by Katie Dunn
My dad comes back and stands in the kitchen doorway. "All right, boys. Come on." Both of the dogs do as they're told—despite Lenny's looking like he's being betrayed, like he's going against his will.
He knows he has no choice. He makes out like it takes a great deal of effort just for him to walk out the door. That dog can be so dramatic sometimes.
I smile and shake my head. He might be a handful, but it's hilarious to watch him when he acts like that. Although, he can be a good boy—when he wants to be.
Troy is always good. Not just when he feels like it. He's the good dog, and Lenny's the troublemaker.
͠
When we get to school, I lean on my locker for support. I can't stop yawning. My loss of sleep takes its toll.
"So, how was the sleepover?" Tom asks.
I go through my locker, sparing him a glance. "It was fine. I guess."
His face wears a puzzled expression. "What?" I ask.
"I thought that you were excited about Riley coming over."
I want to tell him about last night's events, but I don't want him to worry. So, I don't tell him. "Yeah, we had fun. We didn't get much sleep though."
Why can't it always be this easy to make conversation with him? We might not have the comfortable silence that most couples have, but maybe we don't need it. An idea hits me so fast, I don't even think about it. I just go for it. I kiss him.
At first, he stiffens, clearly surprised. Most of the time we try to be discrete. Kissing at school isn't really our thing. Most of the time we wait until we're alone. And we never take things any further than that. Also, Tom tries to be a gentleman.
We pull away. He grins, and I can feel one spreading across my face too. He grabs my hand, and I lace my fingers through his. I admire him for a minute. Being a small town girl, I never thought I'd be dating a city boy. Tom was born in Charleston. Fortunately, his Southern boy charm masks the city snob.
I turn back to my locker. "So, the Lyle's party is next week. Do you wanna be my date?"
Matthew Lyle is the mayor of Brighton. His prim wife, Melinda, insists they throw several parties a year. She says it's good for our town to get out and socialize, but I think she likes to show off. My mom has been friends with Melinda since they were kids, so we have to go to their parties. And yes, Dean is one of their three sons.
Tom's smile becomes a smirk. "Why, Miss Thompson, I would be honored." He kisses my hand.
I giggle. "Come on. Let's get to class." I start pulling him in that direction.
"Hey, Thompson!"
Oh, no. I could recognize that voice anywhere. Even though I don't want to.
Dean.
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to look intimidating. "What do you want, Dean?"
He laughs, and I don't know why. I didn't say anything funny. He probably doesn't take me very seriously. Even though he really should.
"Don't act like you don't know," he demands. "I saw you yesterday."
Well, I'm screwed. If Dean knows about what I did, I'm in a huge predicament. Provided he goes telling the right people, I could be experimented on, tortured, or worse.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"I saw you laughing, Thompson. And for some reason, I keep thinking you had something to do with it."
My heart pounds out of my chest. Something way too familiar these days.
"Let's be rational here, Dean. Yes, I'll admit I did laugh. But how on earth could I have possibly made your water bottle explode? I assure you. I had nothing to do with it."
After about a minute or so, Dean's face appears to become sensible.
"Watch your back, Thompson. Next time, I won't be so nice." He stares at me a moment before leaving.
I almost sink to my knees in relief. That was close. Our confrontation could have been bad. Any confrontation between us most often is.
Tom catches my hand and pulls me in the direction of our classroom. "Everything will be okay, Britt. Everything's gonna be okay."
Later, Derek joins us at lunch. "Hey, guys," he says, as he sets his tray down. "What're y'all talking about?"
Tom drags his gaze from me to Derek. "Soccer tryouts."
Derek's face becomes uninterested. "Oh." He takes a bite out of his apple as he ponders something. His attention focuses on the wall. "Hey, do you think Dad would let me help out after school today?"
I shrug. "Yeah, probably. If you want. Dad can use all the help he can get."
A grin spreads across his face. "Awesome."
Derek is really starting to grow up. He probably wants to start taking on some more responsibility. I'm proud of my little brother. He's beginning to become a man. I might be proud of him, but I'm also sad that he's getting older.
͠
After school, my mom drops us off at Dad's shop. "We'll see you when y'all get home."
"All right. Love y'all," I say to her and the twins, before I jump out of the car.
I follow Derek into the shop. I set my bag in the desk chair behind the counter, while Derek tosses his on the floor. Maybe I was wrong about the responsibility thing.
In the back, my dad works on welding the rear fender for a new bike. His employees work on the other parts of the bike. One works on the gas tank, and another shapes the handlebars.
I tell Derek to help me get Troy and Lenny out of their way. They're not really in the way, but it's best if they're out front with us.
Troy lies on the cement floor beside my dad. All I have to do is say, "Come on, boy!" And he comes. I love Troy's obedience.
I notice Derek is still looking around for Lenny. So I command Troy to go find him. "Troy, go find Lenny. Go on. Find him." He turns and hurries through the shop.
Derek looks my way, and I motion for him to follow me to the front of the shop.
I sit down at the computer. My dad already has a list of parts to be ordered there waiting for me. I realize that I should let Derek do it. It's the perfect time for him to learn. He pulls up the chair beside me. I teach him how to put in the orders and then watch him do a few.
The back door gets nudged open, and Troy strolls in with Lenny behind him. "Good boy, Troy. Good boy." I reach down and pat the top of his head. He seems pleased with himself.
Eventually, my dad brings us a snack, as we finish ordering parts. It isn't long before I notice that Derek is breaking off pieces of his sandwich and slipping them to Lenny.
Feeling bad that I never give Troy any of my food, I tear part of my sandwich off and sneak it to him without anyone being fully aware of it.
Troy seems to appreciate the small reward. He stares up at me gratefully, whereas Lenny stares at Derek with expectant, greedy eyes. Nothing is ever good enough for that picky dog. Ever. It's forevermore want, want, want with him.
I throw away our trash, and Dad supervises Derek working with the computer. I sit back down beside them at the counter.
"Britt, earlier today one of the guys told me he knew someone that might be interested in working here. So in a couple of days he's supposed to come in, and we'll go from there."
I'm kind of down that my dad has found someone already. I figured it would take longer than two days. I feel like I'm being replaced or fired.
"That's good news, Dad." I try to be happy. My dad has needed extra help around here for a while now. But what am I gonna do with my time? Possibly spend more time with Troy. I should give him more attention. He clearly deserves it. But being the selfless boy he is, he doesn't ask for it. He gives the impression that all he wants is a good home.
Around five o'clock all of the employees leave for the day. Normally we'd leave shortly after, but today we have to stay late.
We have to wait on the painter to bring some bike parts back. We don't have enough room in the shop to paint them ourselves, so we have to take them to a painter.
Derek bounces a ball off the wall, so it comes back to him. Lenny's eyes flick back and forth, watching the ball.
Troy sits on the floor beside my chair
. Poor Troy needs something to do. Like chase a ball around. "Hey, Derek. Toss the ball over here." He tosses the ball to me. "Troy, you want the ball?" I throw it across the room. "Go get it!"
Both Troy and Lenny go after the ball. But Lenny steals it before Troy can even get close. He barks at him. Probably mad that he stole the ball.
Lenny brings the ball to Derek, whose face makes a look of disgust as soon as it touches his hand. "Ew. Dog drool." My dad and I laugh at him.
Lights shine into the room as night falls. My dad leans over the counter to see through the glass of the door. An SUV pulls up.
Derek walks over to the counter. "It's about time," he murmurs.
The door opens, and two men walk in. I don't recognize either one of them, and apparently neither does my dad. "Sorry, guys. We're closed for the night."
"Shut up," the one in the black shirt says.
A spark of anger flares inside me. My dad said nothing to offend the two men.
Derek decides he doesn't want to be near these guys, so he jumps over the counter, joining us. An uneasy feeling comes over me as well, but I don't want to admit it to myself.
"Look, can we help you or not?"
Both men look surprised at my snide tone. "You can start by shutting your doggone mouth," the man in the gray shirt says. He points his finger at me. I want to bite it off.
My dad opens his mouth to say something, but then he seems to notice something about the men and closes his mouth. My eyes search for what my dad has already spotted. I find it, and my heart races.
The two each have their own guns.
For me, like any other Southerner, a gun could be my best friend here. I could easily defend myself in a situation like this if I had one. But there's a small problem. I don't own a gun. I'm too young to actually carry one. My dad owns a few and has a permit for them, but I think he forgot it at home.
"Now, little girl, if you can't control yourself," the man in the black takes the gun into his hand and holds it up. "I'm gonna have to use this."
Troy begins to growl. He knows what's going on. He knows I'm in danger.
The man in gray draws his gun. "And if Cujo over here can't control himself, the same thing's gonna happen to him."
Troy reluctantly stops.
"That's better. Now, all we want is the money from the cash register and whatever expensive parts you might have that'll sell for a lot of money."
I make the mistake of scoffing. The man in black points his gun at me. "What was that, little girl?"
Bad move.
Troy lunges at the man and bites down on his leg. He'd made the mistake of pointing a gun at me. Troy knows he has to protect me.
The man grunts and drops his gun.
The man in gray points his gun at Troy, but stops when Lenny begins growling at him. The meanest growl I've ever heard from Lenny warns the man.
He hesitates. He seems confused, as if he doesn't know whether to help his friend and take the chance with Lenny or stay where he is.
I have never seen Lenny like this. The dog has always been too lazy to kill the Copperheads that live near our house, let alone defend his family from lowlife thieves. I'm proud of him.
The man in black falls to the floor from the pain of the bite. He continues to grunt and moan.
Troy lets go. He stands where he is, ready to do it again if he has to.
The man grabs his leg with one hand and his gun with the other. The man in gray helps him up. He looks at me. "Do something about your dogs!"
Just so I won't get shot, I do as I'm told. I reluctantly walk around the counter and kneel down beside Troy. I put one arm around my dog and hold on to his collar with the other—just like I did when he wanted that cat.
Derek slowly climbs over the counter and does the same with Lenny who rears to go. He is ready to fight. Ready to defend his family.
My dad joins Derek. I can tell it's not an easy decision for him, having to choose which child to go to. It's because Derek is younger that he feels he needs him more. He knows because I'm older, I can handle myself better. And he's correct. Derek needs him more than I do.
The man in gray jumps over the counter and opens the cash register. He puts the money in a bag and smiles while doing so. He might even start whistling.
I want to punch him so bad. I want to punch both of them. I'm so angry, I feel like I might end up doing something stupid, that could get me killed.
The man in black is too busy staring at the bite on his leg to pay attention to anything else. So Troy takes the opportunity. He charges at him again.
This time he transforms into a teenage boy.
FIVE
WHEN I SAY, "Teenager," I really mean teenager. Like, human being teenager. My German Shepherd has turned into a person. How do you comprehend that? I know I'm gaping, because seriously—what else am I supposed to do?
Everyone else must be as surprised as I am. Even the robbers. The one at the cash register is too shocked to do anything. The other falls to the floor as Troy lands on him and starts punching him.
I slowly stand up, unsure of what to do. I can't turn away. My eyes are glued to what's right in front of me. And I'm sure that my dad and Derek do the same thing, watching intently with their jaws dropped.
It isn't until a hand grabs my wrist and jerks me back, that I remember about the man in gray. I had completely forgotten about him. Too much of my attention was on Troy.
He wraps his arm around me and holds onto my shoulder. He puts his gun up to my head. The barrel feels cold even through my hair.
Troy looks up and sees my predicament. He stops punching the man in black immediately and freezes in place.
The man in gray tightens his grip on my shoulder. "Get off of him," he demands.
Troy slowly stands up. He puts his hands up in surrender. His blue eyes meet mine.
The man presses his gun closer to the side of my head. It feels as if it's digging into my skull. "Now, you better listen to me, boy, or I'll shoot her."
Troy looks angry. "Don't you dare hurt her." His accent surprises me. Australian I think. I never would've guessed. What am I thinking? I may be dead in a few minutes, and I'm thinking about my dog- person's accent? If I had time to scold myself right now, I would.
"That's not up to me. It's simple. Just do what I say, and nobody gets hurt," the man says right behind my ear.
The man in black has a hard time getting up. He looks like he's about to faint. He pinches his nose and tilts his head back to slow the bleeding. He moans, and I don't know if it's because he's in pain or because he's about to puke.
Something on the floor draws my interest.
A gun.
The man in black must have dropped it when Troy attacked him.
I meet Troy's gaze and flick my eyes back and forth between him and the gun. His gaze follows mine to the floor. He nods his head lightly enough for me to notice without catching anyone else's attention.
He drags his gaze from the gun to me and the man. "Fine. You win. I'll do whatever you want."
I have a feeling that the man gives a smirk. "Wise decision, bo—"
Before the man can finish, Lenny lurches at the man in black and bites his other leg. Troy reaches for the gun and aims it at the man behind me. "Let her go."
"Or what?" He jerks me to the side using me as a human shield.
Troy knows he can't shoot at him now, so he aims his gun at the man in black instead. He never takes his eyes off the man in gray. "Let her go, or I'll shoot your friend."
It takes my attacker a minute to decide. Either he must really want to kill me, or he doesn't care about his friend all that much. Either way, I hope Troy's ultimatum works.
The man sighs and reluctantly lets go of me. I run across the room and into my dad's arms. He holds me tight like he'll never let me go. I rest the side of my head on his chest. Maybe I do need my dad more than I think. All this time I thought my brothers needed my parents more than I did, but it's possible that we need
them all the same. Just in different ways.
Troy keeps his word. He moves his gun away from the man in black and then aims it at the man in gray again. Of course, the stranger already had his aimed at Troy. "I think you know the drill kid. Put the gun down." Troy doesn't budge.
The two stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. It reminds me of wrestling. Before the wrestlers actually start fighting, they circle the ring, sizing up their opponents.
Lenny lets go of the man in black's leg, who looks like he has passed out. Now Lenny focuses on the man in gray. He growls the same mean growl from before. Seeming to be more nervous that Lenny will bite his leg off, the man aims his gun at him, getting distracted from Troy.
Troy leaps forward, kicking the gun out of his hand, and it falls onto the floor.
The man puts his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, man. I wasn't really gonna hurt her."
Troy scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "No. You were going to kill her."
The man opens his mouth to let out his denial, but Troy shoots him. His limp body falls to the floor with a loud, awful sounding thud.
Troy stares at the body for a minute then turns to the man in black. "He knows… He knows about me, and he was going to kill you," he talks to me. "I have to do it." He looks away but never even flinches as he pulls the trigger.
I tighten my hold on my dad and my heart races, as I try to comprehend what has just happened. It scares me that the events that have taken place tonight have reached such a high. I wish none of this had happened.
It's not long after the horrid event that my dad gives me the keys to his truck. "Here. Take your brother and the do—" he stops and corrects himself, "Troy and Lenny home. I'm gonna call the cops. I'll tell them that those men came in and I had to defend myself."
"What're we gonna do about Troy and Lenny?" I ask.
My dad sighs. "I have no idea. But for right now, go home. All right?"
I nod. "All right."
Troy sits in the passenger seat and Derek and Lenny sit in the back seat. Before we left the shop, I asked my dad about how he'd be getting home. He waved it off and said he would drive one of the motorcycles.
