Alpha Dog (19 page)

My face was roasting and I refused to glance over at Matt lest I spontaneously combust from embarrassment. This just couldn’t be
that
hard. Maybe if I tried again, this time taking it real slow.

“Sit.” At least that part was going well. I barely needed to touch Seamus now to get him to obey. “Now . . .” I stepped in front of him and hunkered down.

“You know what you should do?” Matt said.

I ignored him and held up my right palm. “St-a-a-y—
oof!
”

Seamus bounded toward me so fast, it caught me off guard and knocked me flat. I heard a yelp as my left arm flailed backward, yanking the leash and choke collar. For a long moment, I just lay there, staring at the sky overhead and quietly fuming. Suddenly Matt’s face loomed into view.

“Can I make a suggestion?” he asked, holding out a hand.

I grabbed hold and let him hoist me up. “What?” I grumbled, trying to avoid his eyes.

“Your voice is too soft. You don’t sound firm enough.”

“Fine. Whatever,” I grumbled.

“Don’t give up. Try again, and this time say it like you really mean it.” He sat back down on the bench, resting his elbows on the tabletop behind him. All he needed was a box of Milk Duds and a bucket of popcorn.

Thankfully, Seamus was still in one piece and didn’t seem to be harboring any ill will over the sudden choking. Dusting the dirt off my shorts, I went to stand beside him.

“Walk like you mean it,” Matt called out. “Move like you’re the boss.”

I bit my lip and started pulling up on the leash while simultaneously pressing on Seamus’s haunches. “Sit,” I said.

“Hear the way your voice rises up at the end? You sound like you’re asking a question instead of giving a command.”

I gritted my teeth as I raised my palm toward Seamus. “Stay.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Matt shake his head. “You did it again. You sound real unsure of yourself. If you listen to your instincts, you—”

“Do you mind?”
I whirled around, shouting at him. “How can I even hear my instincts with you talking all the time?”

Even as I yelled, I knew I was freaking a little too much, but I couldn’t help it. All my frustration had built to a critical mass and was now spouting out of its own accord. Matt was a sweet guy, not to mention really hot, but I was getting
real
tired of him wandering into the middle of my most embarrassing moments.

“I didn’t ask to be coached!” I went on. “Believe it or not, I want to do this by myself!”

For a few seconds, my voice rang out over the treetops. Then it was like someone hit a giant Mute button. Mockingbirds quit singing, cicadas quit whirring, even the wind stopped rustling the leaves. There was only the faint throbbing of blood through my skull and Seamus’s lonely whimper.

Matt’s grin widened as he stood and walked past us, heading for the sidewalk. “See?” he said, breaking into a run. “I knew you had it in you.”

A mixture of shame and anger fizzed through me as I watched him jog away. Why, why,
why
did I have to have some wiggy meltdown every time I saw the guy? Any day now his psych professors would be knocking on my door wanting to escort me away as their latest case study.

I felt a pull on the leash and looked down at Seamus. For some reason he was all worked up. He was wriggling about as much as his choke collar would allow and his mouth was hanging open in a wide, panting grin. If it were at all possible, I’d think he was laughing at me.

“Oh, what are you staring at?” I snapped.
“Sit!”
Seamus sat.

I blinked in disbelief. It actually happened. He obeyed—without any help from me.

With sudden conviction, I held out my palm. “Stay!” I commanded. Taking a deep breath, I walked a couple feet away and turned around.

And wonder upon wonders . . . Seamus stayed.

I practically skipped all the way back to the condo. Seamus knew “sit”! He could even stay—not indefinitely, but at least to the count of five. He was also doing a pretty good job of heeling on the leash. From the park to our building, I only stumbled twice!

After witnessing these minor miracles in the park, I was buzzing with all the mad joy of a religious convert. In fact, my arms had been pumping so wide as I pranced rapturously down the sidewalk that I accidentally choked Seamus a couple of times.

“Good doggie! Yes! Goo’ boy!” I was still saying as we walked into the condo.

Christine was sitting on the couch. As soon as we entered, she rose up and turned to face me, propping her foot and folding her arms across her chest so that her elbows and knee were cocked toward me like bony artillery.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, her eyes narrowed into thin slits.

My newfound elation spurted out of me so fast, I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear a whoopee cushion noise.

Ever since the stuffed dachshund slaughter, I’d been avoiding Christine as best as I could. I got up extra early, ate in my room, and only ventured into the living room if I knew she was out with Robot. I’d been afraid of exactly this: a nose-to-nose confrontation. Because I knew I could never win. Not with Christine. I could only hope to avoid it indefinitely.

And yet, somehow, I was managing to meet her gaze head-on.

“Okay. Let’s talk,” I said rather calmly.

Christine lifted her chin as if pointing another weapon at me. She didn’t seem to have expected this reaction.

“It’s about your dog,” she said, glancing down at Seamus long enough for the disgust to register on her face. “He’s been a total pain in the butt since you brought him here and you know it.”

Instinctively, I broke my gaze and stared down at the floor. She was right. Seamus had been a terror. Although I was hoping that would change now.

“He tore up three of my favorite wiener dogs,” she continued, picking up strength and speed. “And one of them I’d had for eight years. Can you imagine what it was like for me to find it all shredded up like that?”

I shuddered slightly, remembering Christine’s hysterical screams, the trail of plush body parts—every ghastly detail. “Sorry,” I said, then immediately regretted it. How many times would I have to apologize? I was getting a little tired of it.

“You should be sorry!” she cried, her mouth twitching and her nostrils flaring wide enough to emit flames. She took a deep breath and moved her hands to her hips. I could tell she was tensing up for the final assault. “You can’t keep him,” she blurted. “You have to take him back to the shelter.”

And there it was. She’d unleashed her ultimate threat. The bomb to end all battles.

For just a nanosecond or two, I felt truly licked— the exact same belly-up, pathetic defeat I’d felt when Chuck broke up with me. And then . . . it passed. I didn’t have to do her bidding. I was not some cowed dachshund she could boss around.
I
could be the Alpha Dog here.

I picked up Seamus and looked her right in the eye. “No,” I said. “I’m not going to.” I didn’t sound like me at all. It was strange, like I was a life-sized marionette for a loudmouthed puppeteer.

Christine’s entire face seemed to lengthen. Her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows flew to the middle of her forehead. “What do you mean, you’re not going to? You have to! If you don’t, I’ll . . . I’ll tell Mrs. Krantz!”

“I’ve already talked to her,” I said calmly. “I paid her a pet deposit and showed her that I’d registered him in an obedience class. She said he could stay.”

I set Seamus on the floor and took the choke collar off him, replacing it with the buckle collar and leash I’d fished out of my backpack. I couldn’t believe how cool-headed I was. Maybe I’d just been pushed and pushed so much, I had nowhere left to go and finally had to stand and fight. Or maybe I’d lost my mind and hadn’t realized it yet.

Christine charged around the couch. “You can’t do that!” she said, sounding almost whiny. “If you don’t get rid of him, I’ll tell your mom!”

My hands shook ever so slightly as I finished clipping on Seamus’s old collar. I felt the familiar wringing sensation in my gut, and then, just like before, it vanished.

I walked Seamus over to the yellow armchair and sat down. “Go ahead,” I said, scooping Seamus into my lap. “Tell her I said hi.”

I knew what I was doing was dangerous. Mrs. Krantz I could handle. Christine I was somehow handling. But Mom?

And yet, what did it really matter? I lost either way. Backing down to Christine would mean giving up Seamus, and I wasn’t prepared to do that without a fight. I could only hope she just didn’t have it in her.

“You are being so unfair!” Christine shouted, marching over to us. “That is just so wrong! You can’t make me live with him! It’s selfish!”

“Selfish?”
I set Seamus down and got to my feet, staring directly into Christine’s wild-eyed, pink-tinged face. It suddenly felt as if that one word had stabbed right through me, tearing open a jagged hole, and all my pent-up fury came blasting out. “You mean selfish like inviting three guys to crash here whenever they feel like it? Letting them eat your roommate’s food and use all the hot water? You mean that kind of selfish?”

I was really yelling now, even though I was smiling and over-enunciating like a scary schoolteacher. Christine’s head slowly retracted and her shoulders seemed to be folding inward.

“Because if that’s the kind of selfish you mean, go right ahead!” I continued ranting. “Tell my mom! Tell the world! And then . . . then it’ll be
my
turn. I’ll tell Mrs. Krantz and Mrs. B and anyone else who cares all about your selfish ways. It’ll be a contest! A pageant! We’ll let the people decide who’s the most selfish one of all!” I took a step toward Christine, still wearing my loony Jack Nicholson grin, and made a big sweeping flourish with my arms. “Come on! What do you say?”

By now Christine looked small and concave. She eyed me warily for a few seconds before marching off to her room and slamming the door behind her.

I blew out my breath and closed my eyes. My head was pounding at the temples, but overall I felt kind of good.

“Well, buddy. If nothing else, maybe I bought you a little time.” I looked over at Seamus. He was standing as far back as the leash would allow, whimpering mournfully. Poor guy. It couldn’t have been fun for him to see me lose all control like that.

Control . . .

And right then, I got it. The whole Alpha Dog thing. I finally understood the “wall” and the collar and why it supposedly worked. Seamus
needed
me to be in charge. He needed to know that he was in good hands.

“Sit!” I commanded.

And he sat.

“Good boy.”

I just hoped he got to stay.

That night when Mom called for a report, Christine was still stewing in her room. I lied and said she was at her Bible group.

“Again? She’s been awfully busy with that club lately. Oh well, I’ll just talk to her later. So how are you enjoying your classes?” she asked.

“They’re fine.”

“Have you given more thought to what you might want to major in?”

“I’ve been thinking about journalism.”

“Oh no, you don’t want to do that. They make so little money. Besides, you have to be a real go-getter, and I’m afraid that’s just not you, honey.”

“Way to support me, Mom,” I said, then yawned loudly.

“What’s wrong? You sound sleepy.”

“I am.”

“I knew it! You’ve been staying up late, haven’t you?”

I shut my eyes and grabbed a tuft of hair on the top of my head. Stupid, stupid. Why’d I have to go admitting I was tired? But that was the thing. I was too tired to have my guard up. “No, Mom. I’m not staying up late. I just haven’t been sleeping all that well. It’s . . . um . . . it’s just extra noisy around here. You know, traffic and all.”

“You and your father. The McAllisters always were light sleepers,” she muttered, as if suddenly angry at my dad for this glitch in my genetic makeup. “You know, I have just the remedy for that.”

“You do?” I asked, feeling hopeful.

“Yes. You should come home this weekend. You could go to bed early in your own bedroom, without all that big-city noise. I’ll pick you up Friday after my hair appointment.”