Puppy Love (4 page)

“Oh, good, you caught him!” Rachel sounded relieved. “Sorry again about that.”

“It's okay. Actually, Adam caught him.” I glanced over at Adam with what I hoped was an appealing smile, one that made me look cool and smart and confident and much less inept than all evidence indicated.

But he wasn't paying attention to me anymore. He checked his watch, then walked into the ring.

“Hello, everyone!” He clapped his hands, which made several of the puppies, including Muckle, start barking. “Whoever's here
for the puppy kindergarten class for teens, come on in and let's get started, all right?”

“That guy's our teacher?” Jamal sounded surprised. “I think he was in my study hall last year.”

“Yeah. His name's Adam—he's a senior,” Rachel told him. “He's amazing with dogs. He's the one who told me not to give up on Gizi—said vizslas take a while to settle down, but when they do, they're great dogs.”

“So Adam goes to your school? That's cool.” I tried not to sound totally envious. What would it be like to walk the halls between classes and see that passing by?

Then again, maybe it was better that I didn't have to deal with all that magnificence in an academic setting. Too distracting.

Inside the ring, the other members of the class—the human ones, that is—were taking seats on the folding chairs set up along the perimeter of the training ring. In addition to the Chihuahua, retriever, and hound I'd seen earlier, there were now a roly-poly pug puppy and a middle-size brown-and-white mixed breed that looked like every dog in the AKC catalog all rolled into one.

“There's three seats together over there,” Jamal said. “Let's grab them.”

Rachel and I followed him. I was still holding Muckle, and Rachel was keeping Gizi tightly at her side on a short leash. But Jamal wasn't paying much attention to Ozzy, and as he headed for the empty chairs, the terrier cross-bounded forward and knocked
over a bucket sitting in the middle of the ring. About a pound of liver treats tumbled out.

“Oops, sorry!” Jamal grabbed his puppy, trying to pry open Ozzy's jaws to remove the three or four liver treats he'd snapped up.

“It's all right, mate, let him have it.” Adam wandered over and started picking up the treats. “Take a seat, all right?”

“Sure. Sorry.” Jamal dragged Ozzy away, looking sheepish. “Well, that's a good way for Oz to impress his teacher on the first day, huh?” he muttered to me and Rachel when he joined us.

Rachel giggled. “Don't worry. Adam won't hold it against him,” she said. “Against you, maybe. But not against the dog.”

Jamal grinned and dropped into the chair beside mine. Rachel sat down on my other side. I set Muckle on the ground, though I made sure to keep a firm hold on his leash. I might have gotten off on the wrong foot in terms of impressing Adam with my puppy-handling skills, but I was determined to do much better from now on. Maybe he'd be so awestruck that he'd insist on becoming my boyfriend immediately.

The thought made me blush. It also made me miss what Adam said next. I snapped back to reality when I realized everyone else was standing up.

“Huh?” I said, turning to Rachel. “Um, sorry. What'd he say?”

“He wants us to lead our puppies around in a big circle,” Rachel whispered. “That way he can see where we are in our leash training.”

“Oh.” I gulped. So far, Muckle's “leash training” consisted of
me trying to keep up as he dragged me along the sidewalks and through people's yards in our subdivision. “Okay. Come on, Muck. Heel or whatever.”

Muckle spun in a circle as all the other puppies started to move. He let out a few ear-piercing barks, then leaped happily at Gizi.

“No, Muckle. Down!” I cried.

Adam heard me and hurried over. “It's all right, no need to get angry,” he told me. “He doesn't know any better yet. That's why you're here, eh?”

“Yeah.” I smiled at him, a little blinded by his beauty. He smiled back briefly before hurrying over to help the girl with the pug, which didn't seem to be in the mood for walking, since it kept flopping over and rolling around on its back.

From that point on, Muckle made impressing the teacher extremely difficult. He jumped around, he barked at shoppers passing by outside the training ring, he tried to harass the other dogs. Generally, he behaved—or, rather, misbehaved—like his usual unruly self.

My only comfort was that Jamal and Rachel were also having trouble. Gizi wouldn't sit still for more than a microsecond, while Ozzy was alternately boisterous, clueless, and stubborn.

“He's usually not quite this bad, I swear,” Jamal murmured to me after dragging Ozzy back to our seats. The two of them had just totally flunked their loose-leash walking lesson.

“It's okay,” I whispered back, keeping one eye on Adam, who
was helping the Chihuahua attempt the exercise. Okay, maybe more than one eye. “Adam seems to think Ozzy's doing fine.”

“Yeah, maybe you're right.” Jamal smiled at me. Even with at least one eye on Adam, I couldn't help noticing Jamal was giving me that look again. That I'm-noticing-you're-a-girl look.

But I tried to just take it as a compliment and forget it. After all, I had no need to flirt with him or anyone else. I'd already met the perfect man.

“Lauren? You coming?”

I realized the perfect man was talking to me. And staring at me as if he thought I might be a little slow. My face went hot as I realized that while I'd been staring at him, possibly with drool involved, he'd been calling me and Muckle up for our turn. Oops.

“We're coming,” I blurted out. I jumped up so quickly that I surprised Muckle, who was actually taking a rest break under my seat. He let out a yelp as I yanked him bodily forward.

“Easy with the leash,” Adam said. “Give him a chance to figure out what you're doing and choose to come along, rather than forcing him.”

Oops again. “Sorry,” I said to both Adam and Muckle. “Now what do you want us to do?”

Muckle turned out to be a bit better at loose-leash walking than Ozzy, but not by much. Still, I hoped Adam noticed the way I was paying attention and trying to do exactly as he instructed. That had always won me points with my teachers at school. Maybe it would work in this case too.

The last ten minutes of class involved Adam supervising our puppies while they were allowed to play freely with one another. At last—something Muckle was good at. He ran around, jumping on the other puppies and having a total blast. Adam had to stop him from squashing the Chihuahua once or twice, but otherwise everything went pretty well.

“Okay, people,” Adam said at last. “That's our time. See you all on Tuesday afternoon. In the meantime, keep working on the exercises we learned today, okay? Good class, all.”

The girl with the retriever puppy giggled and clapped, and we all joined in. Adam grinned and swept into a bow. I was pretty sure he was just being funny, but he looked quite dashing regardless.

I grabbed Muckle and gave him a hug. “Good boy,” I whispered into his silky fur. Over the top of his head, I glanced at Adam. He'd stopped near the edge of the ring and was chatting with the pug's owner. I really wanted to go over there and join them, get to know Adam better. Maybe even figure out if he'd felt that electric tingle when we touched earlier too.

But no. That wasn't going to happen. Me, Lauren the wimp, go up to a hot guy and start chatting him up? Yeah, that was about as likely as Muckle winning first prize in an obedience competition.

“So that was fun, huh?” Jamal's voice broke into my thoughts. He'd snapped Ozzy's leash back on.

“Yeah.” I set Muckle down and leashed him as well. Rachel joined us, and the three of us walked out of the store together, discussing the class. I held my breath as we passed Adam, hoping
he'd say something to us. Well, to me. But he just smiled briefly and then returned to his conversation with the pug girl.

Oh well. I had seven and a half more weeks, Tuesdays and Saturdays, to convince him we were meant to be together. I was just going to have to figure out how to make the most of it. Maybe Robert could help—he was much more of a romantic than I was.

As we stepped outside, I glanced around for the big, boxy Volvo, but it was nowhere in sight. I hoped Robert hadn't forgotten he was supposed to pick me up. Sometimes when he got involved in shopping, he could forget the rest of the world existed.

“How are you two getting home?” Jamal asked. “My car's here if you need a ride.”

“Thanks,” Rachel said. “But my dad's picking me up.”

“Me too,” I said. Then I laughed. “I mean, Rachel's dad isn't picking me up, but I do have a ride coming.”

“Oh. Cool.” Jamal actually looked disappointed. He glanced down at Ozzy, who was sitting quietly at his feet. “Anyway, thanks for telling me about this class, Rachel. Look—it's working already! This is the least hyper Ozzy has been since I got him.”

Rachel and I both laughed. “Muckle too,” I agreed. My puppy wasn't being quite as quiet as Ozzy, but he was sniffing around with much less than his usual exuberance. His tail was wagging gently, and he seemed pretty mellow.

“I just hope Gizi does better this time,” Rachel said, rubbing her puppy's head as the vizsla stared intently at a scrap of paper
blowing past in the parking lot. “She's way more active than I was expecting when we got her.”

“Tell me about it.” Jamal rolled his eyes. “Ozzy seemed so nice and sane when I first saw him. He totally had me fooled!”

Rachel and I laughed again. I already felt pretty comfortable with both of them, which was kind of amazing. Like I said, I wasn't exactly shy. But I wasn't the type to bond instantly with total strangers, either.

“Where'd you get him?” I asked Jamal.

“The shelter over in Riverside,” he replied. “I wanted a dog to run with.”

“You run?” I said, mostly because it seemed like the polite thing to say. I had about as much interest in running as Muckle did in calculus. Or as I did in calculus, for that matter.

“I'm on the cross-country team at school, so I run almost every day,” he replied. “I figured it'd be more fun with a dog along, you know?”

So he was a jock. Score one for judging a book by its cover.

“You should have told me,” Rachel told Jamal with a smile. “You could've borrowed Gizi. She loves to run.”

“By the way,” I said to her, “I've been meaning to ask—how'd you come up with Gizi's name? It's really pretty.”

“It's the name of some old Hungarian actress.” Rachel shrugged. “My dad came up with it. He's super into anything Hungarian—his parents were both born over there, but they moved here years before he came along.”

“That's cool.” Jamal looked interested. “I never knew that. Did Lauren tell you she named Muckle after an island?”

“Yeah, Muckle Roe. It's Scottish, since he's a sheltie,” I told the other girl.

Just then a large, spotlessly clean black sedan pulled up to the curb. The windows were rolled down, and a stern-looking man with a mustache leaned out the driver's side.

“Hello, Rachel,” he called in a booming voice—the type of voice that demanded attention. “How did it go today?”

“Fine.” Rachel gave a tug on Gizi's leash. “That's my dad. See you next time.”

Jamal and I said good-bye, and both Muckle and Ozzy started jumping around again, trying to get at the car. Rachel patted both puppies, smiled shyly at us humans, then hurried over and got into the sedan with Gizi. Her father drove off immediately.

“Wow,” I said. “Rachel's dad isn't what I was expecting after meeting her. She's so nice and sweet, but he seems a little scary. Is he always like that?”

“I don't know.” Jamal shrugged. “I only have a couple of classes with her. And she seems pretty quiet.”

“Oh.” I realized Jamal and I were alone together. And he was giving me that look again. That look I wished I could get from Adam.

“So what's your story, Lauren?” Jamal said. “What do you like to do for fun? You know—besides try to keep up with your hyper puppy.” He grinned and leaned down to give Muckle a pat.

“Oh, just the usual, I guess.” I scanned the parking lot, hoping Robert would show up soon. “Hanging out, listening to music, you know.”

He untangled the leash from around Ozzy's front leg. “What kind of music do you like?”

“All different stuff—alternative, postpunk, that kind of deal. My favorite band is Skerrabra.”

“Ska-what?”

“Skerrabra,” I echoed. “They're, um, Scottish.”

“Just like Muckle! Cool.” Jamal shrugged. “I don't think I know them, though. I mostly listen to rock and hip-hop. But if this Skaberra—”

“Skerrabra,” I corrected.

“Yeah, them.” He smiled at me. “Maybe I can borrow some of their stuff from you sometime—I'm always looking for music to work out to.”

“Sure,” I said politely, though I was pretty sure there wasn't much point in following through. Jamal didn't come across as the typical Skerrabra fan, to say the least.

Still, he was pretty cool for a jock. Even if he didn't know anything about music. Maybe it would be worth burning a CD for him. I could help him open up his mind to a whole new world of cool music. Wasn't that the sort of thing friends did for each other? And strangely, he was already feeling kind of like a friend. Even if we didn't have anything in common other than out-of-control puppies.

“Cool. Thanks.” Jamal shifted his weight from one foot to the other and shot me a sidelong look. “Um, so Lauren—do you have a boyfriend?”

I froze, not sure what to say. What could I say?
I'm working on it?

At that moment, in a roar of exhaust, the Volvo finally arrived. Robert squealed to a stop at the curb right in front of us, then leaped out with a flourish.