Bandit was the purring king, but Precious was pretty good herself. The difference was she could go from a loving cat to shredding you in the blink of an eye. She was like the temperamental pit bull of the cat world. I knew many pit bulls were good dogs, but it only took once for one to eat your face off.
That was probably why our local shelter’s website showed more pit bulls or pit-bull mixes than any other breed. They must have shown their ugly side, and their former owners decided their health and safety were important enough to surrender their dogs to be adopted by someone else. It was either that, or they were trying to rent a place and quickly found out that landlords wouldn’t rent to them. That was usually because their insurance wouldn’t allow that breed in the house. Of course, pit bulls weren’t the only breed on the ‘bad dog’ list. I’d learned that little factoid listening to my mom complain about other canine reasons that forced her to turn down renters.
My solution to the ‘bad dog’ dilemma was to get myself a Lab. They weren’t voted the most popular dog year after year without good reason. I knew that Mayor Duke (I was sure this moniker would soon be forgotten) was the best dog I could ever hope for.
I looked at the clock and saw that I’d gotten so distracted by my thoughts that there was no longer time for me to run. What brought all that on? I had no idea. Then I remembered I would see Brook in a little while and smiled. I really did love her.
◊◊◊
“You play Beverly again,” Dad told me as I came into the kitchen.
We’d managed to face Beverly in the playoffs for the last three years. Then this year, they’d had to forfeit our regular-season matchup because of the flu epidemic. Their coach was defense-minded. It would be interesting to see what he planned for Saturday’s game. Our only saving grace was that he didn’t have a full week to prepare for our change in play style. When I thought about it, Waterloo had come into the game with a good plan to try to steal an errant lateral. Coach Hope had us watch some rugby games, and it happened more often than I wanted to think. It wasn’t
“I didn’t want to play Beverly. They beat us once, and we’ve won the last two. They know us about as well as any of our conference rivals. I would much rather we were playing someone we’ve never faced before,” I reasoned.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
It seemed Dad was more confident than I was. The playoffs were a big deal, but for Beverly, it would be more personal. They would try to make the most of their shot at redemption for the last two times we beat them.
◊◊◊
I worried about the game until we picked up Brook. Seeing her smiling face reminded me that she just made my day better.
“You look happy,” she said as Paul held the door for her.
When Brook was seated, I leaned over and kissed her. She smelled of mint from her shampoo, and her lips tasted like cherries. She must have put on a flavored lip gloss.
I pulled away and looked deep into her sexy eyes.
“I’m happy because I am so lucky to have you in my life.”
Brook sucked in her breath and bit her lower lip. It was cute to see her suddenly look shy.
“Damn it. You say something like that, and I’ll want Paul to take the long way to school. We’ll surely be late.”
Paul had heard the last part when he got in the front seat.
“You don’t pay me enough to captain the love boat.”
We both giggled. If I were Paul, I wouldn’t want to witness that either. Then again, he might learn something.
“I vote we either go to your cabin or turn back to my place,” I suggested.
“I vote I take you two to school so I don’t have to explain this to your moms,” Paul said.
At the ripe old age of 23, he’d officially become a curmudgeon.
We both rolled our eyes at him as he took us to school. That didn’t mean we couldn’t make him uncomfortable by making out in the back seat. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of this a long time ago. Making out with Brook before school was a great idea.
When we pulled into the school’s drop-off zone, Brook pointed out the downside of this activity.
“Uhm, David,” she said and pointed. “Boner alert.”
Or should I say upside? Mr. Happy was convinced that Brook was about to be nice to him and he’d taken notice. Paul thought my predicament was hilarious. I started mumbling something about karma being a bitch. Maybe we needed Cassidy to drive us in the morning. She at least wouldn’t have a problem watching.
“Dead kittens, kissing Yuri’s grandma …” I mumbled under my breath to deflate the issue.
Nope. Nothing. I looked at Brook and smiled.
“What the hell, Brook?” I complained as she bailed out of the car.
She should at least help fix it if she caused it, right? Damn Tami!
High school boys had popped woodies since there was high school. I did what they all did: I pulled my shirt out of my jeans and used my book bag to disguise the problem. No one would notice, I was sure.
◊◊◊
