The Art of Losing(17)

“You’re a good boy,” Raf cooed.

Floyd could stand it no longer. He stood on his hind legs, pressing against Raf’s chest, until Raf collapsed on the grass next to him. Floyd stuck his nose in Raf’s face, licking his chin and neck, his ears and eyes. Raf cracked up, loving every second of it.

“Would you two like some privacy?” I said after a minute.

Raf gave Floyd’s ears one more rub, then stood, brushing grass from the back of his jeans.

“Give me a break,” he said. “Floyd and I haven’t seen each other for a while. We had some catching up to do.”

This was true. When we were younger, before Audrey took over dog-walking duties, I used to take Floyd out after school. When Raf was outside playing basketball in his driveway, Floyd would start barking the minute he heard the ball bouncing. I’d get him outside, and he and Raf would run to each other like long-lost lovers. It would take me five minutes to break them up.

“Well, I hope you got it out of your system,” I said, “because he’s coming home with me.” Raf’s mom was allergic to dogs, so Floyd wasn’t even allowed on the front porch.

“So, nice night to sit on hot asphalt and sweat,” Raf said, easing down beside me and crossing his legs at the ankles. He leaned back on his elbows and gazed up at the sprinkling of stars in the sky. Floyd nudged his way between us and lay down with a heavy sigh.

“I just needed to get out of the house,” I said.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

I shook my head. “My mom keeps trying to get me to do puzzles with her. She’s got a five-hundred-piece one on the kitchen table and the picture is Paris from Above. Do you have any idea how much most of Paris looks exactly the same from above?”

Raf chuckled. “I think you made the right call.”

“She’s just trying to avoid talking to me about Mike. And the accident. She blames me for not driving Audrey home that night. I can see it in her eyes.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because I feel like it would make more sense for her to be blaming Audrey. Or Mike.”

“No,” I said, firm in my conviction that my mom thought I was an asshole. “I brought Audrey to that party; I should have taken her home, too.”

“Why didn’t you?” he asked quietly.

I hunched my shoulders, avoiding his eyes. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t bear the embarrassment of Raf knowing that Mike had cheated on me with my sister. I didn’t want to plant the idea in his head that she was the more desirable one of the two of us, if it wasn’t there already.

“Because of reasons,” I said finally.

“Oh, reasons,” Raf said. “Why didn’t you say so?” He leaned against me gently. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you,” I said. I paused for a beat and added, “I did break up with him, though.”

“Atta girl,” he said with a broader smile.

“He said he has to go to rehab. It’s court-mandated.”

“Interesting,” Raf said. He even stroked his chin. “In residence?”

“What does that mean?”

“He has to stay there. He doesn’t get to go home at night.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that sounds right. But he only has to go for a month. Do you think that could be enough time to get him to realize what he did? To make him stop drinking?”

Raf shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Some people never stop.”

“Well, if you see him at an AA meeting, you have my permission to kick his ass. He’s about six feet tall, with shaggy surfer-type blond hair, blue eyes, and a little beer belly. Usually wears a comic book or lacrosse T-shirt.” I looked at him seriously. “Break his fucking legs.”

Raf gazed back at me for a few seconds, then said, “Can I say something without you getting mad?”

I made a disgusted noise. “I hate that question. If you have something to say, just say it. Why do you care if I get mad?”

I knew I sounded like such a brat, but I was too drained to play games.

To my relief, Raf smiled. “Okay, fine. I’ve been thinking about it, and I just don’t get why you stayed with him for so long.”

I shrugged. “Why does anyone stay with someone?”

“But why would you feel like you deserved to put up with his bullshit?”

I stared at him for a few seconds and then said, “You’ve been in therapy too long.”

He laughed, but his eyes were serious. “Maybe, but I don’t think I’m wrong.”

“Listen,” I said. “You don’t know what happened. And you might think you know me, but you don’t. So just keep your opinions to yourself, okay?”

I stood, and Raf quickly sat up.

“Wait,” he protested. “See? I knew you’d get mad.”

“And yet you asked me not to. That seems a little unfair to me.”

Raf smiled once more, frustrating me further. “You’re right,” he said. I turned to go inside, but he reached up a hand to stop me. “I want to show you something.”

“What?” I asked warily.

“You don’t have to be so suspicious,” he said, pretending to be offended. “I’m not going to murder you. The boy next door is such an obvious suspect.”