Nothing But Wild (Malibu University 2)

She stares at me and something in the vicinity of warmth blooms on her face.

“You look so much like me…For years I pictured you as an embryo, a collection of tissues. They didn’t even show you to me when you were born because I didn’t want to hold you. You know, in case some maternal chemicals kicked in…”

“Yes, t-those are t-terrible.”

Dallas snorts and squeezes my hand, and Katherine’s critical stare moves right over to the man I love. The one who’s here supporting me.

“I came to say I’m sorry. I realize we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot…but I wouldn’t be upset if you wanted to speak again––maybe get to know each other…I could be the distant crazy aunt everyone in the family finds fascinating.”

At least she’s trying. I’ll give her points for effort.

“T-Thanks for coming, Katherine,” I say, standing; a clear signal that I’m done with this conversation. “I appreciate t-that you’re willing to make an effort, but I’m n-not sure if I h-have room in my life right now. Between getting ready for v-vet school and a boyfriend, I’m p-pretty busy…I’ll think about it.”

Katherine’s face cracks in a small smile. She gets the subtext perfectly. If she wants to know me, she can make the effort. I’ve done my share. And with that, another checkmark goes on the list.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dallas

“Who’s this?” I ask Vi as Dora and I walk into the shelter.

It’s the first time we’ve been back here since our road trip and there’s a new addition. A old yellow Lab slowly walks over to me and nudges my hand. I can’t resist the old guy and get down on my knees and rub his ears.

For years I begged my parents for a dog. Brenda never let me have one. Frankly that may have saved a life because she barely took care of herself and me. Subjecting another living creature to her neglect would’ve been cruel. My father hates all living things so he was a foregone conclusion. Then the divorce happened and the fall-out from that took over our lives for years. But I’ve always wanted a pet. Maybe because they love unconditionally. That’s something I can’t say about ninety-nine percent of the people in my life.

“What’s his name?”

“Banjo,” Vi tells us as she jumps off the counter to pick up an orange cat darting across the room. The little dude is known for opening cage doors. There’s a reason she named him Jailbreak.

“You guys are coming to the grand opening, right?”

“Put me t-to work.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I add. The new shelter is slated to open in a few weeks with a big bang. Meanwhile, they’re still operating out of the old location.

“He m-must be ten already––” Dora says as she pets Banjo’s head, “at least.”

He looks to be suffering from arthritis. Cataracts too. Banjo doesn’t seem to mind. He’s soaking up the attention, nudging us with his faded tan nose when one of us stops petting him.

“He came in on the flight from Austin. Lived at the no-kill shelter there for five years and the fosters were getting worried that he was losing the will to live.”

My chest gets tight. “Five years? How the fuck did that happen? He’s such a cool dog.”

Vi shrugs. “It happens. Even the pretty ones get left behind sometimes.”

Anger burns through me fast and hot. I don’t doubt that Banjo was pretty once, when he was young. He’s a purebred Lab, the most popular breed in the country. So what, now that his ears are a little chewed up and his face is covered in white hair and his eyes are cloudy he’s not worthy of a good life? He’s not worthy of a family to love him? I fucking hate people sometimes.

“What are his chances,” I ask her, looking into his honest face so grateful for just for a little love.

“Old dogs are the hardest to adopt out.”

My heart beats fast. “I’m taking him,” I say without thought to consequences and as soon as I do I immediately feel better. The rage bleeds out of me and my heart rate returns to normal. Yeah, this is the right thing to do.

“What?” Both Vi and Dora say.

“I’m taking him. I’m adopting Banjo.”

“Dall…you’re busy with school…and you’re graduating soon.”

“He needs eye medication administered twice a day,” Vi informs me.

This is why money is dope as fuck. “I don’t care. I’ll hire people to help me. I’ll get him his own personal butler if I have to. He’s not spending another night in a shelter. He’s not getting left behind anymore.”

All I get is silence in return.

“Cool,” Vi finally says. “I’ll get the paperwork started.”

“I d-don’t think he n-needs another bed, Dall––” My bae says as she takes the steaks we’re cooking tonight out of the refrigerator and sets them on the counter.