Despite my rocky start, Émile wasn't fazed. The hour drive wasn't awful, as I had imagined it would be. Far from it, actually. I barely paid attention to Mark and Lada. Émile and I spent the entire ride talking about his Airedale Terriers. With concerns about the dogs' hearing, I was pretty sure that I had made myself a new client, two new puppies to attend my clinic. Though I barely had time to look in the front, I didn't miss Lada's sly smirk from the side mirror. She was looking smugly proud of herself.

      I was glad I had the rubber boots. We hadn't even made it to the entrance yet and Lada could hardly walk, heels sinking in the ground. All eyes were on us, or specifically the sinking blonde, but she couldn't have cared less. Lada was nothing short of a perfectionist when it came to photography, and she wanted those cutes deer selfies. She hopped on Mark's back, neither of them voicing complaints.

      We walked a way into the woods before we spotted the ticket booth. Surely to give himself a moment to catch his breath, Mark dropped Lada on the nearest picnic table.

      "You girls stay here," he offered. "We'll get the tickets."

      Without waiting for our input, Mark and Émile headed for the booth. Swiftly pulling out my wallet, I seized Mark by the back of his jean jacket. "I'll come with."

      "I've got it." Émile spoke nonchalantly.

      "I can buy my own ticket."

      "I know you can, but I want to do this."

      "No," I answered stubbornly. "I'll—"

      Lada yanked me backwards and my words died in a yelp. Falling on the wooden seat next to her, she shushed me.

       "You boys go ahead." She smiled sweetly.

       "Lada—" I tried to stand as I watched the men walk away.

      "Yasmine," she retorted firmly. "Let the nice man pay for you."

      I huffed grumpily. "That's not friendly behavior."

      "This is still a date," she reminded. "And friends can buy each other things. You paid for my supper two weeks ago... Unless you meant something else by it." She wiggled her brows seductively.

       I shoved her lightly. "You didn't have your wallet."

      "Neither do you."

      Frowning, I raised the grey wallet as proof. In a flash, she snatched the wallet from my weak grasp and threw it down her shirt.

      "Lada!" I complained. "Why—" I lost my train of thought as I looked at her chest. There was no evidence of the stolen lump. No odd bulge: wallet camouflaged perfectly somewhere below her cleavage.

      "Wow," I marvelled. "It really just disappeared."

      "Magic." She grinned.

      "Is this how you sneak alcohol everywhere we go?"

      Retrieving a miniature flask from beneath her shirt, she winked. "A magician never reveals her secrets."

      The night had been enjoyable. As we waited for our booked time slot on the wagon, we stayed in the main area. We fed the typical petting zoo animals, horses, goats, and ducks, and fed ourselves at the small chip stand. Picnic tables not far from the enclosure, it probably wasn't the most sanitary thing. But I didn't mind. The quacking and bleating didn't make my poutine any less good. I was used to having meals in the presence of animals.

     We took the table furthest from the enclosure, ensuring the smell of manure was minimal. We chatted as we waited for our 6 o'clock mark, and Lada was right. Émile was very friendly, a true gentleman. But... As the night passed, he grew bolder. He started by sitting a few inches closer. And then he stole a few more inches, subtly scooting across the bench until our thighs touched. I controlled my reaction; kept my face neutral. I neither encouraged nor discouraged him. Never mind my own discomfort, I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

     By the time he worked up the nerve to wrap an arm around my waist it was nearly six. I hadn't had to suffer long. The moment they announced the wagon's arrival, I jumped to my feet. "Let's go!"

      "Eager aren't you," Lada laughed. She was laughing for all the wrong reasons, as I was eager for all the wrong reasons.

      "You bet." I grinned for her sake. I didn't let the smile falter when Émile's chubby fingers intertwined with mine.

     There were a lot of people for such a small wagon. Damn tightwads scrounging up every penny by surpassing what should have been a reasonable capacity. While Émile and Mark sat on the wagon bench, Lada sat between Mark's legs to make more room. She sat on the bottom platform, her long legs hanging over the edge. Spotting many couples doing the same, I wasn't surprised when Lada nudged her head towards Émile's parted legs. I had been trying to find a way out, alas, ignoring the knots in my stomach, I sat where she directed me. I did not rest easily on his crotch as Lada did Mark. I inched forward as much as possible, as much as I could without falling off the wagon.

      The trail was beautiful. And as promised, along with the odd rabbit and birds, there were plenty of deer. The tractor drove slowly, pausing every now and then to encourage picture taking. Though we had to remain on the wagon, the deer came right up to us, nudging hands with their noses for food. I couldn't believe I hadn't heard of this place before. This was exactly my type of thing. I just wished I could have enjoyed it more, with no distractions that came in the form of hovering hands behind my back. Émile's hand moved from shoulder to shoulder and to my back, indecisively. I wish he'd have settled with returning them to his pocket, regrettably I wasn't so lucky. He rested a hand a top my head. I expected him to play with my hair, to run his fingers through my curls, but it seemed he didn't know what to do with himself. Just when I thought he'd keep a still hand on my head the entire ride, to my horror he made it worse. He was petting me. Because he couldn't see my face, I let the frown and scrunched nose paint my face. Was this something people typically did? I didn't glance at the couples on the wagon to search for an answer. I kept my gaze strained forward, desperately distracting myself with the deer.

      Minutes passed and the hand remained atop my head. I flicked my eyes to the sky, pleadingly. If there's some almighty force out there, have pity. Help me, I prayed. Just as soon as I returned my gaze forward, out of the corner of my eye I saw something move. I almost grinned, thinking my prayers had been answered. But it was just a punk teenager trying to impress a girl. Crushing his empty energy drink on his head, he threw it in the grass.

      Because I was already on edge, I fixed him with my sternest brows.

      "Hey!" I called on him. "No loitering." I pointed to the sign taped on the tractor, right behind his thick head.

      The raven-haired boy rolled his eyes, further riling me up.

      "Especially with the animals," I scolded. "What if—"

      Lada inhaled sharply. Following her wide eyes, my fears came true. A buck was munching on the can.

      "Idiot!" I accused the boy, briefly looking up at the sky as if to curse it. This is not what I meant!

      Ignoring the remain in your seat sign next to the No loitering sign, I jumped off the wagon. Disregarding the shouting of my name, acting purely on instincts, I tackled the buck before it could be spooked. There was a horrified chorus of gasps behind me. This surely wasn't looking good on my part.

      Saving me the embarrassment, the buck didn't put up much of a fight. As the can became stuck in his mouth, cutting into its skin, it seemed to realize that I was trying to help. It was not an easy task. I often saw animals who had chewed on things they ought not have, at work. But on my home turf I had assistants and sedatives. Holding the buck down with my body, I worked on its mouth. Carefully, trying to save my fingers, I removed the can. Inspecting for damage, I concluded that the small cut would heal on its own and let him go. Standing up, I watched it dash off into the woods.

      Turning towards the wagon, I tossed the can back at the loser in the Aerosmith shirt. I had wanted to make an offhanded comment but noted all eyes on me and cringed. Everyone on the wagon, thrash thrower and tractor driver included, regarded me with a mixture of wide eyes and agape mouths. I guess I had made somewhat of a show.

      Awkwardly taking my seat, I only relaxed when Lada burst into laughter. "Oh." She clutched Mark's knee, who had also started laughing. "That was brilliant."

      Watching Lada wipe tears from her eyes, Émile started shaking behind me. Laughter soon spread across the entire wagon. The driver, still with the befuddled expression, didn't know what to say. Watching me with a stupefied expression, he finally exhaled his own chuckle and hopped back into his seat.

      I did not hear the end of my impromptu rescue for the remainder of the night. Dozens of strangers came up to me that night. It was a great way to make new friends, and I had seized every opportunity to promote my new clinic. So much for all that money wasted on traditional marketing. Who needed adds and business cards when you could simply wrestle a male deer? My mother was going to hate being proved wrong.

       With the extra bodies around, it was easier to ignore Émile's advances. Nonetheless, as we drove home, we were back to just the four of us. I had to address the date situation. Émile had boldly professed his interest in seeing each other again and though I hesitated, we exchanged numbers. He was genuinely someone that I wanted to speak with again... Just probably not in the way he hoped, and definitely minus the petting.

      Lada was so excited about our night that she crashed at my place. Both tucked into my bed, TV set on a random cooking show, Lada flopped on her side, grinning down at me.

      "So?" she prompted.

      "So?" I returned her dancing brows.

      "It was much better, right?"

      I nodded, honestly. It was considerably less uncomfortable than the ending of my last date.

      "I told you he wouldn't do anything to make you uncomfortable."

      My face twitched in an attempt to conceal a grimace. Lada didn't miss it. She scowled.

     "What did he do?"

      I sighed. "I didn't like the hand around my waist, or the hand holding... And I certainly didn't enjoy the petting."

      "The petting?"

      I nodded insistently. "He was very much petting my hair."

      She shrugged. "Sabelia plays with your hair all the time."

      "She braids it," I retorted. "She doesn't pet me like I'm one of the main attractions at the petting zoo."

      Lada smiled faintly. "So, you didn't like him?"

      "No." I shook my head feverishly. "I actually really liked him..."

      "But?"

      I swallowed, fidgeting with my bed sheets. "No buts."

      "Yasmine." Her soft tone forced my eyes to hers. I sighed helplessly. "You can like someone and not want to date them."

      I smiled feebly. "I'm sorry."

      "Don't apologize. You can't help how you feel."

      I exhaled with relief. "Thank you."

      There was a beat of silence and foolishly I let myself get my hopes up, let myself believe she'd go to sleep and stop questioning me.

      "We're you just not attracted to him?"

      I shrugged.

      "But you were attracted to Glenn?"

      "I mean I could appreciate that he was good looking, but I wasn't any more attracted to him than I was Émile."

       Blonde brows shot up. "But you almost slept with Glenn."

      My cheeks grew pink. "I just thought it was something I ought to try. If Émile had been there that night, I'd just as much have left with him."

     Seemingly perplexed, she sat up, as if she needed to be more alert to properly approach the conversation.

      "You weren't attracted to either of them?"

      I shrugged helplessly.

      "You don't know?"

      "I mean... What exactly would you consider being attracted?"

      Lada paused. "I'd say when I can picture myself with someone. When I have a desire to be with them."

      "Like sexually?"

      She nodded.

      "And... You actually imagine it?"

     "Of course." She didn't hesitate. "Do you not?"

     I shook my head, partially bewildered.

     "Never?" I had never seen her brows arched so high.

     "Never." I confirmed.

      Lada blinked in disbelief patiently waiting for an explanation. But I couldn't find any words that would be useful. I couldn't describe how I felt because I didn't quite understand my feelings.

      "I can appreciate the fact that certain people are good looking," I gave it a shot for her sake. "They have nice faces. They're aesthetically pleasing... But it's like a painting. I can appreciate the beauty of an art piece, but that doesn't mean I want to fuck it."

      Lada studied me for a few moments, leaning forward with utmost attention. "Interesting," she finally acknowledged, offering no other input.

      I pulled the blanket up to my chest self-consciously. "But maybe it'll come. I'm going to keep talking to him... And hopefully something will come someday."

      Lada's smile was genuine as she settled back into her pillow. "No pressure," she supported. "But I'm proud that you're giving this a real shot."

      I mirrored her smile before reaching for the lamp.

       Phone dinging just as I started dozing off, Lada already fast asleep next to me, I dared to steal a glance at my screen. It was a message from Émile.

       Émile: Hope you made it home safely. This reminded me of you!

        Along with the message, he sent a clip from his new favourite movie scene: the sheep scene from Just Go with it. I chuckled at the message. He had my sense of humor. He was truly a great guy... I wish I could have given him what he wanted.