Page 22 of Pucked Together

I hear whimpering on the other side of the bathroom door. The fur ball must need to go out, and nobody else is home to take her. Great, now I'm forced to dog-sit against my will.

I stand up from the bed and walk to the bathroom door leading to Izzy's room. I see Wednesday sitting by the hallway door, still whimpering. She hasn't even noticed me.

"Hey, fur ball, you wanna go outside?"

She stays sitting and totally ignores me. Still staring at the door. Still whimpering.

"Earth to fluff."

Nothing.

"Wednesday!"

She finally stops and looks at me.

"Wow, ok. You only respond to your real name. Got it. Outside?" I hook my thumb towards the window.

It's then that I take in the state of Izzy's room. I look around and see clothes flung about and shoes piled outside the closet, and it looks like someone raided the drawers in a hurry.

"Did you do all this?" I ask the dog as if she can understand me.

She finally walks over to me and sits in front of my feet, staring up at me. Next to her is a blue and yellow jersey. I pick it up to see the classic lettering that says UCLA. When I turn it, Sincaid is sprawled across the back in bold letters.

Looks like seeing him today must’ve brought back some memories.

"Let me guess, it was your crazy mom." I throw the jersey back down. "I pegged her for more of a clean freak. Come on."

I reach down to pick up Wednesday, and she snaps at me.

"Hey! You're the one crying to be let out."

The dog snarls at me and looks back at the bedroom door with a whimper. Maybe she doesn't have to go out. Maybe she misses her psycho mom.

"Look, I don't know where she's at. But if she's with the other bozos, it might be a while."

The dog looks back at me and then gets up, walks past me through the bathroom, and into my room.

"Hey, where you going, fur ball?"

Wednesday jumps onto my bed, walks around in a few circles, and I think she's about to lay down when I hear the familiar sound of piss. Izzy's dog is peeing on my fucking pillow and looks me right in the eye as she does it.

"Mother f-ugh. That's it!" I point at her. I fish my phone from out of my pocket and dial Keelan.

He answers on the third ring, "EE-yello?"

"Where's your sister?" I grit out.

I hear the sound of pulsing club music in the background.

"What?" He yells back.

"I said, where's Izzy?"

"Izzy? She's with me. Why?"

"Her dog pissed on my bed."

"You want her in your bed?"