A few kids crowd around me, looking me up and down. It’s like they can sense that I don’t belong here, but instead of driving them away, it’s made me the target of all their attention.
One boy, maybe five or six, steps closer. He’s got a wild mane of brown curls and a streak of blue marker on his face. His shirt is too big, and he looks like the type who would be constantly falling into puddles. He’s clutching a toy dragon, and his eyes widen as they lock onto me.
“Do you fight dragons?” he asks, voice full of wonder. “You look like a knight.”
I blink down at him. “What?”
The other kids go quiet, like they’re interested in my response.
I glance toward Romilly, hoping for some sort of rescue, but she’s still helping that kid with the drawing, completely oblivious. Wincing, I answer the kid. “Oh, yeah. I fight dragons all the time, mate.”
His eyes widen even more, and a girl next to him gasps. “You do?” she whispers, as if I’ve just confessed to being some kind of superhero.
I nod slowly. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t fight them like—” I struggle for the right words, something that won’t get me in trouble with the parents later. “—like hitting them or anything. It’s more strategy. You’ve got to outsmart the dragon.”
A girl wearing a princess dress jumps in. “How?”
“Not with swords, obviously. Dragons fight with fire. So, you know, you have to put out the fire before they can spread it.”
That earns me a chorus of “oohs,” and I try to relax my shoulders. Apparently, that was a good answer.
“But how do you do it?” the boy with the dragon toy presses. He’s looking at me like I’m his new favorite person in the world.
“Water, of course. You put out the dragon’s fire with water. That’s their weakness.”
The boy gasps, clutching his toy even tighter. “Like the ocean?”
I nod, catching Romilly’s eye as she watches us. There’s a tiny smile on her lips that makes me wonder if she’s just as amused by my tale as the kids are.
“Yeah, like the ocean,” I say, forcing a grin. “Dragons hate the ocean.”
“And why not swords?” another kid asks. “I thought all knights use swords.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Swords? Nah. That’s too messy. Like I said, you’ve got tooutsmartthe dragon first. Dragons are really stubborn, you know. They think they’re so much smarter than everyone else, but they’re really just controlling. So you have to make them think they’re winning, before you can finally break free.” It takes me a moment to realize how low my voice is. I take a steadying breath when my mum and dad’s faces come to mind.Relax, Bash. No need to get so intense about it.
But the boy nods solemnly, like I’ve just imparted some ancient wisdom.
Romilly finally walks over, crossing her arms. Her green eyes flash with amusement. “Bash, I didn’t realize you were such a dragon expert.”
I shoot her a teasing grin. “There’s plenty you don’t know about me.”
Romilly blushes, and her gaze jumps back to the kids. “Alright, everyone, why don’t we finish up our drawings before song time?”
There’s a chorus of excitement as the kids scramble back to their tables.
“Thank you for your help,” she says. “You really didn’t have to do this. I could have found someone else, but I’m still really grateful.”
“Well, you’re not bad company, you know.”
She fights a smile with impressive effort. “You mean, you’re not sick of me yet? After the week we had at work?”
“No way.”
She shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s only a matter of time.”
Romilly saunters off before I can respond. “We’ll see,” I murmur to myself.
What she doesn’t realize is how much each moment I’ve spent with her is only making me want more. But I know deep down getting sick of her would be better for both of us. Me, because I don’t need any distractions right now, and her because I’ve disappointed everyone else in my life. My parents, when I became a fighter. The church, when I made decisions that labeled me a bad influence. My friends, when their parents told them not to talk to me anymore. The list goes on.
