Never Let You Go(47)

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t hang out with the same kind of people.”

“I like that you’re different. You’re an artist, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I saw your drawings in the yearbook. You’re really good.”

“Thanks.” I don’t know what else to say. My face feels warm and I want to make a smart-ass comment, but I can’t think of anything. Why is he being so nice?

“You can bring Delaney,” he says. Delaney has a crush on one of Jared’s friends and would love to go to a party. She’d be totally pissed if I turned down an invite.

“Maybe,” I say. His face breaks into a smile and I feel a weird tightening across my chest like someone is hugging me from behind and my whole body wants to relax.

“I’ll see you Friday.” He leans closer, the smell of spearmint strong on his breath. He must’ve been chewing gum. For a moment I wonder if he wanted to have nice breath for me, and the idea is confusing and exciting and a few other things that I can’t think about right now.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I won’t tell anyone about you seeing your dad. I know he just got out of prison.”

I stare at him, and all the noise in the hall disappears. I can only feel the thudding in my chest. How did he know? Has Delaney been talking to people? I feel so hurt I can’t breathe.

His face changes, his smile dropping like he realizes he messed up. “I’m sorry. I could tell you were related and I’ve seen his photo online, so I knew who he was.”

“So now you’re going to tell everybody.” I’m angry and upset, but also confused. How had he seen my dad’s photo? There was a lot of press about it years ago, but I hadn’t seen anything in the news about him getting out. Maybe there was an article in Victoria.

“I knew about it months ago, but I never told anyone.”

“Why did you look me up?”

“I like you. I wanted to know more about you.” He shrugs and gives me a smile. I’ve seen all his smiles. The ones he gives his friends, or the teacher. I’ve never seen this one. It’s shy, but also hopeful and kind of sweet, maybe even a little embarrassed. But that can’t be right.

“I don’t want anyone to know about him.”

“Don’t worry. You can trust me.” The bell rings and he glances down the hall. “I better get my books. See you Friday, okay?” He walks away.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


LINDSEY



It’s loud in the shelter, a cacophony of barks and yelps as I walk down the concrete hallway looking at the dogs in their kennels. I don’t like this feeling, their pleading, desperate eyes, the metal fencing, the smell of urine. I want to take them all home, but I can only afford one. I’ve thought about getting a dog for years, but always worried about the vet bills or food. Now I realize I was just scared that something could go wrong, that somehow Andrew would take it away from me, even from behind bars. I stop in front of a kennel with a German shepherd cross with a big head, big paws, and an even bigger smile. He has reddish brown fur and the hair down the middle of his back grows in the opposite direction like a Rhodesian ridgeback. His brown eyes are ringed with black and his muzzle and the tips of his ears, which flop at the ends, are also black. I make a kissing noise and he cocks his head, paws at the fence.

One of the shelter staff has been giving me the details of the dog in the kennel beside him—Buddy, a friendly black Lab with a full-body wiggle and a high-pitched bark.

“What this one’s name?” I ask her.

“That’s Angus.”

I smile at his moniker, which suits him perfectly. His previous owner must have had a Scottish background or a good sense of humor. “I live alone with my daughter and we’re looking for a family pet, but also a dog that will scare off strangers. Is he protective?”

“Angus is a real love and would probably just lick a burglar to death, but he has a loud bark.” As though he heard the challenge, Angus stands up against the chain-link fence and woofs three times. Deep loud barks that echo against the concrete. He stands almost as tall as me and has to weigh close to a hundred pounds.

“Why did his owners give him up?”

“It was a divorce. The husband moved down to the States and the wife had to get a new job, so she didn’t have time for him anymore. He’s a good family dog. Loves women.”

I touch my palm to his paw and he licks my hand. “Can I take him for a walk?”

We hike around the nearby trails and he nearly pulls my arm out of the socket, but I feel safer just having this big animal beside me, his shoulders brushing against my thigh. I’m trying to talk myself out of it, thinking about his food bills, how much he probably sheds. Every once in a while he turns back to look at me, his mouth open in a smile, his tongue lolling. We see a man in the distance running through the forest, and Angus pauses, body alert, tail high. He glances back at me. “It’s okay, Angus,” I say. “Good boy.” He relaxes and we keep walking. For the first time in days, I feel myself relaxing too. Back at the shelter I fill out an application, confirm I have permission from my landlord and a fenced yard. I thought it would take a couple of days to hear anything, but the shelter calls me that night. I give Sophie the good news.