19
Gigi
My alarm went off and I whined like a two year old. “No,” I said, yanking my phone off the charging cord like I was somehow teaching it a lesson not to wake me.
I stared at the screen. Six-thirty in the stinking morning. It felt like I’d just closed my eyes ten minutes ago. My eyelids felt weighted as I blinked overtop my gritty eyeballs. While I closed my eyes, I could feel a familiar sense of worry run through me.
That was when I remembered Beau still wasn’t home when I’d finally fallen asleep around four. A sick, sticky nausea boiled around in my stomach when I thought about where he probably was.
By two-thirty, I’d given up texting him and calling him. If he wasn’t answering after ten attempts to contact him, he wasn’t ever going to answer.
I was young, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew when guys like Beau got upset, they likely wanted to drown their sorrows—in booze or women. Or both.
We were in the city that never sleeps, after all. My stomach churned again.
After our talk last night, I really thought he’d come home, and we’d be okay. He’d realize we could give this this the old college try.
About a half hour after that was when I heard the boy puppy making odd, hacking noises. Which was really weird seeing as I was in my bedroom and it sounded like he was close by.
I had bolted up and rushed out my door to investigate. There he was in the hallway, lying down in a pile of—my tampons? Oh my gosh! I panicked and swooped him up into my hands. He was covered in fluffy, white cotton. Oh my gosh!
“No, no, no, what did you do?” I whispered, then looked around for his sister. I ran into the living room, finding her fast asleep in the playpen. How on earth did he get out?
More than worried about this little guy, my mind spun like crazy wondering what I should do. Beau wasn’t here and likely wouldn’t be here for a long time. I didn’t think this could wait.
Rushing back to my room, I scooped up my phone and dialed the only other person I trusted to help me make a decision about the dogs. It rang twice before he answered. “What’s up, G?” Trey said, his voice loud through the phone. This was probably because of the loud music in the background. He was obviously out on the town.
“Oh crap, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were out. Never mind, I’ll talk to you in the morning,” I said, feeling like a huge heel as I shook my head. Even in the darkness I could feel my face heat with embarrassment.
“Girl, what’s up? Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice serious now. I could hear muffled talking, then a few different guys saying, ‘See ya, man’. “Let me get out of here so I can hear you better, hang on.”
I hung on, breathing like a crazy person as my heart beat out of control in my chest. The puppy coughed again and I gasped, trying to get as much of the fluff off his nose and mouth.
“Jesus, was that you? Are you sick?” Trey asked, the music fading into the night. A loud squeak sounded and then all I heard were the sounds of cars.
“No, it’s the puppy. I think he’s choking,” I said feeling and hearing my words crack in my throat.
Just then, I had a video chat request from Trey. Apparently, he’d hung up and called on video instead. I clicked the button and he popped on the screen. “Let me see him. Turn your volume up to the loudest, too.”
Quickly, I did everything Trey ordered. I could see he was walking at a good pace. Part of me wanted to tell him to stay and party with his friends. The other part—the part that had me nearly crying—wanted someone here to help me.
“Okay, he’s breathing so that’s good. I don’t like that cough, though. Can we take him to the vet? I have a buddy I can call who’ll meet us there.”
My body relaxed a bit, relieved to have him help. “I don’t have a car.”
He smiled at me through the screen. The sound of beeping car locks blasted through the phone. “I’m at my car now. I’ll call you when I’m in the parking lot.”
“Uh, okay,” I said, sniffling and sitting down on my bed, holding the poor puppy close.
Trey hauled himself into his car and started it up. “G? He’s going to be fine. Don’t worry. I’m texting my friend right now,” he said, the screen going black. I could hear him pressing keys and sending and receiving texts.
His comforting words and gentle way he spoke them are what pushed me over the edge. Tears started flowing down my cheeks. “I don’t know what happened. Did he get out of his pen? Or did I forget to put him in? Gosh, what if I forgot? This is all my fault. I’m so careless,” I cried, wiping my eyes.
He sighed, the screen clicked back to show his face, then it began to shake. “I’m putting you in the holder, and you’re staying with me until I get there.” The shaking stopped and I could see him backing out of a dark parking lot. “This is not your fault. Animals do some crazy shit. Did I ever tell you about the time I left the cow gate open?” he asked, chuckling deeply.
Then he told me the cow story. By the time that was over, there was a knock at the door. “Open up, G.”
Shocked that he was already at my door, I hurried up and opened it. “I’m not even dressed.”