still gripping my boots to me tightly. My last sensation was that of Peter coming over and dropping down onto the mattress beside me, jiggling my prone form in the process.
***
Peter was very subdued at dinner. We were eating in the ceremonial hut with a few other people, but he refused to look at anything but Buster or his food. I tried to crack some jokes but they weren’t working.
“What do you call a fake noodle?”
Peter sighed. “I don’t know. What?”
“An impasta.” I nudged him. “Get it? An impasta? That’s funny, right?”
“Sure.” His response was without emotion of any kind.
“Okay, how about this one: What happens when it rains cats and dogs?”
“Can this be over now?”
“No. Just answer me. What happens?”
“I don’t know. You get wet with dogs? And cats?”
I shoved him again. “No, silly. You step in poodles! Get it? Poodles?” I grabbed him and hugged him close. “Come on, Peter, that shit is funny. You know it is.”
Buster got all excited over the hugging and started jumping up and down, trying to lick our faces.
“Go away, poodle!” I said, laughing at my own little private joke. “Raining Busters! It was raining gang busters and now there’re all these poodles all over the place! Ha! That’s funny!”
Peter shook his head at me. “You’ve totally lost it, haven’t you?” He stood up to leave, still shaking his head, not even a ghost of a smile on his face.
I just kept on grinning. “Be careful, Peter. There are poodles everywhere. Don’t step in one. Or on one.” I fell back laughing at that one.
Buster took advantage of the situation and lick-attacked me, and I was too weak to fight him off. “Buster, quit, you mangey mutt. Ew, God, your breath is heinous. Get away.” I shoved him off me and tried to get up, but Buster had me down and he knew it. My one good arm was no use against his devious plan to bathe me in saliva until I vomited from the stench and disgustingness of it.
Paci appeared out of nowhere and took mercy on me. “Come here, you little turd. Leave that poor girl alone.” He grabbed Buster and picked him up, smart enough to keep the dog away from his face. He held out a hand to me. “Here. Let me help you up. You’re too vulnerable lying on the ground like that.”
Some of my humor faded. I looked around to see who was watching us, but Peter didn’t seem to care that Paci was being nice to me and everyone else seem otherwise occupied in conversation. I locked wrists with him and stood, taking a few moments to brush the dirt off my lap and legs.
Paci reached up and pulled a few leaves from my hair and motioned for me to turn around.
I turned and stood there embarrassed while he brushed my back off for me. He stayed away from my butt, and for that I was glad. I probably would have taken off sprinting if he’d so much as flicked it at that point.
I turned back in time to see Paci bending over and putting Buster on the ground. He scratched him behind the ears a couple times before releasing him. “Now go away and bother somebody else.”
Buster wasted no time following Paci’s orders, running over to the nearest girl with food in her hands.
“Doesn’t anyone ever feed that mutt?” I asked.
“Three times a day he gets choice bits from the kitchen. I’ve seen him eat every last scrap, too. I can’t believe he’s not twice his size by now,” said Paci.
“It’s all the nosing around and lick-attacks that he does that keep him so trim.”
The conversation stalled and I felt stupid, standing there talking about Buster. And I was still worried someone was going to see me talking to Paci and call me a slut over it. “Okay, well … thanks for the rescue. I’ll see you later.” I started to walk away, but Paci held his hand out, catching my arm.
“Do you mind if I walk with you? I wanted to talk to you …
Jane Hunt
Jonathan Maberry
K. Sterling
Tara Fox Hall
James Kakalios
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Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley
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Shiloh Walker
Mary Balogh