Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Feigning innocence, he laughed, “What?”
“Don’t tell me I’m pretty!”
“Why not? You are.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Fine. You’re a troll. Happy now?”
I punched him again. “I’m not a troll!”
He fell over to the side, laughing. And if that wasn’t annoying enough, Bologna moved out of my lap to lick his face.
I patted my lap and Bologna came back to me, settling at my side. Ignoring his owner, I scratched between his ears and imagined kicking Josh Caskey in the stomach for what he’d done to that sweet puppy.
“I was just trying to say something nice, ya know. You don’t have to get all mad about it.”
“I’m not mad.”
He rubbed his shoulder. “You could have fooled me. You always seem to be so cranky.”
“I’m not cranky,” I mumbled, keeping my gaze locked on Bologna.
He bumped me with his shoulder and I swear I felt a chill down my spine. “Well, not right now you’re not. But usually—”
“I’m not cranky,” I snapped.
“Right. Of course not. Totally not cranky.” He pushed to his feet and a blast of dread nearly knocked me over.
Not yet. Don’t go. Please don’t make me go home.
“I need to go in and get Nora something to eat.” He grabbed the belt and looped it around Bologna’s neck.
“Yeah. Okay. I should go anyway.” The empty house might get worried or something, I added in my head.
In true Ramsey fashion, he helped me to my feet. I acted like I didn’t need him, all the while trying to think of an excuse to make him stay.
In the end, I came up with nothing. “See ya later.”
“Listen, if you happen to hear of anyone who wants a dog let me know. My dad won’t let me keep Bologna. He said I’m the only wild animal he can afford to feed. I had to hide him in my closet last night, I’m not sure—”
“I’ll take him!” I yelled so loud and so fast that it startled him. I swallowed hard and then lowered my voice in a poor attempt to keep it cool. “I mean… I guess I could take him.”
“You sure your dad won’t mind?”
“That would require him to notice I exist, so yeah, I’m pretty sure it will be fine.”
Ramsey’s eyebrows popped up his forehead and I regretted the overshare immediately. “Thea—”
Nope. Nope. Nope. I was not talking about my crappy life. Not with Ramsey. Not with anyone. “So anyway, if you’re sure you want to get rid of him, I’d be happy to take him off your hands. Though I can’t promise I’ll keep the name Bologna. Poor dog already got kicked, the least I can do is give him a decent name.”
His forehead crinkled. “What are you going to name him then?”
We both looked down at the dog.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “Nora suggested Oscar. That’s pretty cute, don’t ya think?”
He passed me the end of the belt. “Yeah, that one’s not too bad. Her first choice was Sir Hairy Barkington though.”
When my eyes got wide, Ramsey immediately realized his mistake.
“Oh my God, don’t you dare name him that.”
My lips broke into a smile. “Why not? It’s cute.”
“You know what? I changed my mind. You can’t have him.” He lunged for the belt, missing it when I pulled Sir Hairy to my other side.
“Ramsey, stop!” I laughed, hopping on one foot.
“No way. Naming a dog Sir Hairy Barkington is animal abuse. I won’t allow it.” He once again made a dive for the makeshift leash, but I managed to spin away from him. “Thea, I’m serious,” he said, laughing the entire time.
And I laughed too. Real. Genuine. Rejuvenating.
For those minutes as he tried to get the belt back from me, with Sir Hairy barking and wagging his tail as we played, I didn’t have to pretend that everything was okay.
My mother was still dead.
My father was still broken.
But I was laughing with the boy next door. For a few brief moments, it didn’t feel like I was going to suffocate anymore.
I didn’t know it then, but that day, Ramsey Stewart saved my life.
And six years later, I’d repay him by ruining his.
“Your mother is—”
“Dead!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “It doesn’t matter if she’s allergic to dogs. She doesn’t matter at all anymore.”
“Don’t say that,” my dad scolded.
I shook my head, anger vibrating inside me. “You don’t matter, either. She’d hate you, ya know. If she could see you now, she’d hate you almost as much as I do.”
“Shut up!” he boomed, leaning against the wall for balance. “You have no idea what the last few months have been like for me.”
Okay, so I’d been wrong. My father did know I existed. Or at least he’d noticed when Sir Hairy growled at him when he came stumbling home from work drunk as a skunk. He’d yelled at me to get that damn dog out of his house.