The only thing left to do was to go home.

I don’t really remember driving over to Coach Wilson’s house, but I sat parked in front of his place for several minutes before realizing how many cars and pickups were parked around it. Of course, Coach and his buddies would be watching the game. Another car arrived while I sat there.

I started Baby Blue up and drove away before anyone saw me.

The only thing left to do was to go home.

#

I stopped on the bare patch of lawn north of the house, avoiding parking under the trees because pines are not kind to car finishes.

I went through the back gate where Wug said hello with a low-pitched rumble. I gave his wooly head a thorough scritch, and he wagged his other end in appreciation. Sheepdogs of his breed usually have docked tails, and Wug made up the difference in length with energy. He brought me one of his rubber toys, a thing like a bird carcass, and I threw it a few times for him.

He followed me around to the patio, where I sat on the old wooden bench for a bit while he settled down to gnaw on the mutant chicken. I encouraged him with fake growls and murmurs of, “What a good boy! Kill the evil chicken!”

Wug did his usual good job while I slipped through the back door into the laundry room, then the short hallway. The door to my bedroom stood open. Curious, I approached it carefully and peeked inside.

Jordan looked up from where she bent over my chest of drawers. “You never put your laundry away, Petey,” she commented mildly.

I made a noise. I didn’t like her being in my room, but it was true that I seldom remembered to put things away since the laundry basket full of clean underwear would be just across the hall if I needed something.

Jordan looked up at me sideways. “Something happened?” she asked.

I didn’t know what to tell her, moving my head in a circle that was neither yes nor no.

She put the rest of the laundry on the stool and stood up. “Anything you want to talk about?”

The noise I made this time might have been a hiccough – but wasn’t. I just stared at her until she took my hand and led me toward the bed. We sat side by side, faces almost on the same level. Jordan is tall, but I’m several inches taller, even sitting down.

“Megan?” she asked.

I nodded, wondering if my face looked as miserable as I felt. I touched the mouse under my eye, but a glance at the mirror showed that it was still concealed.

“Did you dump her, or did she dump you?” Jordan asked.

I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter,” I mumbled.

Jordan squeezed my hand. “Well, at least Lee is still your friend.”

“Not the same,” I mumbled again.

“Hmm,” she agreed. “Did he ask you out, or did you ask him?”

“Jordan!” I protested. “It’s—it’s not…” I didn’t finish.

She stood and reached for the laundry pile. “I found something in the dryer,” she said. “Speaking of Megan….” She held up a bit of lace. “Is this hers? It’s too big to be yours.” She giggled, waving the bra around.

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