So her cousins and her aunt and everyone else needed to mind their own business and let her wallow in peace.
But Leif was on a roll. ‘Doesn’t everyone stare longingly out the window whenever their best friend goes home?’ Leif gave a lovelorn sigh.
‘Shut up!’ Asta snapped. ‘You don’t know what I’m thinking about.’
Leif grabbed the rooster basket from the rug and threw it back at Asta. She ducked, and it hit the wall behind her.
‘Leif!’ Aunt Alice scolded. ‘Cut it out.’
Talking about Felix made Asta feel like she was going to throw up. Being in love was awful. She could barely stand to be around him and barely stand to be apart from him. She wasn’t even sure shewantedthose feelings for Felix. She wished there was a cure. There were things she wanted to do before she fell in love, but it didn’t seem to matter what she wanted. She could not convince her brain to think about anything else.
‘We’re just friends,’ Asta said miserably, but Leif leaned over and whispered something to Gem that made him nod sagely and give Asta a pitying look.
‘Idiot.’ Asta looked around for something else to throw.
‘Dragons are trouble,’ Grandpop said, moving to stand behind Grandma’s chair. ‘Ekenbergs don’t truck with dragons.’
‘It’s nothing serious, Dad,’ Mama said again. ‘It’s just a bit of fun.’
Asta’s chest clenched. ‘Stop saying that! I told you I’m going to be a dragon rider.’
‘Cool!’ Hadi grinned.
‘Hard to make a living that way,’ Aunt Leona said, scuffing her toe on the floor.
Asta rolled her eyes. ‘As opposed to what? Farming?’
Looks of exasperation passed between Papa and Uncle Carl.
‘It’s a legitimate career. I don’t understand why this family can’t justsupportme,’ Asta said. But they all just seemed to pity her. ‘You know what? I don’t care what you think. I don’t care. I hate farming. I hate it. The only thing I have ever wanted to do is ride.’ Her eyes were filling with tears. ‘And you have Leif. Why do you need me?’
‘Hey, leave me out of it,’ Leif muttered.
Asta wiped her eyes. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t care. Leif can have the whole farm. Congratulations.’
‘Sweet.’ Leif’s quiet word sounded loud in the silence.
Asta was sobbing now. ‘Great, now everyone’s happy. The rest of you can get off my back!’ She ran for the front door, slamming it behind her.
She sprinted down the lane, past Papa’s tractor parked at the edge of the new-mown hayfield.
She was out of breath by the time she reached the road to Medley and slowed to a trudge. Alone in the road, she screamed her anger to the sun as loud as she could. From the fields of the Seraphin Estate, a dragon roared back. She knew the voice.
She quickened her pace again, up the wide driveway to the Seraphin mansion. Carmine, her favorite dragon, met her at the gate of the pasture. Asta unlatched the gate and stood back to let him through. He paused before exiting, nosing her body as if checking for injury.
‘I’m okay, buddy,’ she said, running her hands down his neck and shoulders; the smooth feel of the scales under her palms calmed her a little. ‘Just having a hard day.’
He puffed hot breath through his nostrils and kept inspecting her.
‘It’s my birthday today,’ she added. She kissed his long nose and ran her fingers through the feathery tuft at his chin. Asta knew that she was supposed to ask permission before taking one of the Seraphins’ dragons out for a ride, but she would deal with the consequences later. ‘Come on,’ she said to Carmine. She waved him forward.
Carmine walked through the gate, his side rubbing on the post with a muted clicking sound. She halted him with a hand on his wing so that she could close the gate behind him. He stopped, docile under her touch. The dragon had only reached full size this year and would let no one except Asta put a saddle on him.
But today, she did not bother him with any kind of tack at all. Checking to see if anyone was watching her, Asta took hold of his wing, found a toehold at the ankle of his foreleg, and climbed on Carmine’s bare back.
They skirted the stables and rode through the grassy meadow that stretched up the hill toward the woods and the rocky mountain beyond. Summertime meant that the meadow was full of flowers– coreopsis and wild carrot bobbed their heads under the long grasses gone to seed.
Asta was still mad. How could her parents be so stupid? She had never wanted to live like they did. It was so boring. All they talked about was the weather, the prices at market, the fences that needed mending, the latest automatic feeder technology. How could they think that she cared about that stuff? Didn’t they know her at all?
