Puppy Love (17 page)

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Authors: A. Destiny and Catherine Hapka

BOOK: Puppy Love
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“Oh,” he said after a moment. “Yeah, I thought that might happen.”

I blinked. “You don't seem very happy about it.” Suddenly I remembered that Adam had mentioned Robert's name, and I belatedly put two and two together. “Wait—you didn't, like, tell him to ask me, did you? Is that what he was talking about? Oh man, you did, didn't you?”

Robert held up his hands. “Down, girl,” he said. “I admit it, okay? That was my errand yesterday. I stopped over here after I dropped you off and hung around until after Adam was finished with his training class.”

“So you did tell him to ask me out?” I cried. “Oh, man—talk about humiliating!” Suddenly an even worse thought occurred to me. “Wait—you didn't, like, pay him to do it, did you?”

“No! Of course not.” He looked insulted. “I didn't even tell him to do it. All I did was explain what happened on Sunday. Let him know he missed his cue.”

“Oh, man,” I moaned again.

“No, listen.” Robert grabbed my arm. “It's cool. He actually felt bad about the misunderstanding. I think he already thought you were cute.”

“Really?” I was still humiliated. But now I was intrigued, too. “Okay, I wish you'd told me you were planning to talk to him.” I paused, thinking about that. “Hold on—scratch that.
Never mind. If I'd known, I never would have let you do it.”

His mouth twisted. “No kidding.”

“Anyway, I guess the important thing is, it worked.” I shivered as I remembered how sweet and shy Adam had been when he'd asked me out. “Thanks, pal.”

“Anytime, buddy.” Robert hesitated, twisting his leather elbow patch between his fingers. “But listen, after talking to Adam yesterday, I'm not sure about him.”

I grabbed a plastic fish-tank plant out of Muckle's mouth. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I'm not sure he's such a dream guy after all.” Robert shrugged. “Yeah, the accent's cool, and there's no denying he's easy on the eyes. But I'm starting to think that's all he's got going.”

“Huh?” I straightened up and frowned. “You're crazy. Adam's awesome. Even the dogs think so.”

“That's the thing.” Robert glanced down at Muckle, who was staring longingly at the fish plant I'd returned to the shelf. “The guy seems pretty hyper focused on the whole dog thing. Like, to the point he doesn't seem to have much interest in anything else.”

“So he has a passion,” I retorted. “I like that in a guy.”

Robert still looked troubled. “But does he really have time for a relationship? Is he even interested in one? You're too good to play second fiddle to a bunch of mutts, Lauren.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don't be melodramatic.”

“No, I'm serious.” Robert frowned at me. “It's not like you're
some hopeless case who has to take the first guy who shows interest. Lots of guys think you're cute.”

“That's news to me,” I shot back. “Name one. And my dad doesn't count.”

“What about Jamal?” Robert raised an eyebrow. “It's pretty blazing obvious he's got the hots for you.”

“What?” I could feel my face going pink. “Jamal? He's cool, but we're just friends.”

The eyebrow arched higher. “Does Jamal know that?”

“Shut up.” I couldn't think of a better retort. Why was Robert talking about Jamal when Adam had just asked me out? “I thought you were supposed to be my best friend,” I added irritably.

“I am your best friend.”

“Then act like it. You should be happy for me right now, okay? Especially since you're the one who helped make it happen.”

“Yeah.” He was frowning again. “Yippee me.”

Muckle was nosing at the fake kelp again, which seemed like our cue to get out of there. “Come on,” I said. “I think Muckle's ready for a walk. Let's go.”

*  *  *

“What do you think?” I held up a pair of cute patterned leggings. “These and a tunic top, maybe? Too casual, or just casual enough?”

Robert shrugged, barely looking up. He was sprawled on my bed, flipping through one of my mom's old-lady fashion mags.

I stuck the leggings back in the closet, then yanked Muckle away from my shoe rack. “Don't eat those,” I told the puppy sternly.
“I haven't decided which ones to wear on Saturday yet.” Shooting a look over my shoulder, I added, “And somebody isn't being much help.”

That made Robert look up. “Oh, you wanted my advice?” he said tartly. “That's funny. I thought you were ignoring that this week.”

I sighed. Things had been tense since our chat the previous afternoon. That was Robert for you—he was a talented sulker when the mood struck him. I was trying to be patient and ignore his attitude, but it was getting old. Why did he have to get in a snit now, when I really could have used his advice?

“Fine,” I said. “Then maybe I'll just borrow Mom's favorite plaid slacks.” I sneaked a peek over to gauge Robert's reaction. If that offense to fashion didn't snap him out of it, nothing would.

Just then my phone buzzed. Fishing it out of my pocket, I saw that the call was coming from a number I didn't recognize. I almost didn't answer, but then I wondered if it could be Adam.

“Hello?” I said.

“Lauren? Hi, it's Jamal.”

I stiffened. “Jamal?” How had he found out my number? It was unlisted. “Um, hi. What's up?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Robert sit up abruptly. He stared at me, his eyes glittering with interest.

“Not much,” Jamal said. “Uh, except I was wondering—that is, if you're not doing anything on Saturday after class, I thought maybe we could check out that zombie movie.”

I swallowed hard. Robert was leaning forward, as if trying to hear the other end of the conversation. I clutched the phone tightly.

“Oh,” I said. “Um, that would be fun, except I can't. I already have plans for Saturday after class. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay.” Jamal sounded disappointed. “Maybe some other time, huh? See you in class.”

“Yeah. See you.” I hung up and glared at Robert. “How did Jamal get my number?” I demanded.

He frowned. “Why'd you say no? I know you're dying to see that stupid monster movie.”

“It's a zombie movie. And so not the point,” I snapped. “Seriously, did you tell Jamal to ask me out?”

“Absolutely not.” He shrugged. “Okay, I might have encouraged him a little. But he was already thinking about it all on his own.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. Sensing my growing fury, Muckle crouched down and whined.

“I can't believe this!” I cried. “You knew I was already going out with Adam on Saturday! All you did was force me to hurt Jamal's feelings. What if he's so hurt he doesn't even want to be friends anymore?”

“So again—why'd you say no?” Robert wasn't backing down. “Jamal's a much better prospect than Mr. Self-Absorbed Woof-Woof Man.”

I gritted my teeth. “That's for me to decide! How dare you meddle in my love life?”

“If I didn't meddle, you wouldn't even have a love life,” he countered. “Anyway, I'm just trying to fix my previous mistake. I never should have talked to Adam about you.”

“So that's what this is about?” Suddenly I gasped as another thought popped into my mind. “Wait—so you decided Adam wasn't good enough for me after you had your little private chitchat with him, huh? Is that what this is really about?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Maybe you liked what you saw even better face-to-face,” I spat out. “Maybe you're trying to sabotage me so you can go for Adam yourself!”

“What? Are you serious? You can't—I wouldn't—why would I even—how could you—,” he sputtered, his face going beet red. He jumped off the bed and stomped toward the door.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“Anywhere but here,” he snapped back. The door slammed, and he was gone.

Chapter
Sixteen
Friends

R
obert and I still hadn't
made up by the time school ended on Friday. Not only was I being forced to take the bus to and from school, but I'd also never felt more lonely. Oh, sure, I had a few other friends at County Day—girls who usually invited me to their parties, who I sat with at lunch whenever Robert was absent or in detention, and who I sometimes paired up with for projects and stuff.

But it wasn't the same. Robert and I argued all the time, of course. But our fights normally never lasted more than a day or so. We were just too close for that.

Or were we? The longer things went on, the more I wondered what would happen if we never made up. After all, Robert had ditched “BFFs” before, hadn't he? For the first time, I wondered
what had become of all those anonymous blondes he'd mentioned when we'd first met.

I stared out the bus window all the way home on Friday afternoon, so worried that I barely even noticed the stale-corn-chips-and-feet smell of the bus. When I let myself into the house, Muckle was his usual hyper self. Miraculously, he hadn't chewed up or peed on anything that day—at least nothing Mom had noticed.

“What do you know—maybe there's hope for the little fur ball yet,” she said, shooting Muckle the closest thing to a smile she'd ever given him as he leaped around, expressing his joy at my arrival. “Let's keep up the good work, Lauren, okay?”

“Will do, Mom.” I kept a slightly worried eye on the gleeful puppy, remembering his reaction to Adam's arrival the other day. “Come on, Muckle,” I said, grabbing him with one hand and his leash with the other. “Let's go out.”

After he'd done his business, I was feeling restless. I was used to spending most of my free time with Robert, and without him I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself.

“Why don't I have any other friends, Muckle?” I muttered.

The puppy glanced up from sniffing a bug and let out a bark. I sighed.

“Of course you wouldn't understand,” I told him, bending down to run my fingers through his furry ruff. “To a puppy, the whole world is a friend, right?”

I pulled out my phone and stared at it, tempted to call Robert and beg for forgiveness. Instead I got a better idea. Logging on
to the Internet, I searched the name Rachel Kardos. The results popped up immediately.

“Great—she's listed,” I told Muckle. Then I dialed Rachel's number.

She answered on the second ring. “Lauren?” she said when I identified myself. “Hi! What's up?”

“I was thinking about taking Muckle to the dog park in Springdale this afternoon,” I said. “I was wondering if you and Gizi wanted to go?”

“Sure! That sounds fun,” Rachel said. “I'm actually getting my hair cut in Springdale right now—I could meet you at the dog park in, like, half an hour if that's okay?”

“Cool. Let me see if my mom can give me a ride,” I said. “If she can't, I'll have to take the bus, so I definitely won't make it in half an hour. But I'll text you back either way.”

“Great. See you soon!” Rachel actually sounded happy that we had plans. Take that, Robert.

When I got back to the house, I found that I was in luck. Mom hadn't left yet for her weekly Friday charity meeting in Madison. She agreed to drop me and Muckle off at the dog park and pick us up an hour and a half later on her way back home.

Rachel was waiting by the gate when Muckle and I got out of the car. Gizi spotted us first and went crazy, barking and jumping around on the end of her leash. Muckle responded in the same way, and the two puppies enjoyed a happy reunion.

“Think they're glad to see each other?” Rachel asked with
a laugh, blowing a strand of blond hair out of her eyes as Gizi dragged her around.

“Hmm, hard to say,” I joked. “Come on, let's go in.”

This was Rachel's first visit to the dog park, so I gave her a quick tour. Once again, there were lots of dogs running around the main lawn, and others playing in the smaller pens or lapping water from the fountains. Even though it was only my second time there, I recognized a few of the dogs and their people—the stout older man with the boxer, the blond girl with the Brittany, a tattooed guy with a burly Rottweiler. Oops—and even the lady with the papillon was back, though luckily, she was wandering in the opposite direction and didn't see me and Muckle. A few other dogs looked kind of familiar too. Obviously Adam wasn't the only regular at the dog park.

“The agility courses are down here,” I told Rachel as we reached the first of the agility pens.

Her eyes lit up with interest. “Adam keeps talking about agility, right? He thinks I should try it with Gizi.”

I laughed. “I get the feeling Adam thinks every dog should try agility. He keeps telling me Muckle has natural talent.”

“Yeah? That's cool.” Rachel leaned on the fence and watched the dogs in the agility pen. A shepherd mix was practicing some jumps, barking joyfully every time it cleared one. Nearby, a young man was trying to convince a confused-looking Labrador retriever to go through the weave poles properly instead of just crashing through them.

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