it was bigger than a large adult Great Dane, and by the end of the second, it had reached a similar size and mass to a small pony. The dog bed was gone, not suitable any more, and a pile of blankets had been laid down instead. While there was still room inside the shed for it to be comfortable, I shifted a lot of the cluttered contents into the attic to make space. Whatever was easily flammable or taking up floor area, I found another home for it.

Food was also starting to be a concern. The butcher had been fine giving me more offcuts, but as its appetite increased, I knew the story of feeding growing puppies would wear thin fast if I was going back for more every day or two. Still, the dragon seemed to be content with how things were going, and even though it was basically stuck indoors, it wasn't unhappy. I guessed at a younger age, the feeling of being in a lair was appealing; a dark confined space, a source of food and a guardian figure that provided it with some attention probably appealed to its racial instincts. I had no idea what 'racial instincts' really meant with a creature like this, since my favourite fantasy novels that included dragons weren't actually a scientific guide on how to raise them, but it seemed I was doing okay so far.

Regardless, what was going to happen to it in the future was definitely stressing me out. I lost some sleep over it, and I was sure Lucy was noticing that I was more tired than normal. She kept her word and didn't bug me about it, and I continued to keep mine too.

Theo.

I don't know what it was, but his behaviour changed after he had made Brittany leave us alone in the school cafeteria. It wasn't anything major, but it felt like he had backed off a bit. He was acting more like a normal teenager, and less the mystery that he'd been when I first encountered him. We would text a lot, almost as much as I did with Lucy, and I found he had a very dry sense of humour and a sharp wit. He joined us a couple of times after school, when a few of us would kick around a soccer ball on one of the empty fields until we got bored and went home. He was definitely as athletic as he appeared to be, and while he was fast, he had little finesse with ball control, though great at blocking; well-suited for defence. I was accustomed to a balance and had stamina, making me a good match for midfield, while Lucy was extremely fast with the footwork and great at trick shots. Whenever we played sides, if all three of us were on the same team, we were basically unbeatable.

It was a lot of fun.

He began to sit with us every day at lunch too, and it didn't escape my notice that he always managed to find a spot next to me. He kept the way he was acting very incognito, and I was sure the other less-aware members of our social group weren't seeing it, but I could tell he was giving me special attention. He never pressed it though, and weirdly, Lucy also never said anything. Just as I could tell that he was giving me space, she must have been able to as well, but she was also showing an extraordinary amount of self-discipline in not bugging me nor dropping the sort of hints I'd expect from her.

Still, as I walked home on a Thursday afternoon, sweater draped over my arm in the warmth, a bit sweaty from running around the sports field, I was thinking about everything, and I had come to a strange conclusion. I wasn't expecting to feel anything different; maybe happiness that I was making a new friend, or enjoyment because of attention paid to me, or just flattered that I was important to someone else.

But, I was beginning to like it.

I couldn't quite explain it, but I wanted to keep Theo's attention. He was funny, he was interesting, he was easy to hang out with, he was respectful of me and my space. I knew he was interested in me; to deny that was to be completely blind to what was happening. He was doing everything right, and on top of that, he was ... good-looking. He was a bit more muscular than me but not too bulky; one of those strong almost-but-not-quite-football-player builds, tall for our age, probably 6'1, and with pleasant masculine facial features that seemed to soften a little at the edges. I knew girls thought he was hot, and objectively I had no problem agreeing with that, but ...

... what did I feel?

Whatever was happening, I wanted it to continue.

I just didn't know yet if my attraction was physical, emotional, or ... nothing at all.

This is so confusing. Being a teenager sucks.

I walked past Mrs Sterling trimming the hedge out the front of our property. It was the same as the one in front of hers, the row continuing unbroken along both houses. She enjoyed gardening, and I had seen her tend to ours many times, something my mother was grateful for and happy to let her continue doing. The blades of the clippers sliced rhythmically, and she looked up as I went by.

"Good afternoon, dear."

"Afternoon, Mrs Sterling." I smiled politely, and opened the front gate. As I was closing it, there was the sound of a vehicle, and I glanced up to see a courier van pull up to the curb. The engine stopped, the driver's door opening, and the driver climbed out.

I didn't know what it was, but in that split second, something made me extremely nervous. Just the sight of this man triggered a gut reaction. Before I saw his face, I had a glimpse of his back; tall, strong, serious and no-nonsense, very short brown hair swept away from his temples, dressed in the courier company uniform.

In that moment, there was something about him that seemed wrong.

It was only a hunch, but it was very powerful and all my instincts were telling me not to let him near me.

I couldn't stand there.

Hide.

I dropped to the ground just as he was turning to look at our property, going out of sight.

Shit.

The van door closed and there were footsteps. I pulled myself closer to the fence, and twisted so I was comfortably prone, then found a teeny gap in the hedgerow that lined up. The footsteps came closer, and the man strode past my view. He was carrying a parcel, and just as he was about to reach the gate, I heard Mrs Sterling speak up.

"Oh, hello young man." Her voice was as unassuming as ever, high and wavering. "Are you looking for someone?"

There was the light clink of the latch and I could see his hand resting along the top bar, even as I lay there, just out of sight. My heart was pounding, my bag clutched to my chest, and I lay frozen.

"Yes." His voice was deep and sober. "I have a parcel for the Wilde household. This is the correct address?"

"Oh, yes!" Her voice rose in agreement, and the latch clinked again as his fingers pressed at the top of it, about to lift it and push the gate open.

Don't come in. Please don't come in.

"You can leave the package with me," she went on, a merry sing-song intonation. "I'll make sure they get it."

The hand on the latch stopped. "It is a delivery for Ms Wilde, not anybody else." There was no hostility in the voice, but the answer was very definite, very specific.

"Oh no, dear." I saw her totter along closer to him. "It's not a problem. Natalia has me co-sign sometimes so she doesn't need to worry about it. It's quite safe."

"All the same," he countered, his fingers grasping the latch once more, "I will deliver it to this residence."

She laughed, a high-pitched titter. "Now, that wouldn't be right, son." At the finish of that sentence, her voice changed, and it became firm and quite unyielding, the oscillating seniority vanishing. "There is nobody here, so if you have something to deliver, I will take it. If not," she went on, and I heard the snick of the shears flicking shut, "you should leave."

What the ... ?

I couldn't fully see either of them, and there was silence for another few seconds, but then I heard an irritated grunt. "I'll come back another time." The hand pulled away from the gate, and there were footsteps and a glimpse of him as he returned to the courier van.

"Oh, of course. You have a lovely day." As if nothing was different, she continued speaking as earlier, calling out to him as he left. "Bye bye!"

The engine started and in a few moments, the van was cruising off down the street. Not more than thirty seconds later, I heard her voice.

"You can get up now."

I stood, slowly, my legs cramping slightly from the afternoon soccer and lying in such a weird position. Mrs Sterling was gazing at my direction, shears under her arm, secateurs in hand as she pruned some of the stray branching hedge shoots.

"Don't you worry, I wasn't going to let him see you."

"Mrs Sterling-" I started, but she quickly interrupted me.

"Best you go inside now." She pointed me in the direction of our front door. "I doubt he's going to come back soon, but you can't trust ruffians these days. Everyone has a trick up their sleeve, don't they? So go on and get, and stay there for a while."

"I-"

"Go!" She shooed me, and confused, I started moving, but then she spoke again. "You're a good boy, but you shouldn't forget how dangerous wild animals can be."

What?

I looked back at her, not sure what to make of all of this.

Why does this shit keep happening to me?

"Go inside." She said it very soft and serious. "Don't let your curiosity get the better of you. You don't have nine lives, Torsten."

For once, I didn't question further. I marched up to the front door, unlocked it, went in, and drew it swiftly shut.

What is going ON?