“No problem,” he replies, handing me the sleeping puppy. It’s smaller than I expected. For real, it looks like he’s holding a slightly oversized wad of cotton wool. The thing is tiny. I frown.
“What’s this?”
“Er, your puppy?”
“I thought it was a husky? It seems too small to be a husky.”
“Dude. It’s not a husky. It’s apomsky.”
“What? You said it was a husky!”
“No, I said it was a Pomeraniancrossedwith a husky.”
“It’s not a purebred?” I wrinkle my nose and then realise I sound like Grandfather. “It’ll get bigger than this, right? It’ll look like a wolf, yeah?”
Taco looks at me like I’ve lost my goddamn mind and sniggers.
“Nah, mate. It’s a teacup size. That thing’s about close to being full size. Maybe. Pretty sure it was the runt of the litter.”
“Hey! What do you mean the runt? You better not be selling me no defective mutt!”
“Chill, dude. You don’t know anything, do you? Runt just means it’s the smallest. And my cousin’s litters are reserved over a year in advance. You were lucky to get that one.”
I pout.
“Look if you don’t want it…”
“Did I say that?” I snap, feeling foolish. Okay, so maybe I was a little too excited when I discovered Taco could get me a puppy in time for Valentine’s Day, and so I didn’t listen to him properly. I have ADHD so I can’t be held responsible for my actions.
There’s no way I’m handing this fluff ball back over to him. Not with the way it’s snuggled into my chest and is snoring in time to my heart beat. Awww damn, it’s cute. Maybe I should get me one too? We could have matching outfits for them and...holy fuck! When did I grow ovaries?!
“It’s my damn dog, you can’t have him back.” I turn away from Taco, protectively shielding the dog from him, like he’d try to rip it out of my arms or something. As if!
“Are we good?” Taco asks.
“Yep.” I sigh. I need to get moving anyway, I have pizza getting cold and I need to get to the dining hall before Amelie gets a crappy lunch. “Catch you soon.”
“Next fight night is at the end of term. Will you be there?”
“Yeah. We’ll be there. Later, Taco.”
“Later, man.”
I knew there was no way I’d be able to juggle the stack of pizzas, the puppy, and a 90s (or possibly 80s?) boombox on my way past. I had thought about enlisting some help, but I don’t want to share the credit for this one, so I got creative.
The first thing I do is strap the baby carrier to my chest. I got it online and although it’s meant for tiny humans, it’ll do. I slip the sleeping puppy into it. Next, I sling the old as fuck, borrowed from my dad,batteryoperated boombox onto my back. Thisthing is a relic and I had to record atapeof songs for this to work. Fucking weird experience if ever I had one. Finally, with my hands free, I pick up the large stack of pizzas. And then I make my way to the canteen.
Outside I grab a first year and make him turn on the boombox and crank the music, before opening the doors for me. I’ve made this kick-ass playlist, which my dad called a mix tape, full of apology songs for Amelie. ‘Sorry’ byJustin Bieberstarts to blast as I step into the room and all eyes are on me. I may be getting some confused and strange looks. I really got into the whole boombox idea and have channelled my inner 90s kid by dressing like something out of The Fresh Prince. I think I look dope.
Glancing around the room as my mashup switches toOne Republic’s‘Apologize’, I spy Amelie at her usual table with Elsie, sitting with her back to me. My entrance doesn’t seem to have caught her attention at all. That’s easily rectified.
I climb onto the nearest table, knocking over a few drinks and accidentally placing my foot in someone’s lunch as I go, and as the song switches to‘Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word’ byBlue, I begin to belt out the tune like I was born on a goddamn Broadway Stage. And let’s face it, I probably could have been. Just, you know, not when Slate is in the vicinity stealing all the limelight.
I’m still holding the pizzas and wondering if I can hop from table to table to make my way to Amelie...fuck it. I have nothing to lose by trying. I take the tiniest run up and as the song switches again, I leap, landing smoothly and knocking over a jug of juice. I launch into ‘Sorry’ byBuckcherry,singing about her kiss and how shit I feel for upsetting her, and I’m not joking or putting on a show now. I may have chosen my methods for shock value, but listening to the songs again, the lyrics have merit.
I hop to the next table, more gracefully this time as ‘Please Forgive Me’ byBryan Adamsbegins. Amelie is staring at me, open mouthed now. She knows I’m coming for her. Only two more tables to traverse between me and my love. Jump.‘Inbetween’by Linkin Park. Jump. ‘Forgive Me’ byEvanescence.
She’s shaking her head at me, but doesn’t look mad. I’ll take it as a good sign. With excitement in my step, I make the final leap and land on the floor in front of Amelie. Elsie is pissing her pants laughing, but I just know that all thestraightgirls in this room are lapping it up. I don’t look to confirm it, but I’m pretty sure I can smell the pheromones, even over the delicious scent of pizza.
