Page 70 of Tracked
“I wonder what Dr. Julia said to Sarah. Maybe we should’ve snuck back out and tried to listen,” I blurted out, needing more space to breathe.
Calder’s frown made his opinion about that idea clear. “Do you remember the hummingbird that got trapped in your garage?”
I blinked, the long-ago memory coming back suddenly. “Yeah.”
It was spring semester, and one of my housemates had left the garage door open. The hummingbird had flown inside, and I couldn’t get it to fly out. Just as I was trying to swat it out with a broom, Calderhad pulled up with Rachel in the passenger seat; she’d wanted to borrow a skirt of mine.
While he’d jerry-rigged my roommate’s tennis racket onto the end of a broom, Calder explained that hummingbirds are attracted to the color red and get drawn in by the red release handle on the garage-door motor. Then, with an abundance of patience, he coaxed the bird onto the racket frame, and after about fifteen minutes of trying, he carried it to freedom.
“Do you know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten it out?”
I had the sense that this was a trick question, but I answered anyway. “It would’ve become our garage pet.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “It would’ve died.”
“What?” I jolted. “I’m sure it would’ve flown out eventually.”
I knew I was wrong by the slow, nearly immovable shake of his head.
“When hummingbirds sense danger, their instinct is to fly up, not out. It would’ve continued to fly up into that corner of the garage to try and escape, land on the tracks of the garage door when it got tired, and then fly for the corner again until it exhausted itself to death.”
“That’s . . . horrible.”
The tragedy of that scenario struck me first. For the small bird to die of exhaustion when a wide-open door was only a few feet away seemed ... unbelievable.
“Always doing something doesn’t mean it’s the right thing.”
My shoulders tensed, ready to reject his insinuation. “Doing something is better than doing nothing.”
“Is it? For whom?” Before I could reply, he added, “Is flying endlessly upward better than stopping to take stock of the situation? Is the hummingbird only worth something because it kept putting in the effort until the effort killed it?”
Suddenly, the open sanctuary felt suffocating. Stuffy with things I didn’t want to think about, let alone think he could see in me: a hummingbird that never stopped trying—that never stopped flying.Until it almost killed me.
A wash of guilt stained my mind as I wondered, for the umpteenth time, whether I’d caused this. Had Rachel ended up here because I’d made her feel like she wasn’t doing enough?
“I think we need to put some distance between us,” Calder said. “In front of Maxwell.”
Of course. It made total sense, and I should 100 percent, completely agree, especially after what had just happened at the group session. My body was still thrumming from the heat of him—the hardness. I should welcome any reason for distance.So why did it feel like he’d just ripped the rug right out from underneath me?
The ball in my throat inflated. “What do you mean?”
“She mentioned targeting Sarah and Trent because they’d argued during their first session. If we can provoke the same reaction, we might find out what the Garden and EC is sooner.”
“Yeah. That could work.”
A sound drew Calder’s attention, and I quickly joined him on the blanket as Dr. Julia’s footsteps sounded along the path for a few seconds before she entered the clearing.
“Lara, Calder. Thank you for joining me.” She came and sat in front of us, and I noticed a distinct dilation in her pupils. I wondered how many of those smoothie shots she’d had that morning, or if she’d made herself something stronger.
“I want to say, I was very impressed with your intimate work this morning. That is the kind of connection I like to see—to feel—in those sessions.” Her gaze wove between Calder and me. “Tell me, Calder, did you feel the electric tether of your wild core to Lara’s?”
Felt it or faked it?Because as much as I’d thought he’d felt it, he’d certainly become all business right after.
“Yes,” he answered after a beat, and I searched for the lie seamed into his voice but came up empty.
It was still a lie, though. It had to be.
“Good.” Dr. Julia beamed and looked to me, and I braced myself to answer the same question. “And you, Lara—I know you felt it, too,”she continued, surprising me with the assumption. “You felt it, and you tried to resist it. Why?”
