Free Seth Baumgartner's Love Manifesto by Eric Luper Page A

dad.”
    â€œAny guy I date would piss Dad off. Anyhow, Kevin is a good guy.”
    â€œWhere you going?” Dimitri asks her.
    Audrey snaps a pale green rubber wristband that’saround her wrist. “Some protest down at the capitol building. Something about preserving the area’s pine bush.”
    Dimitri laughs. “You said bush .”
    I look out the window again. Kevin sees me and tentatively lifts a hand to wave. “What’s with the surfboard?” I ask Audrey.
    â€œKevin says you never know when you might want to catch a wave.”
    â€œHas anyone told him we’re a hundred and fifty miles from the nearest ocean?” Dimitri says.
    â€œI think it’s cute,” Audrey says.
    Dimitri turns to me. “Let’s go, Seth. My treat.”
    I glance at the time on my cell. Correction: my mom’s cell. Shoot. I’ve got to get this thing back on the charger before she notices it’s missing or she’ll tear apart the kitchen tile by tile.
    â€œNo can do,” I say. “My mom needs me to help her with something.”
    â€œWhat’s your mom need help with in the middle of a weekday afternoon?” Dimitri asks.
    â€œYou have no idea.”

CHAPTER NINE
    T he instant I walk in the front door, my mother calls to me. “Have I got a surprise for you!”
    I bound into the kitchen to see her holding what looks like a deformed potato with bulging eyes and big, hairy ears.
    â€œIsn’t he precious?” she practically squeals.
    The tiny thing wiggles its legs and grunts.
    â€œYou got a bald hamster?”
    â€œIt’s a dog! Isn’t he the cutest little guy?”
    I jiggle the jewel-encrusted collar that falls over one of his tiny shoulders. “I didn’t realize dogs came this small. Or that you’d be getting one so soon.”
    â€œWell, Donna down at the club—you know, Donna Teal, the woman in the business office? She told me she knew a reputable breeder, and it just so happened that hehad a litter ready to go. Chihuahuas.” She holds the dog to her nose and breathes deep. “He’s even got that new puppy smell.”
    Mom holds the dog out, but I politely decline. I’m not putting my nose near something that probably just licked its own butt. The puppy narrows its bugged-out eyes at me and growls.
    â€œDoes he have a name?” I ask.
    â€œI’m going to let your father do the honors,” she says. “It’ll help him warm up to the little rascal.” She tucks the puppy under one arm as though he’s a football and starts searching around the counter.
    â€œHave you seen my cell phone?” she asks.
    I pretend not to hear her to buy myself a few seconds. I feel for her phone in the front pocket of my shorts and realize I can’t give it back. Not yet, anyway. My own phone is still wedged between my father’s car seats and forwarding calls to hers.
    â€œI said, do you know where my phone is?” she asks again. “It was on the charger when I went out this morning.”
    â€œI haven’t seen it.”
    Mom starts digging through the basket where she keeps her old magazines and catalogs.
    â€œDid you look in your purse?” I ask her.
    â€œAlready checked.” She snatches the cordless phone off the wall cradle. “If it’s anyplace within earshot, I’ll find it.” She begins keying in her own number. “Is my number nine-three-four-five or nine-three-five-four? I always forget.”
    â€œNo idea,” I say. “I’ve got you on speed dial. Umm…”
    If I don’t shut her phone down in time, I’m totally busted. I plunge my hand into my pocket and scramble to find the power button with my thumb.
    â€œI think it’s nine-three-five-four,” she says.
    Thank God for baggy pockets in cargo shorts. I flip open her cell. My fingers play across the buttons. Her key pad is a little different than mine, so