The driveway is rutted. Not easy to walk. I stay to the side like I did in the dark, scuffing browned oleander petals and slippery oak leaves. Gravel crackles underneath, noisy to me like popping bubble wrap. I listen for Dolly, expecting her. I only hear myself.
Around the turn to Mr. Rossi’s place, I stop, look, and listen hard. His car is in the detached garage. Dolly’s leash is on the lead, but she’s not on it. The house is closed and quiet.
“Dolly?” I say. Scared, a little.
Faintly, I hear a sound like clip clip. Metal on metal.
The pool is covered, a slick blue vinyl throwing back sun. I shade my eyes, passing. He’s buzzed the lawn.
I call her: “Dolly!”
In the distance, an answering bark. I smile.
She comes running from behind the house, fur combed to feathery swirls along her belly.
My smile stretches. “Hey there!”
Dolly circles, wagging her body. I fold into the spiky grass, arms out. She climbs in and licks my chin. I hold her close. So warm and good.
“Angelyn?”
Mr. Rossi stands above. Sweaty, bits of brush stuck to his T-shirt and jeans.
“I was working out back,” he says. Then: “Why are you here?”
“Please,” I say. “Please don’t be mad.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Mr. Rossi says.
“I know.”
“It isn’t good for you or me that you’re here.”
I look at Dolly, curled in my lap. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Now I’ll have to ask you to leave,” he says.
I touch her silky ear. “I wanted to see if you were all right. Are you, Mr. Rossi?”
“Am I—?” He’s quiet. “Sure I am. How about you?”
“Oh. Suspended,” I say. “And other things.”
“We can’t be having this conversation.”
I raise my eyes. “Are you in trouble over me?”
Mr. Rossi says no.
“But—we’re both out of school today. Like you’re suspended too.”
“I said I’m all right.”
“I’m sorry for what happened in class.”
Mr. Rossi nods. “You know you have to go.”
I pet Dolly. “Maybe I could take her.”
“What? Take the dog?”
“You don’t want her. And, well, I do.”
Dolly licks my arm.
I see us at the frosty. Dolly, Steve, and me. I’m sharing my hamburger, and he’s flicking fries. Dolly snaps them from the air. We’re laughing.
“How did you get here?” Mr. Rossi asks.
“Steve brought me. He’s out there.”
“Steve brought you. Coslow.”
“We’re not together,” I say. “Friends, sort of.”
Mr. Rossi rubs his neck. “So, if you walk out with this dog he dumped weeks ago—that’ll be okay?”
“Why not? She’d be mine.”
“It’s all right, then, with your folks? They told you, Get a dog?”
“My stepdad moved out. My mom? She owes me.”
“That’s where you want to bring Dolly? To a place your mom ‘owes’ you?”
I lean over her. “Dolly would be mine. Not my mom’s or anyone else’s.”
Mr. Rossi says, “She’s found her place here.”
Face hidden, I frown.
“What’s best for the animal? Ask yourself that.”
“Mr. Rossi, I’d treat her like gold! Don’t you know I would?”
“I know that you’d want to.” He crouches. “I’m not being fair. I want the dog.”
“You do?”
He nods to the porch. “Come on. We can talk.”
I sit with him on the steps, sipping lemonade he’s brought out. Dolly stretched on the cool concrete below.
“She’s worked out great,” Mr. Rossi says. “She’s a good fit. My son likes her.”
“Your son?”
“Camden was here this weekend.” He says it like sunlight.
“Oh.” I stare at my feet, lined up with his.
“Things are different for me now. Better.”
“You mean with you and your wife?”
“With everything,” Mr. Rossi says.
“How can they be,” I ask, “after what happened at school?”
“The school is not my life.”
“But—they made you take time off.”
“The time off was my decision.”
“Mr. Rossi, you don’t have to protect me. I called you—that—in front of everyone. I want to make it right. I’ll talk to any of them—Miss Bass, the principal. I want to tell the truth about you.”
He sets his glass down. “Angelyn, I don’t need you to do that. I’m a big boy.”
“But not a freakin’ perv. You never were.”
Our eyes catch.
“Someone in your life was,” Mr. Rossi says.
“Yes,” I say.
“I wondered. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. He’s gone now.”
Mr. Rossi looks off. “I am sorry. I might have helped you.”
“You did help me. You so did.”
“If that’s true, I’m glad.”
“It’s what you didn’t do, Mr. Rossi.”
“I crossed some lines,” he says. “Things got rough here for a while.”
“Lines,” I say. “Like, saving Dolly? Letting me stay over? Taking me to see Mrs. Daly?”
“I got to be more than a teacher to you,” he says. “I saw you as more than a student.”
“Is that bad?” I ask. “Is it always bad? You weren’t like him. You never used me.”
Mr. Rossi sighs. “I’m taking the time to figure some things out. About teaching, about me, and my family.”
“Okay,” I say because I can’t think what else.
He shifts around, his back to the rail. “You know, you weren’t wrong in the classroom.”
I stretch my legs. “But I shouldn’t have hit her.”
Dolly lifts her head, watching.
“Right,” Mr. Rossi says. “You put the outcome in her hands.”
“I have to sign some stuff before they’ll let me back. They’re going to be watching me. Everyone is.”
“Probably,” he says. “Work through it. You’ve got a brain, Angelyn. A good mind.”
“I’ll work through it. I know I’ll never have another teacher like you.”
“Be a student,” Mr. Rossi says. “You’ll be surprised what can happen when you go in thinking like that.”
I nod, hoping he’s right.
Mr. Rossi dusts his knees. “Well—”
I’m not ready for the end. “You and your wife are okay now?”
His face clouds. “For Camden’s sake, we’re working on it.”
“Will you tell me, Mr. Rossi? Why was she so pissed?”
He looks at me. “I spent time with someone I shouldn’t have.”
I catch my breath.
“No, not you. And, no, I won’t say who.”
Mr. Rossi stands. I stand after him.
“I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No,” he says. “You shouldn’t have.”
We face each other on the ground.
“It’s cool your son likes Dolly.” I lean for a pet. “But, you know, I love her.”
“I know you do,” Mr. Rossi says. “Can you love her enough to let her go?”
Tears push at me. I bite my cheek.
“Angelyn, I want to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Do you know Ms. Jones in the Career Center?”
“I know who she is,” I say.
“She knows about you,” Mr. Rossi says. “How you’re interested in the Coast Guard.”
“I’m not. Anymore.”
“You’re sure about that?”
I fold my arms. “I wanted to talk about it with you.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Mr. Rossi is gentle.
“How does Ms. Jones know about me?”
“I told her,” he says. “I gave her my student’s email—the one who joined the Coast Guard. It’s all set for you to contact her. If you want.”
“How would I have known if I didn’t come here?”
“I told Ms. Jones to keep an eye out,” Mr. Rossi says.
“For me?”
“Yes,” he says. “For you.”
“Oh.” My head drops.
“What’s this?”
I press my eyes with cold fingers. “Me being happy.”
“Angelyn?”
“It’s dumb. You care.”
Mr. Rossi says, “That’s not so hard to do.”
I fix on Dolly. “That night I stayed here. You held me. You were drunk and I needed to be held. I was so happy. Did you know you were doing it?”
He doesn’t answer.
“That’s all you did, Mr. Rossi. Hold me. And I held you. Do you remember?”
Still quiet.
I point over my shoulder. “I guess I better go.”
“Be well,” he says. Dolly sits beside him, ears cocked.
“I think you were right,” I say. “She’s better here.”
“I’m glad,” Mr. Rossi says. “You know this has to be the last time you come by.”
I toss my hair. “I know. You don’t have to tell me.”
“Okay.”
Nothing left to say. For either of us.
“Well—bye.”
“Goodbye, Angelyn.”
I’m shaky, moving off. One foot in front of the other. I have to think it. Something left unsaid. Undone.
I walk back. Mr. Rossi watches, his face still.
“Thank you for being my fr—teacher,” I say. “Thank you for being my teacher and friend.”
He smiles. “You bet.”
A moment we’re there, standing close.
“See you, Mr. Rossi.”
“See you, Angelyn.”
Wind swirls dust out of the gravel as I leave the path. I wave it off, swallowing some. Trying not to cough. I wonder if he’s watching. I squint at the pool, remembering the thick chill the night I jumped in. The warmth afterward. Past it, I hear a scrabble of nails. Dolly. My heart lifts.
“Hey!” when she reaches me. I drop to my knees. The rocks dig in.
Dolly wriggles in my arms.
“You want to go with me, huh? You want to be with me.”
She licks my hand, holding her in place.
Dolly, my dog.
Stretched on my bed, there every morning.
Living my life.
I press my face to her neck. “You stay here. Home.”
I kiss Dolly. I let her go.
She looks at me and back to the house.
“That’s right,” I say. “Go home.”
I wait for him to call her. He doesn’t.
“Baby, go home,” I say, and I point, and look.
Mr. Rossi is standing. Watching. I raise my hand.
He raises his. And whistles. “Dolly!”
A whisk of her feathery tail against my arm and she is off.
I brush my cheeks and rise and move ahead toward my home.