Four
We’d docked at Bainbridge Island, crossed the Hood Canal, and now trekked northwest across the Olympic peninsula. I’d given up trying to figure out where we were going. Unless I’d totally misjudged Tate’shakuna matatareference, which was impossible, we should be heading somewhere that would at least remind me of Africa. If it had been me, we’d have gone to Woodland Park Zoo. But unless there was an eccentric guy with a personal pride of wild cats, I was lost.
Which I could now care less about. Unwinding the mystery of our destination took zero priority. I had no mental energy to invest in the surprise, as my heart hung low in my chest. For the most part, I’d stared out the window and watched the pine trees whiz by. Let the conversation wash over me and swirl around the van. Occasionally I’d peek at Tate out of the corner of my eye. I always found him the same. Silent. Observant. Studying me like a chord transition that he didn’t understand.
My stomach would sink a bit deeper. I was overreacting. So a friend wanted to see me happy. That was sweet, right? But no matter how many times I told myself his motives had been driven because he cared about me, I couldn’t shake the anchor wrapped around my soul.
If anyone knew me, knew my introvertedness, my desire to avoid crowds, my struggle with small talk, my need for time away from…everything, it was Tate. Even if it wasn’t true, the revelation of the setup, the basis for his reason to make this bet in the first place, felt like a rejection. Like him sayingI know who you are, but you need to change, when all this time I thought he liked me for who I was.
If not for the other part of the bet, the one where he had to send out demos for each of these little adventures I went on, I’d call the whole thing off. I didn’t need to win that badly, even if I was more-than-slightly competitive. Tate had talent, and the world needed to hear his music. He just required a kick in the pants to get over his fear of rejection or whatever it was that held him back.
My lips curved as I eyed him again. Too bad that kick couldn’t be literal.
“We’re here,” Carla announced as she turned into a long drive.
Olympic Animal Park. Wait. I’d heard of this place before. It was kind of like a safari but with mostly northwest animals, except for the addition of zebras.
I turned to Tate.
His smile looked uncertain, and I knew he was still stuck on our exchange on the boat. I had to convince him everything was all right. Reaching out, I gripped his forearm and squeezed. “This is amazing.”
The corners of his eyes lost some of the tightness, relaxing into genuine pleasure. “Your safari awaits, m’lady.” He leaned in. “I promise you—things are so much better experienced in real life than in bound paperback.”
Not all things, but this, maybe.
We paid for ten loaves of bread from the attendant at the gate, and Carla drove the van up the hill, following the dirt circle that wove through the property. All the windows rolled down, and I leaned forward in anticipation. Everyone else did too. We were like a group of kids at the coolest petting zoo ever.
“Look at that.” Jim laughed and pointed out the windshield. A pack of some sort of long-horned cows or yaks or something blocked the cattle guard into the field. Carla eased over the metal rungs, and a black wet nose poked into Jim’s window as soon as the front tires cleared the guard. He pinched a piece of bread in his fingers and offered it to the animal, who whipped out his long tongue, curled it around the offering, and brought it to his mouth.
I laughed at Jim’s girlish squeal, the last vestiges of tension hovering around me leaving with the sound, but stopped short when a large head lowered into my window and tried to take off with the entire loaf of bread lying in my lap. “Oh no you don’t.” I wrestled the plastic bag away from the aggressive llama and offered him half a piece as consolation.
The llamas, we discovered, were the most devious. It was like they’d planned these heists and enacted them thousands of times before. Which they probably had. One would take a kamikaze stand in the middle of the road, slowing Carla and allowing the other the swoop in the window for a score. We were dying with laughter from their antics and eventually rolled up the windows any time a llama was in sight.
Tate looked at me, eyes dancing, full grin in place. He’d done this. For me. Even if the day was a setup, he was still my friend. Still had spent the time and energy to transport me beyond the pages of a book to a real-life experience. I smiled at him, glad we seemed to be back on steady footing.
The zebras were next, but they were more interested in grazing than in what we had to offer. Around a bend, a fence was erected near the road.
“I wonder what’s in those.” Sydney pointed to the fenced-off pastures.
We didn’t have to wait long. A huge Kodiak bear sat up from its lounging position and watched us.
“Carla, stop.” Tate grabbed the side of her chair. “I read about these bears. If you wave at them, they’ll wave back.”
“But the ranger said not to stop.”
“Then go really slow.”
Carla made the van crawl along while the rest of us in the back pressed up against the side window and waved like mad. I was sure we made a hilarious sight, four grown faces huddled in the back, hands flying back and forth.
A large paw lifted. Excited, I grabbed three pieces of bread and flung them at the bear. Should have thought about the close quarters first. Maybe then I could have spared Tate an elbow to the nose.
“Sorry,” I said as he cupped a hand over the center of his face.
“It’s fine, but here.” He widened his legs in a spread-eagle pose and pulled me by the arm to sit in the tiny triangle of seat he’d exposed. I was more in his lap than the seat, but as the bear waved again, I decided I didn’t care.
Carla continued to inch forward, and soon the bears were behind us. I shifted to return to my own seat but found it filled by Sydney. Now what? I could go back by Landon, but the rear windows didn’t go down. I’d miss a chance to feed the next animals.
“You want me to move so you have more room?” Tate was so close his warm breath fanned the tendrils of hair at my neck.
