My Boyfriends' Dogs by Dandi Daley Mackall Page A

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?

8
    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.
    â€œA cruise to Aruba—first prize. Second prize is another vacuum cleaner. But third prize is a year’s supply of oatmeal, which we could use for cookies, right?”
    â€œUmm-hmm.” The second hand hadn’t moved, I swear.
    â€œBailey, when is that boy supposed to bring that dog here?”
    â€œ Went is bringing Adam before school,” I explained. “I’m going outside to wait.” The sky was gray and cloudy, a little threatening. I was glad I’d opted for a jacket. I heard the garage door open, and Mom walked out, heading for the van.
    Then I saw him. He came jogging around the corner with Adam right behind him.
    â€œWent!” I shouted, waving.
    Adam poured on speed when he heard me. He passed Went and jumped into my arms. “I missed you too, Adam. You’re going to love it at my house.”
    â€œSorry I’m late.” Went looked like he’d just rolled out of bed—hair disheveled, wrinkled white T-shirt, khaki shorts, sandals. He was adorable.
    â€œNo problem. We can get Adam settled and still have time to walk to school.” I wanted to walk with Went to give us more time alone.
    Mom backed the van down the drive, then stopped. “Went,” she said coolly.
    â€œHi, Mrs. Daley. Thanks for letting my dog stay here. I haven’t forgotten about refinishing that table for you.”
    â€œNeither have I,” Mom said. “Bailey, do you want a ride?”
    I took Went’s arm. “No thanks. We’re good. Bye, Mom.”
    Mom revved the engine and drove off.
    â€œCome on. I’ll show you both around.” I couldn’t help wondering what Went would think of our little home. It was eclectic. That’s what Mom called it. The whole house was furnished with her garage-sale finds or treasures from garbage picks.
    Went and I walked through the living room, past end tables loaded with antiques and knickknacks.
    â€œWhat a cool room,” Went said.
    All the tension drained from me. “You like it?”
    â€œI love it. I wish we had time to look at everything. Is that a real war helmet? ”
    â€œWorld War Two. There’s one from Vietnam down there.” I pointed to a triangular wooden table in the far corner. “I’ll give you the tour after school if you like.”
    I showed Adam his water dish and makeshift bed. Then I kissed him goodbye. Went didn’t say goodbye to our dog, probably because Adam was so into me. We slipped out the door fast, leaving the whimpering Adam on the other side. As we walked away, I heard the scratch, scratch, scratch on our wooden front door.
    There had never been a better walk to school than the one Went and I had that gray morning. Sometimes we held hands. Sometimes Went put his arm around my waist or over my shoulders. I barely knew what we were talking about, but I was acutely aware of every movement of Went’s body next to mine. I prayed cars would drive by. I wanted everyone to see us.
    â€œHey,” he said when we were almost to school. “Sorry I