My Boyfriends' Dogs (6 page)

“Okay.” Went said this loud enough into the phone to bring me back to the present. “I said I'd be there. Yeah. . . . Soon as I can, Dad.” He slid it back into his pocket.

Mom closed her eyes and touched her forehead like she was getting a vision. “Wait, wait. I see an angry father wondering where his wandering son is. I see two women—who look like sisters instead of mother and daughter—eating a whole pizza by themselves.” She opened her eyes.

“Sorry. Dad wants us to have dinner together. Thanks for the pizza offer, though. And the séance.”

“Anytime,” Mom said.

“Want me to walk with you?” I volunteered. I couldn't have cared less that his place was at least a mile away. I would gladly have forgone pizza and walked with him to the top of Mount Everest.

“I think I better run,” he said.

“Need a lift?” Mom asked.

“Almost forgot.” Went rushed to the battered table. “Speaking of lifts, where can I put this? ”

“We can get it, Went,” I assured him.

“No problem.” He lifted that big table as if it were a surf-board. “Just show me where you want it.”

Mom hopped to the driver's side of the van and poked the garage door opener. The garage door lifted, revealing piles and piles of furniture.

Went didn't even make fun of the mess. He dashed straight for one of the few openings and set down the table. When he came out, he brushed his hands together. “If you want to refinish it, I'd be glad to help.”

“You're kidding,” Mom said. She turned to me. “Is he real, Bailey?”

I nodded. “I'll walk you to the corner.”

“Bye, Mrs. Daley of Ukulele,” he called over his shoulder as we walked arm in arm, Adam tagging along behind us.

“I'll take you up on that refinishing offer!” Mom shouted after us.

“She's great,” Went observed.

“All the Daley women are.”

At the corner, Went stopped and turned to me, his green eyes intense. I knew it was time for him to go. It was only for the night. We'd see each other in school the next day. But I didn't want him to leave.

Adam sat down behind me. “I have a feeling you'll have to carry Adam home.” I picked up the little dog, kissed his head, and held him out to Went.

Instead of taking Adam from me, Went didn't move. I pressed the dog to Went's chest and smiled up at him. “Here you go.”

“No,” Went said softly, “here
you
go.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and leaned down, Adam smushed between us.

And he kissed me.

The kiss couldn't have lasted more than a second, but I could still feel his lips when he took Adam from me and stepped back. “See you tomorrow, Bailey Daley of Ukulele Lane.” He turned and ran, with Adam tucked under one arm like a football.

I watched until I couldn't see even the shadow of Went Smith. As I floated back down the street, I was shouting on the inside:

And for the first time in my life, it felt true.

I got to school early the next day and waited outside for Went. Amber arrived, looking amazing in a pink-patterned top and orange cargos, tied together with this funky orange-and-pink belt. She waited with me for a few minutes. “Maybe he's not coming.”

I shook my head hard, discarding that outrageous impossibility. “He promised he'd see me at school. Went wouldn't break a promise.”

Amber frowned. “You did hear yourself, right?”

I glared up at her. She didn't understand because she didn't have a boyfriend. “Maybe he's already inside.”

We walked to our lockers, and there was Went, talking to Carly by her locker. Carly gave me a prom-queen wave.

Went turned around, beaming. “Bailey! Morning.” He came over to my locker. I messed up my combination because I couldn't think with him standing over me, his breath on my neck. “How's your mom?” he asked.

“Good,” I answered. “Your dad?” I hated being so formal. It was as if the day before had never happened, as if I hadn't crossed the line, as if there had been no kiss. Carly was calling him. I jerked open my locker, and three books fell out. Before I could get them, Went picked them up. I held out my hands, but he wouldn't give me my books until I looked at him. “Save me a seat at lunch?” His green eyes were soft and deep.

I nodded.

He handed over my books, and the bell rang.

I watched him walk up the hall with Carly. He stopped and said something to Meagan. He exchanged greetings with the Marlowe twins, gorgeous freshmen who could have passed for juniors.

“Come on,” Amber said. “We're going to be late.”

We were in our back-row seats before either of us spoke again. “You know,” I began, trying to be reasonable, “it's not Went's fault if Carly flirts with him.”

“That depends,” Amber said.

“On what?” I snapped.

Amber's eyes grew big. She and I never argued about anything except music. “Never mind.”

 

I didn't see Went until lunch, when he was friendly and wonderful to both Amber and me. We'd all packed our lunches.

“Where do you buy your clothes, Amber?” he asked. “They're great.”

“Thanks.” She bit into her sandwich. He waited for more, but she didn't give it.

I didn't like that Amber was retreating again, so I jumped in. “Amber makes almost all her own clothes.”

“You're kidding.” Went opened his bag of chips.

Amber nodded, but didn't say anything.

I changed the subject. “Where's Adam? He didn't attack me this morning. I missed that.”

“Adam sends his greetings. He whimpered all night. I think he missed you.” Went set down his chips and touched my wrist. “I know I did.”

Amber choked. “Sorry. Too much mustard. I'm having trouble swallowing it.”

I kicked her under the table. “Do you have a yard for Adam?” I asked Went.

“This whole dog thing isn't working out that great. There's no fenced-in yard. And Dad refuses to let the dog have the run of the house when we're gone.”

I pictured sweet Adam. I really liked the dog. After all, he was the one who had led me to Went. “So what did you do with him?”

“Dad bought a kennel. It's not very big, though.”

“A cage?” Amber asked.

Went shrugged. “I don't like it either. I'm hoping Adam will sleep all day.”

“Went, you can't leave Adam caged up every day,” I said.

“I can't let him out. He'll wander off.” Went crumpled the empty chips bag. “I don't like it, but there's nothing else to do with him, except kennel him all day.”

I couldn't stand it. “Adam could stay at our house.”

“Bailey?” Amber said. “Your mom doesn't even like dogs.”

“She just says that.” Mom's heart's the size of Wyoming. She'd never turned away a single stray I'd brought home. Once, we had three cats, a really old and smelly dog, and a bird with a broken wing. “Mom will love Adam once she gets to know him.”

“Are you serious? That would be great, Bailey.”

My mind was spinning overtime. It
would
be great. I tried not to act too excited about the implications. “You could drop Adam off every morning,” I said.
Which means we would have to walk to school together.
“He'd be fine at my house all day while we're in school.”
And then you'll have to come home with me to get your dog!

“Sounds good,” Went agreed. “Check with your mom and let me know. Did I give you my cell phone number?”

Yes!
“I don't think so,” I answered.

Amber rolled her eyes. I would have kicked her, but she'd scooted out of range.

Went wrote his phone number on his napkin and handed it to me.

I folded it carefully. “I kind of lost my cell,” I explained. “I'll find it in a couple of weeks. But my home number's in the book. And if you don't have a phone book yet, all Millet numbers are the same except for the last four digits, and my last four numbers are all fours. And seriously, don't worry about Mom. She'll love Adam like I do. So, bring your dog by tomorrow morning, and—”

“
My
dog?” Went stuffed his trash into the brown bag. “Hey, if we share the work, we share the dog.”

“You mean it?” I hadn't had a dog since old Brownie died.

Went grinned at me. “I mean it. From now on, Adam is
our
dog.”

I couldn't believe it. Twenty-four hours ago I didn't even have the hope of a boyfriend. Now I had a boyfriend, and
we
had a dog.

 

When school let out, I couldn't find Went anywhere. And believe me, I looked. I even checked—with my eyes shut—the boys' locker room. “I don't get it,” I told Amber. “How could he leave without saying goodbye?” I wasn't mad at Went, just baffled. “I admit this is the first time I've had a real boyfriend, so I might not—”

“A what?” Amber interrupted.

“A first real boyfriend,” I continued. “I mean, you can't count Brian or Jason.”

“Bailey, you—” She stopped and slammed her locker.

“What?” I could tell she'd been dying to say something to me all day, and I suspected it was about Went.

She sighed. “Nothing. I'll walk home with you.” She shot me a grin, but it felt fake. “I want to catch Big D's reaction when you tell her about your new dog.”

Amber and I didn't have much to say on the way home. I couldn't remember ever feeling awkward like that around her, but something had changed. I had a boyfriend now, and she didn't. I'd stepped over the line and left her stranded on the other side. “Amber, what's the deal with you and Went?”

“What?”

“I mean, you acted like you liked him yesterday.”

“No I didn't! I was just being friendly, Bailey!”

“I didn't mean
like
like. I know you don't
like
like him.”

Her whole body relaxed. “Okay then.”

“I just meant that you guys seemed friendly yesterday, and today you didn't.” I fumbled for the right words. “I want you to know that you'll always be my best girlfriend, even though Went is my boyfriend now.”

“Shut up,” she said, grinning.

I smiled, too. But I determined to be more thoughtful around my friend. The last thing I wanted to do was to make her feel bad now that I felt so wonderful.

Mom was home, so I did the rip-off-the-Band-Aid move and told her about Adam.

“Bailey, what were you thinking?” she shouted.

“Told you,” Amber said.

“What's the big deal, Mom? He's a dog, not a serial killer. He's housebroken.”
I hope.
I hadn't actually asked Went about that, but Adam was no puppy. “Adam's a sweetheart. And he smells a hundred times better than Brownie did.”

“Brownie? A skunk smells a hundred times better than that dog did.”

“And yet, you and Brownie bonded. You cried for days after that dog died.”

“My eyes were still watering from the smell,” she said. But I could tell she was remembering. Toward the end, Brownie became more her dog than mine.

“Went will come get him after school. You'll hardly even know the dog's around.”

She groaned and walked off to the kitchen. It was as good as a yes.

After Amber left, I went to my room and took out the napkin with Went's phone number. He had wonderful handwriting. Exotic even. His
7
had one of those little European lines through it so nobody could mistake it for a one
.
Very classy.

This was his cell number. And I was his girlfriend. I could call him. Nothing weird about that. He
gave
me his number. Maybe he was hinting that he wanted me to call him. Why hadn't I thought of that before? There was so much about being a girlfriend that I had to learn.

I dialed the number. It rang and rang. Then a voice came on. “Hi, this is Went. Leave a message, man. Talk to you later.” He sounded so friendly. I'm not sure I'd appreciated his mellow voice before. There was a beep.

“Uh . . .” I couldn't think of a thing to say, so I hung up.

That was stupid.
How was he supposed to know it was okay for him to bring his dog,
our
dog, over in the morning? I hit redial and waited for his voice mail. I could have dialed all night just to listen to his voice. But this time, I managed to use my own. “Hi, Went, Went's machine.” I laughed like an idiot. “This is Bailey Daley of Ukulele Lane.” I sang that part, and I'm not a bad singer, if I do say so myself. “Anyways, just wanted to tell you that we're all set with Adam. Our dog is more than welcome at the Daley household. So bring him by in the morning, okay?”

A beep sounded, and I was disconnected. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

The rest of the night I stayed close to the phone. I tried to study, but I'm only human. How was I supposed to care about the Paleozoic era when my mind was tied up willing the phone to ring? Where was he? Why didn't he have his cell phone? Isn't that why people had cell phones? So their girlfriends could reach them wherever they were?

The next morning I changed clothes three times before settling on a red tank dress, rope belt, denim jacket, dangly earrings, and my funky platform runners. I ate a bagel with cream cheese, packed my lunch, and then sat at the kitchen table and helped Mom fill out contest entries. “What are we doing this one for?” I asked her to take my mind off the kitchen clock's second hand.