I surreptitiously wipe them on my baggy basketball shorts.
“That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Cocksure Kalen, freaking out and feeling insecure.”
“Shut up.” I huff.
“Oh, don’t be soft. Grab some pizza and sit before it’s cold.”
I fall into the seat beside her in a sulk, and she passes me the pizza box to help myself. I start to perk up though as her and Elsie begin to coo and fuss over the puppy. That’s more like it.
“What’s with the outfit?” Amelie asks, shooting me a sideways glance as she snuggles the pup.
“I’m channelling my inner 90s kid.”
“Why?”
I stare at her like she’s crazy. Has she never seen ‘Pretty Woman’?! I feel like my genius apology has been wasted. Granted, the dude in that film showed up in a limo with a boombox, and he was wearing a suit, but this just felt more ‘me’.
“What are you going to call...it?” Elsie asks.
“I dunno. What is it?” Amelie asks me.
“A puppy.” I stare at her like she’s crazy.
“What flavour?”
I snigger. “It’s a pomsky. A Pomeranian husky cross. Teacup size,” I say proudly, like I know what the fuck I’m talking about it.
“Kalen!” She groans. “What goddamn sex is it?”
“Oh. He’s a stud. Can’t you tell?” I look down at the least manly puppy I’ve ever seen and snort. I can just imagine Sawyer and Onyx’s faces having to walk it.
“Well, he’s lovely, Kalen. But I’m pretty sure if we’re not technically allowed phones on campus, a puppy will definitely be a no-no.”
“Don’t worry about that. I sorted everything,” I tell her with a grin. She doesn’t see the fingers crossed behind my back. I don’t want to lie to her – ever – if I can help it. And I’ve mostly managed to sort things. Sort of.
I watch with a happy smile on my face as Amelie snuggles the tiny white ball of fluff in her arms and Elsie leans over to stroke him too. They flip him onto his back so that he’s laid in her lap, and play with his paws. He looks like a tiny polar bear cub if you ask me. I’m glad she likes him. I hope it puts me back in her good books, though I’m not stupid enough to think she’ll completely forgive me.
“So what do you think you’ll call him?” I ask, perching on the edge of the table to tickle his tummy too. He has the softest fur I’ve ever felt and I can’t help but keep stroking and touching him.
“I don’t know. Els, any suggestions?”
“Snowflake. Cotton. Puff?”
Amelie pulls a face.
“What about Lucifer?” I suggest.
“I’m not naming my puppy after the devil!” she replies, outraged.
“What about Lucy-fur?” I think it’s pretty clever.
“I love that, but he’s not a she.”
“Ghost?” I try again.
“Too Game of Thrones.” She shakes her head.
“Hmmm what about Marshmallow?” Elsie adds.
