Puppy Love (9 page)

I smiled sympathetically. Every time I saw Gizi, I was reminded that Muckle could be much worse. “This is my friend Robert,” I said. “Robert, this is Rachel. She goes to MVHS.”

“Robert James Chase, at your service,” Robert said with his usual bow and flourish.

“Rachel Kardos.” Rachel smiled shyly, clearly not quite sure what to make of Robert. He got that a lot. “Hi.”

Robert tossed a salute in my general direction. “I'm off. Have fun, kids.”

He hurried off, disappearing behind a stack of birdcages. “Where's he going?” Rachel asked.

“Who knows.” I rolled my eyes. “But don't be alarmed if you notice him spying on our class. Robert can be strange at times, but he's mostly harmless.”

Rachel smiled uncertainly. “So how's Muckle doing?” she asked. “Have you guys been practicing the stuff Adam taught us?”

“Of course.” I could feel my face heating up as I remembered that extra private lesson on Sunday afternoon. But I wasn't about to tell Rachel that. “I think Muck's finally starting to catch on to the whole walking-on-a-leash thing. At least sometimes. Sort of.”

She laughed. “I know what you mean. One step forward, two steps back, right?”

“Yeah. And then ten steps off to the side, chasing a squirrel.” I was a little distracted, since I'd just spotted Jamal coming. Ozzy was turning himself inside out, he was so obviously happy to see us. To be honest, Jamal looked pretty psyched too. His smile lit up his whole face. Not that I was noticing things like that about him.

Quickly scanning the surrounding area, I was relieved to see that Robert was nowhere in sight. Although he could be hiding somewhere, of course. Probably peering through his binoculars and giggling over seeing me with Jamal. I frowned slightly as I thought about my best friend's comments earlier. Where had he gotten the idea I was flirting with Jamal? That I'd ever flirt with
Jamal? The guy was cool—and okay, anyone with eyes could see that he was good-looking—but he was so not my type. Even without Adam in the picture, there was just no way.

“What's up, ladies?” Jamal said as he reached us. “I was afraid I'd be late—I had to stay after school to talk to my cross-country coach about next weekend's meet.”

“Nope, you're right on time.” Rachel smiled at him. “Should we head back to the training area?”

“Sure. Let's go.” I hurried off, practically dragging Muckle away from his delighted greeting ritual with Ozzy. If my cheeks were going pink because of stupid Robert's stupid comments, I didn't want the others to notice and wonder. Especially Jamal. He was a nice guy, and I didn't want to give him the wrong impression.

As soon as we started class, I forgot all about Jamal, Robert, and everything else. Even my own name, probably. Because Adam was just as amazing as ever. He was energetic, he was knowledgeable, he was totally focused on the dogs. We started by reviewing some of the stuff we'd done in the first class. Just your basic sit, down, walk on a leash. Most of the puppies seemed a little better today, though the hound mix was just as hopeless as ever, and Ozzy kept getting distracted by Jamal's shoelaces.

As for Muckle? He started off okay and performed his sits like a champ. But while we were walking, a bird flew overhead. Yes, a bird. I could only assume it was a wild sparrow or something that
had mistaken the cavernous store for some kind of natural cave and found a way inside, since the store didn't sell any live animals except fish.

And that was all she wrote. The other dogs didn't even notice the bird. But Muck started jumping around, head pointed skyward—well, ceilingward—barking like a loon.

“Lauren.” Suddenly Adam was at my side. “Having some trouble over here?”

“Sorry.” I was all too aware of his eyes boring into me. His body, so close to mine. I wanted to reach over and run my hands through his shock of raven hair, but I held back. “Um, he's just a little distracted.”

“Can I try?” He reached out.

For one giddy moment I almost put my hand in his. I realized just in time that he was actually reaching for the leash. I handed it over, trying not to shiver as our hands touched briefly.

“Okay, Muckle,” Adam said, bending down to caress the puppy's fuzzy head. “Let's show them how it's done, eh?”

Then he straightened up and walked to the center of the ring. And what do you know? That disloyal little beast trotted along beside him, in almost perfect heel position, as if he'd been doing it all his life. Figured.

“All right, everyone,” Adam called out to the entire class. “Let's stop and sit and watch for a moment. I'm going to demonstrate a few things with Muckle here. . . .”

He went on to do exactly that. And what do you know—once
again, the Muckster was a superstar! Oh, I wouldn't claim he was perfect. But he seemed to turn into a whole different pup with Adam at the other end of the leash.

It was amazing. It was awe-inspiring. It was hot.

Suddenly something clicked into place. Up to that point Adam had fit right into my usual type in some ways—the hair, the eyes, the accent. But he'd been an anomaly in others. I'd always gone for artsy guys. Singers like Corc, various actors, the occasional hip-hop dancer or whatever.

But now I realized something. The thing they'd all had in common wasn't being artsy so much as it was having a passion for something, whether that something was music, acting, or dance. That was what had attracted me to them, given them that certain something I couldn't resist. And by that standard, Adam fit right in. His passion was dogs, and he had a real talent with them—just as he'd modestly mentioned the other day.

The thought made me feel a tiny surge of optimism. And not only about my (potential) love life, either. With Adam helping me, maybe Muckle wasn't a lost cause after all. Maybe he could work his magic, turn things around, make Muckle's behavior acceptable even to my über-picky parents.

Before I knew it, Adam was calling an end to that day's class. Where had the time gone?

“One more thing,” he said as we started to gather up our stuff. “I forgot to mention it last time, but I wanted to tell you about the dog park over in Springdale. It just opened this past summer,
and it's a very cool place. They definitely created it with dogs and dog owners in mind. There's agility equipment, private runs for smaller dogs, all kinds of stuff. I suggest you all check it out if you can. Because remember—a tired dog is a good dog.” He smiled. “Maybe I'll even see you there—I take my dogs all the time. Okay, good class, everyone! See you on Saturday.”

He turned away and fiddled with the paperwork on his chair. Jamal clipped on Ozzy's leash, then leaned toward me. “That dog park sounds pretty cool, huh?” he said.

“Definitely,” Rachel said, looking up from adjusting Gizi's harness. “Maybe we should all take a field trip sometime.”

Jamal grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Yeah.” I was too distracted to focus much on the chitchat. Excusing myself, I hurried over to Adam.

He glanced up at my approach. “Hey, Lauren. Good work today.” He smiled and ruffled Muckle's ears. “Your pup made a perfect demo dog.”

“Thanks.” I cleared my throat. “That's, um, what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to thank you for showing me how good he can be. I guess I just assumed he'd always be too hyper to really learn much.”

Adam chuckled. “Spoken like a first-time puppy owner,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Don't fret, Lauren. Muckle is a terrific puppy. He's supersmart and trainable, with a very sweet temperament. With the right guidance, he could go far in dog sports.”

“You mean like we were talking about the other day?” I said. “Um, agility and stuff?”

“Exactly.” Adam picked up his papers and tucked them under his arm, then turned to face me. “You really should consider getting him started in that, Lauren. Try some beginner lessons, see how he likes it.”

“Sounds good.” My heart was pounding. Was it my imagination, or was he gazing at me super intently? “Um, but I'm not sure where to start.”

His smile broadened. “Well then, it's lucky you know me. I'd be happy to help you out. Like I was saying the other day, I teach lots of beginners to love agility just as much as I do.” He winked. “Dogs and owners.”

I was pretty sure I was blushing. Somehow, though, I didn't mind. Adam and I were connecting. I could feel it. The feeling made me bold.

“That sounds amazing,” I said, tilting my head in what I hoped was a flirty way. “I'd love it. So when can we get started?”

“As soon as Muckle graduates from puppy K,” Adam replied. “But hey, there's no reason you can't start getting him used to the equipment, maybe testing his interest a little. Like I was just telling the class, the Springdale dog park has everything you need. My dogs and I practice there a lot, and I teach some private clients there who don't have their own equipment. It's great.”

I held my breath, suddenly sure he was about to invite me
to go to the dog park with him. For a dog-crazy guy, that would totally count as a date, right?

“Adam?” The pug's owner barged over, dragging her puppy behind her. “I have a question. Puggsly still jumps up on me, and I can't figure out how to get him to stop. . . .”

I could have killed her. But the damage was done. The magical moment was gone, shattered into a zillion pieces. All I could do was smile once more at Adam, give a tug on Muckle's leash to pull him away from the pug, and head out to find Robert.

Chapter
Nine

W
hen the final bell rang
on Friday, I was out of my seat like a shot. I hurried to my locker, then to Robert's. He was peering into the small mirror he'd taped inside the door, fiddling with his hair. He was still doing the eighties-angst-rocker thing with it, though the exact style seemed to evolve slightly each day.

“Ready to go?” I asked.

He continued to stare at himself. “Go where?”

“The dog park. I told you about it at lunch, remember? I figured we could swing by and pick up Muckle, maybe stop off for a snack at that taco place on the way to Springdale. . . .”

“Sorry, no can do.” Robert finally tore his gaze away from his own reflection, glancing at me and then swinging the locker door shut. “I told my dad I'd play tennis with him this afternoon.”

“What?” That stopped me in my tracks. The only thing that had helped me survive the boring day at school was imagining today's trip to the dog park. Including the strong possibility of running into Adam. Thanks to my Internet stalking, I knew he didn't teach any classes at PetzBiz on Friday afternoons. And the way he'd been talking the other day, it had sounded as if he spent every spare moment at the dog park with his dogs. It didn't seem like foolish optimism to hope I might run into him there.

I tried to explain some of that to Robert. But he just kept shaking his head.

“Look, you know I'd rather hang with you than the fuddy-duddies at the country club,” he said. “But Dad is demanding some face time, and I don't want to be cut out of the will.”

“Fine.” I wanted to argue, or maybe just throw a tantrum. But what good would that do? “Maybe we can go another time.”

“Sure, maybe. Come on, I'll drop you off on my way home.”

When I let myself into the house a little while later, I found my mother in the front hall rifling through the mail. Muckle was nowhere in sight when I entered, but he came running a few seconds later, flinging himself at me as eagerly as if we'd been parted for seven years instead of seven hours.

“That beast has been incorrigible all day,” Mom informed me, glaring at Muckle over the tops of her rhinestone-encrusted reading glasses. “He never sits still.”

“Yeah, about that.” I wasn't ready to give up on my afternoon plans yet. “I was going to take him to the dog park in
Springdale to run off some energy, but Robert's busy. Can you drop me off?”

Mom checked her watch. “Actually, I'm leaving for a meeting over in Madison in ten minutes. I suppose I could swing through Springdale on the way. You'd have to find your own way home, though.”

“That's okay. I can take the bus.” I tried not to grimace at the thought. Our local suburban bus line wasn't exactly state of the art. There were only a handful of buses, all of them old, smelly, and slow. But a girl had to do what a girl had to do, right? Besides, riding the bus would be another good socialization exercise for Muckle. At least that was what I told myself.

I felt a shiver of nerves as Mom pulled her Lexus to the curb half an hour later. “Is this it?” she asked, peering at the tall iron gate.

“Yeah, I think so,” I said with a straight face, even though the gate had foot-high letters spelling out community dog park on it. “Thanks for the ride.”

I checked to make sure Muckle's leash was attached to his collar, then got out of the car. Muckle jumped out after me, spinning around in circles like he always did in a new place.