Page 2 of Bound By Earth (The Nature Hunters Academy 1)

“I know they loved you,” Carol said in that same calm voice, ignoring the rage Tara was aiming at her. “I know if I had a child, and they’d been spared, then I’d want them to go on without me andlead a full, happylife.”

“I shouldn’t have to go on without them. I’m a kid. They’re the parents. They’re supposed to take care of me. They’re supposed to be here. But they’re not.” Tara’s lips trembled as she spoke, and her voice cracked. She opened her mouth to say something else, but there was really nothing else to say, so she turned and ran down the porch steps and away from the house. Tara ran toward the park she’d seen earlier when the social worker had brought her to Carol’s house that morning. Tara didn’t want to hear anything else because nothing Carol said would make things better. Tara had no idea why she hadn’t been killed in the crash, but she didn’t believe it was because there was some grand plan for her life. She wasn’t anyone special. She was just Tara Thompson, once upon a time the only child to Rebecca and Jason Thompson and now orphan. She was just a lost girl with nothing and noone.

When her feet hit the dirt of the park, she finally slowed. She walked over to the swings and plopped down onto one. She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees, and placed her face in her hands. Everything hurt. Not because of the accident—her injuries caused her virtually no pain whatsoever—but because there was a huge, empty hole inside of her, and it felt like her body was being pulled apart and flung into that hole piece by piece. There was no support to hold everythingtogether.

“You weren’t supposed to die,” she whispered through the tears. “You’re supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to be alone.” They were words she’d repeated over and over since she’d awoken in the hospital. But no matter how many times she said them, they wouldn’t bring her parentsback.

“Who are you talkingto?”

Tara’s head snapped up, startled by the voice of another girl. Suddenly, sitting in the swing next to her, was a girl about Tara’s own age. She had blonde hair, big green eyes, and an inquisitive expression that was full of honest curiosity.The girl was kind of gangly with her extra-long limbs, and she looked a bit awkward sitting in theswing.

“Are you okay?” The girl’s expression changed from one of curiosity to concern. “Are you hurt? Do I need to get yourparents?”

Tara’s heart clenched as she shook her head. “I don’t have parents,” she said, her voice coming out a littlehoarse.

“Are they dead to you? Because mine aretotallydead to me right now. They have no clue how hard it is to bebotha thirteen-year-old girlandin the eighth grade. I’ve tried to explain to them that girls my age are ruthless, abhorrent, demonic, soul-sucking bitches who only want to cut your throat and laugh as they watch you bleed out on the greasy cafeteria floor, but they simply won’t believe me. ‘I was thirteen once,’ my mom keeps saying. But I’m not sure if she really was. She acts like I’m exaggerating orsomething.

“I mean, how is it fair thatIget grounded for saying ‘ruthless bitches?’ They didn’t seem to care that I’d also said they were abhorrent, demonic, and soul sucking. I am telling the truth about those bitches, yet my dad can scream obscenities at the vehicle in front of him because the driver is supposedly making him late to work when we all know that’s a big fat lie. He was running late to work all on his own because he kept hitting the snooze button on the alarm this morning. It’s not the fault of the person who wasdriving the speed limit. C’mon!” She rolled her large greeneyes.

Tara stared at the girl, wondering if she ever actually breathed. She was sure this girl hadn’t taken a breath throughout her entire monologue. Tara was also trying not to punch the girl in the face because she would give anything to have her parents back so they could ground her for cussing or having a bad attitude or anything they wantedto.

“Damn, you’re a tough crowd. Don’t like to talk,huh?”

“Who are you, and why are you talking to me?” Tara finallyasked.

“Oh, frack, sorry. I’m totally lacking in social skills, or so my mom tells me like every frapping day. I’m Shelly Ann Smith. Yes, my initials spell SAS. My parents didn’t think that through very well when they chose my name.” Shelly waved her hand as if her parents were positively ridiculous. “Who are you? And why are you sitting in the parkcrying?”

Tara realized Shelly was truly clueless, or just one of those people you had to be almost cruelly honest with because they just didn’t get normal social cues. Tara didn’t have the energy to protect the girl’s feelings by letting the news out gently. This girl asked so she was gonna get the truth. Would Shelly feel like a complete ass afterward? Probably. Did Tara care?Nope.

“I’m Tara Thompson, and I’m crying because my parents were killed in a car accident two months ago. I don’t give a crap if your parents are pissed at you for cussing about the stupid mean girls at your school. My parents really are dead … to me and everyone else onearth.”

Shelly’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “My mom was right. My social skills suck balls. Dude, I amsosorry. And I said my parents were dead to me. Damn! You probably want to throat punch me orsomething.”

Tara nodded. “I do want to throat punch you. But hitting someone takes energy. I’m out. I got nothing left.” Her shoulders slumped forward as she wrapped her arms around the chains of theswing.

Shelly sighed and started moving her swing side to side, just enough to nudge Tara’s swing and make her gently rock. Tara added “no personal space boundaries” to the mental list of things that was wrong with the strange girl who’d sat down next to heruninvited.

“Where are you from? I mean, I’ve never seen you around, and Buffalo, Kentucky is a small town. I’m sure I would have already befriended you by now,” Shelly said matter-of-factly.

“You make a lot of friends or something?” Tara asked. She’d much rather focus on Shelly’s issues than herown.

“Actually, you’re pretty much myfirst.”

Tara’s brow drew down. “I’m your first friend? Are you new here,too?”

“Naw,” Shelly said, shaking her head. “Born and bred in good ol’ Buffalo. I just get on people’s nerves as a general rule. I might have had some friends a year or so ago. But a wave of hormones seems to have taken over the town’s entire female population last summer before the start of seventh grade. Those friendships blew up in an explosion fueled by PMS andestrogen.”

“What makes you think I want to be yourfriend?”

“One…” Shelly held up a hand and ticked off a finger. “You’re new in town, which means you don’t have any friends. Two, you’re brooding and angry, which is the perfect complement to my gregarious, fun-lovingself.”

Tara waited for more, but Shelly didn’t go on. She simply rocked back and forth with a small smile on her face as if she were quite pleased withherself.

“That’s all you got?” Tara asked. “The fact that you think I’m desperate for a friend because I’m new and because you’re so annoying you need someone un-annoying to temper your ownpersonality?”

“Pretty much, but I’m winging it. You caught me quite unprepared to make a new friend. Give me another hour to think about it, and I could have an entire debate prepared on the subject of why we are destined to be BFFs, complete with a bullet-pointpresentation.”

Tara thought her words would anger Shelly, or at least hurt her feelings. But they appeared to roll right off the girl’s back, as if she were impervious toinsults.

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