Page 19 of Claimed By The Orc

“That was Chelsea. She just picked up the girls from school and will meet us there.”

I nodded. Chelsea was his sisters’ nanny, though he called her a babysitter. I did not understand that phrase, as neither of his sisters were babies, but humans were strange sometimes.

“C’mon. It’s time for you to meet my family.” He took my hand again, which would never not thrill me, and we walked back to the living area. He paused at his mother and separated from my grip so he could adjust the blanket that had shifted on her. He watched her with a sad smile, as the woman barely moved. He kissed her head. “Rest, Mom. I’ll take plenty of pictures.”

He walked away, once again taking my hand, and we left.

The town of Destiny was small, and while Tanner did have an automobile—a truck he’d called it—as well as his mom’s van, he rarely ever used them. Which pleased me because I was still not used to the contraptions. You were locked in a metal tubegoing at intense speeds. My research had shown how dangerous they were, and I had seen many videos of gruesome accidents. I would prefer that Tanner never used one at all, but when I’d suggested it, he’d laughed in my face. I guessed the idea of a day-long walk to get to his mother’s appointment was not pleasing to him. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with carriages, but apparently humans no longer used them.

The weather was nice, as Tanner had explained, so we walked to the high school, it was called, to see his brother Jake play baseball. I had looked up the game when I’d been invited, and we had something that was similar. It made me pleased that I should be able to follow the game at least somewhat.

In under ten minutes, we were coming across a large brick building. In front was a sign that read:Destiny Memorial High School. Home of the Mustangs. I pulled out the phone that Tanner had helped me buy. It gave me access to the Google everywhere, not only at the Cunninghams’ home, which I was glad for now as I looked up what a mustang was.

“Oh, like a rhipponek but with four legs.”

Tanner tilted his head. “A rhipponek?”

“It is an animal back home, similar to your horses, I think. They have six legs though.”

“Wow. That’s . . . wow.” I didn’t know what wow meant, but he did not seem upset, so I put my phone back in the pocket of my polka-dot pants I’d found in something called a thrift store.

“You know I love hearing about your home, but when we’re at the game, try not to mention that, okay?”

Right. I was just an everyday human who was temporarily living in town for business. That was what we’d decided I should tell people.

“Okay,” I replied easily. I understood why I had to pretend to be a human. It was why I’d been given the magical bangle to begin with. We all knew how dangerous it could be if otherspecies found out about our existence and found a way to infiltrate our world.

We walked through the lot filled with automobiles. Young ones lingered, some sitting on the tops of the vehicles or in the beds of the ones that were trucks. Other children were on the grassy field on the side of the school, kicking a black-and-white ball. None of them paid us any mind as we kept walking back.

“That’s the soccer field,” Tanner whispered to me. “Do you know what soccer is?”

I shook my head but remembered the name so I could research it later. “Back there, you see those yellow posts that are sticking up?”

It was in the distance, but they were clear. “Yes.”

“That’s the football field,” Tanner explained a little excitedly. “That was what I played.”

I could tell it meant a lot to him, and I wanted to ask so many questions. “I want to learn all about it. Do you still play?”

Tanner deflated, and a flash of sadness spread across his features. “No.”

He didn’t say anything else, and even I realized this wasn’t the time to press.

We crossed the soccer field and were then standing in front of a fenced in area. A diamond of sorts was painted in white, and a mound of sand sat in the middle of it. All around, children in two different colored uniforms were standing. Some were stretching. Some were tossing a white ball—baseball, my brain supplied—to each other, catching it in brown mitts. Along the other end of the fence, players were swinging the wooden sticks the humans called bats.

Tanner paused at the fence, where many other families were also mingling about. He scanned the field and then grinned and pointed to where two boys tossed the ball to each other on the far end. “The dark-haired one with his back to us is Jake!” Tannertold me proudly. I chose not to remind him that I knew well what Jake looked like. “His number is 6.” Then a little quieter, he added, “That was my football number.”

That also meant something to Tanner. Something I did not understand now, but I would. Unsure what to do or say, but wanting to fix Tanner’s sadness, I squeezed his hand and leaned into his shoulder.

Just then, the boy with Jake saw us and said something to Tanner’s brother. He turned around and, upon seeing us, broke out into a huge smile and even waved. He looked so much like Tanner at that moment, it warmed my heart.

Tanner laughed. “He’s so corny.” But he waved back, and I could feel how proud he was of Jake.

“C’mon, Chelsea said she was saving us a spot in the bleachers. I can introduce you to Lucy, Mia, and Kenzie.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Everything felt perfect as we walked over to the metal benches Tanner had called bleachers and up to a young woman with three young girls hanging all over her.

---