Puppy Love Page 14

  “Flyball?” I’d heard him mention that before. From my Internet research, I knew it was a dog sport. But that was about all I knew.

  He returned his gaze to the road. “It’s a blast,” he said. “Jinx is the height dog on our team—that’s what we call the shortest dog, since it’s how they decide the height of the jumps for the whole team, and . . .”

  With that, he was off and running again. We spent the rest of the drive discussing all the intricacies of flyball. I hadn’t known it had that many intricacies, actually. But it was interesting. Sort of.

  Finally we pulled into the parking lot of Riverside High School, which was a couple of towns over from Maple View. “Is this where the competition is?” I asked.

  “Yep.” He pulled into an empty spot and cut the engine. “They set up the equipment on the playing fields.”

  As soon as we got out of the car, I could hear barking. Lots of barking. “I guess the playing fields are that way, huh?” I quipped.

  “Right.” Adam was busy clipping on his dogs’ leashes. Both of them were alert and excited; Shasta stared intently in the direction of the barking, while Lark spun in circles and yipped.

  Muckle had heard the barking too, of course. I kept a tight hold on his leash as he jumped around, barking and smelling things.

  “Do you have a free hand?” Adam asked, leaning into the van. He came out holding an overstuffed tote bag, which he handed to me.

  “Um, sure.” Gripping Muckle’s leash with my left hand, I slung the bag over my other shoulder. “Wow, it’s heavy. What’s in here?”

  “Liver snaps, poo bags, water bottles—the usual.” Adam slammed the door shut and glanced at me, his eyes flashing with excitement. “Let’s go.”

  We hurried around the corner of the school to the sight of a three-ring circus. At least that was how it looked to me. There were dogs and people everywhere, swarming all around the brightly painted agility equipment. Two rings were set up side by side, with white rope separating them off. At the moment, a rangy brown-and-white dog was zipping around the course, while several people stood in the other ring, having some kind of consultation over one of the jumps. Off to the side, a tent city of lawn chairs and shaded dog crates lined the edge of the field.

  “Wow,” I said, taking it all in. “This is really something.”

  “It’s great, isn’t it?” Adam sounded distracted as he scanned the crowd. “I think I see my coach over there.”

  I had to scurry to keep up as he went striding off toward the crates and lawn chairs. “You have a coach?” I said. “I thought you were a coach.”

  “I am. But only for lower levels. So far.” Adam tugged on Lark’s leash as the border collie paused to sniff at the grass. “Phil helps me out with the girls when we compete at this level.”

  Soon we reached a cluster of people standing near the crates. Adam introduced one of them—a tall, balding man with crooked teeth and intelligent green eyes—as his coach.

  “This is Lauren,” he told Phil. “And that’s Muckle. They’re interested in maybe getting into agility, so they came along to check things out today.”

  Okay, that wasn’t quite how I’d expected to be introduced. Still, maybe it wasn’t realistic to think he’d refer to me as “Lauren, the love of my life” or “Lauren, my amazing new girlfriend” or even “Lauren, my date.”

  “Hi, Lauren,” Phil said in a booming voice. “Welcome. I’m sure Adam will put you right to work.”

  He chortled, and the other people standing with him laughed too. I smiled politely, hanging on to Muckle as he tried to drag me over to say hi to the floppy-eared spaniel scrabbling at the wire door of the nearest crate.

  “Easy, Muck,” I said, scooping him up. “We’ve got to stay out of the way, okay?”

  Muckle wiggled and barked in my ear, nearly deafening me. Noticing that Adam was wandering off, I smiled politely at Phil and the others and hurried to catch up.

  “So what happens now?” I asked Adam.

  I was hoping he’d say we could sit down together and watch the competition for a while. The images were already playing out in my head. Adam would tell me what was happening, I’d scoot a little closer on the bleachers to let someone by, his hand would drift to my knee . . .

  Blinking, I realized he was walking off again. “Wait, what?” I called, scurrying after him.

  “I said, I need to sign in.” He squinted toward a large plastic tent at one end of the field. “It looks crowded over there. Can you hold the girls for a sec?”

  Before I could say a word, I found myself holding two more leashes. As Adam walked off, Lark strained against her collar, whining softly.

  “Um, it’s okay, girl,” I told her. “Stay here with me, okay?”

  Shasta sat down, gazing at me with mild suspicion. Or maybe it was disdain; I couldn’t tell. Meanwhile Lark started pacing, threatening to jerk the leash out of my hand with each pass. I looped the handle around my left wrist, hanging on to the other two leashes with my right hand while trying not to let the tote bag slide off my shoulder. Muckle seemed to find it great fun to follow Lark and sniff her butt every chance he got, which Lark mostly ignored.

  It seemed to take forever for Adam to return, but finally he hurried over, looking vaguely tense. “We’re up soon,” he announced, reaching for Lark’s leash.

  I shivered as his hand brushed mine. Then I held out Shasta’s leash, but Adam was already heading off without her. I shrugged and followed, with Muckle and Shasta trotting along beside me.

  We caught up outside one of the rings. Adam was stroking Lark’s head. He glanced up as I arrived.

  “Listen, thanks for being here, Lauren,” he said with a nervous smile. “It’s nice to have a friendly face around. Nobody in my family is into dog sports that much, so I’m usually juggling both girls by myself. I’m really glad you came.”

  He looked so sincere, so vulnerable, that my heart melted. “Me too,” I said. “It’s fun.”

  We kept smiling at each other for a long moment. Once again, I felt that spark pass between us. He was so good-looking it was hard to believe he was real, and here, and on a date with me of all people. I drank in his eyes, his cheekbones, his broad shoulders . . .

  Then a sharp whistle snapped me out of it. Adam blinked and straightened up, suddenly all business.

  “We’re on,” he said.

  “Good luck!” I called as he and Lark jogged away.

  I dropped the tote bag on the grass at the edge of the ring and sat down beside it, being careful to keep hold of both leashes. Muckle was dashing back and forth in front of me, barking like crazy. Luckily, nobody around us seemed to mind, or even give him a second glance. Probably because a lot of their dogs were acting the same way.

  Shasta was a little better; she mostly stood straining gently at the end of her leash, her eyes locked on Adam. I knew how she felt.

  It was cool watching Adam and Lark do their thing. Lark moved so fast through the agility course that she was little more than a blur, and Adam was with her every step, directing her with hand motions and body language. I barely had time to take a breath before the round was over.

  “Whoo-hoo!” I cheered, jumping to my feet. “Way to go, guys!”

  Adam was grinning as he jogged back over. “Well, that didn’t suck,” he announced, grabbing Lark in a big hug. Shasta leaped toward him, wanting to get in on the action. Again, I knew how she felt. Feeling daring, I gave Adam a tentative pat on the shoulder as he rolled around with both border collies—oh, and Muckle, who had decided to join in the celebration as well.

  “That was amazing,” I said. “You two looked great out there.”

  “Thanks.” He grinned up at me. “Just wait until you see Shasta go!” He patted the ground beside him. “Have a seat—we’ve got a few minutes before our turn, so we can hang out and watch some of the other rounds.”

  Now that was more like it. I sat down again, scooting as close to him as I dared—which wasn’t particular
ly close, actually, since Shasta insisted on pressing up against him. Oh well. So far this “date” wasn’t superromantic, but who needed flowers and soft music, really? I was getting to see Adam do what he did best, which was even better.

  We spent the next few minutes living out my little fantasy from earlier. Well, parts of it, anyway. As several other dogs took their turns in the ring, Adam explained what was going on. A few times he even leaned close enough for our shoulders to brush—and he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to pull away.

  Then it was Shasta’s turn. And Adam was right—she truly was impressive. She flew around the course so fast that the audience was cheering even before she finished. Adam was breathless when he came back.

  “That was incredible!” I exclaimed as Muckle and Lark jumped around and barked, presumably congratulating Shasta in doggy language. “So did she win?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” Adam bit his lip and glanced at an older woman holding a clipboard nearby. “They’ll announce it soon.”

  When the woman made the announcement, it turned out that Shasta had won—and Lark had come in second! Adam let out a whoop and pumped his fist, while both border collies went crazy. He hugged each of them in turn—then spun around and hugged me!

  I gasped as he pulled me close, nearly squeezing the breath out of me. “We did it,” he mumbled into my hair. “We did it!”

  Now this was more like it! Okay, so it had taken a doggy triumph to get me some real up-close-and-personal contact. I’d take it!

  “Yay,” I said, finally realizing that I should be hugging him back. I wrapped my arms around him, loving the feel of being so close to him.

  After a moment Adam pulled back slightly, smiling down at me. His face was so close that my breath caught in my throat. I found myself very focused on his lips. . . .

  “Congratulations, dog boy,” a sardonic voice said right behind me.

  Adam let go of me and stepped back. “Oh. Hi, Tab.”

  I glanced back. A girl was standing there, arms crossed over her chest. She looked familiar. So did her dog, a Brittany that was already sniffing butts and noses with Muckle and the border collies. It was the girl from the dog park—the sporty-looking blonde I’d seen a couple of times now.

  Now that I got a better look at her, I realized she was probably closer to Adam’s age than to mine. She was also quite pretty, with hazel eyes and a deep tan. She looked me up and down in an appraising way.

  “I’ve seen you around, haven’t I?” she said. “I recognize your sheltie.”

  “Um, yeah. Dog park.” I smiled uncertainly, wondering if that was how she knew Adam, too. They both seemed to spend a lot of time there.

  “I’m Tabitha.” She stuck out her hand. “Don’t tell me Adam suckered another girl into wanting to hang out with him.”

  “Um, I’m Lauren.” I shook her hand, not sure how to respond to the rest.

  Adam frowned. “Lay off, Tab.”

  Tabitha ignored him, her pretty face twisting into a weird little smile. “I hope you’re just in it for the agility tips or whatever, Lauren. Because if you’re looking for anything else from this one, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

  “Whatever, Tab.” Adam sounded annoyed.

  “Whatever yourself.” She tossed him a smirk. “See you around, Lauren.”

  With that, she spun on her heel and marched off. The Brittany trotted after her. I had to hold Muckle back from following as well.

  “What was that all about?” I asked Adam, a little freaked out by the bitterness in Tabitha’s eyes when she’d looked at Adam.

  He rolled his eyes. “Sorry about that. Ex-girlfriend,” he said. “She never really understood my passion for dog sports.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t say anything else, though I couldn’t help feeling uneasy. I mean, wasn’t Tabitha a dog sport enthusiast herself? Why else would she be at the competition?

  I didn’t have much time to think about it. Phil was hurrying over to congratulate Adam and his dogs, followed by a stream of other well-wishers. Adam seemed to know everyone at the competition. Before I knew it, he was offering a ride home to a skinny guy with a goatee and a very large Doberman. A tiny, round woman with a corgi overheard and begged to tag along. Within minutes, we were all piling into the minivan.

  It turned out the Doberman always insisted on riding shotgun, so I ended up in the far backseat with Muckle and the corgi. The other two humans sat in the middle with the border collies and chattered nonstop with Adam about the day’s competition, only occasionally remembering to include me in the conversation.

  I slumped in my seat, feeling vaguely disappointed. Still, no biggie—after we dropped the others off, Adam and I could get this date back on track. Maybe even recapture that moment that Tabitha had interrupted.

  To my surprise, I soon realized Adam was pulling into my neighborhood. He stopped in front of my house and hurried around to let me out the side door.

  “Oh,” I said. “I thought we were going to grab something to eat?”

  He looked sheepish. “Sorry, I thought we’d have more time. I still have to drive these guys home, then go get Jinx before flyball. Rain check?”

  “Sure.” I forced a smile.

  Muckle and I watched from the sidewalk as the minivan pulled away in a cloud of exhaust. Okay, that definitely hadn’t been the kind of first date I’d been expecting. I pulled out my phone, my finger already moving to the preset for Robert’s number. Then I remembered: We still weren’t speaking.

  With a sigh, I stuck the phone back in my pocket and headed inside with Muckle.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sunday funday

  I spent most of Sunday morning moping around the house, wondering if Adam was going to call to ask me out again. Or just to say hi. Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen? I wasn’t sure, since I’d never been out on a real date before. Robert was right—the seventh-grade dance didn’t count.

  Speaking of Robert, I was really hoping he’d call too. I knew him—he had to be dying of curiosity wondering how things had gone yesterday. Wasn’t that reason enough to get over himself and call to make up?

  But when the phone finally rang, it wasn’t either of them. It was Rachel.

  “Hey, Lauren,” she said. “I got your number off my phone from when you called before. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, it’s cool,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “I was calling to see if you’re doing anything this afternoon,” she said. “Because Jamal and I and some other people from school might try to catch that zombie movie. Want to come?”

  My first instinct was to say thanks but no thanks. I had very important sitting-by-the-phone plans, after all. And I didn’t want to be a third wheel on their movie date.

  But maybe that was the wrong attitude on both counts. Rachel had mentioned that “other people from school” were going too. If she and Jamal were testing the waters in a group setting, I wanted to support them. As for Adam and Robert? Sitting by the phone wouldn’t make either of them call any faster.

  Besides, I did want to see that movie. And even if Robert and I made up in the next ten seconds, there was still no way he’d go with me. While his hatred of horror was all-encompassing, zombie movies were probably his least favorite. Not only were they full of blood and guts, but tattered clothes as well, which was even more terrifying and horrific in Robert’s eyes.

  “Sure, that sounds great,” I told Rachel. “Thanks. I’m really glad you called.”

  * * *

  “I can’t believe I’m the only one here who’s never seen a single zombie movie,” Rachel said as our little group walked away from the snack bar bearing drinks, candy, and popcorn. “Should I be worried?”

  The group included me, Jamal, and the “other people from school,” who had turned out to consist of Jamal’s friend Kenny and Rachel’s friend Addie. Kenny was the guy Jamal had told me about—the one who’d tried to talk him into getting a big, tough, macho dog. He was pr
etty much the opposite of big, tough, and macho himself. Actually, he reminded me a little bit of Muckle. He was short and lean and happy-go-lucky and seemed physically incapable of remaining still and quiet for more than a millisecond.

  Then there was Rachel’s friend Addie, a bigmouthed, boisterous redhead with a loud laugh and a sarcastic wit. She wasn’t anything like the type of friend I would have pictured Rachel having, but I liked her immediately.

  At first I was afraid I’d feel like a fifth wheel in the group—after all, I was the only newbie, the only County Day kid, the not-quite-not-shy girl who didn’t do well with strangers. But that concern faded after the first thirty seconds or so. All the MVHS kids were so nice and friendly and cool that they would have made a hermit feel comfortable hanging out with them.

  “You’ll love it, Rach. You haven’t lived until you’ve watched a zombie eat a human brain.” Addie elbowed me. “Am I right?”

  “Totally.” I grinned at Rachel. “Don’t worry, nobody will be able to tell if you close your eyes at the gory parts.”

  “But don’t be a wuss,” Kenny put in, scooting forward to open the door for the rest of us. “You’ve got to watch the whole thing or it doesn’t count.”

  “Doesn’t count for what?” Jamal asked him.

  Kenny shrugged and grinned. “Just doesn’t count, dude.”

  “Good to know.” Rachel walked past them into the theater.

  I followed, mentally calculating the best way to make sure she and Jamal ended up sitting next to each other. So far, they weren’t acting particularly couple-y. That wasn’t really a surprise—Rachel was pretty shy, and Jamal probably didn’t want to scare her off by being pushy. I figured sitting beside each other in the dark for a couple of hours might help them feel closer.

  Somehow, though, it didn’t work out that way. I tried to herd the two of them in ahead of me so they’d be stuck at the end of the row together, but then Rachel decided she needed to go out and grab more napkins. She wiggled out back past us, and somehow I ended up sitting between Jamal and Addie with Rachel out by the aisle beside Kenny. Oops.