raced to my room and shut the door. It wasnât that I didnât want to spend time with my parents, but conversations with Tameka left me with a lot to think about. Conversations about love and sex and boys. It was all racing through my mind like a freight train. If we were the last two teenagers on earth who hadnât had sex, then what was wrong with us?
My blinds were open and I caught a glimpse of Marcus pacing the floor in his room, his headphones covering his ears, a chicken leg in his hand. He caught me watching him and blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes at him, and snatched my blinds shut. Why did boys have to be so stupid?
Chapter 11
Marcus
I pulled into the driveway, Killer on the passenger seat, his head hanging out the window. As soon as I stopped my Jeep, he started barking uncontrollably.
âShut up, dude!â I told him, and he whimpered and sat on his hind legs. Cocked his head to the side and gave me a look as if to say, âwhat did I do?â German Shepherds had a way of communicating with you. They had their own personalities, and I knew what he was thinking at all times. Sometimes they acted just like little kids.
I hopped out of my truck, and Killer hopped out behind me. Justin spotted me and started pedaling his bike toward me at full speed.
âMarcus!â he yelled, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Killer.
I recognized the fear in his eyes and said, âHe wonât hurt you, little man.â
Killer ran toward Justin, jumped up on him and knocked him off of his bike. Justin yelled. âStop!â
âHe just trying to play with you, man.â I laughed. âKiller! Leave him alone.â
He continued to jump up on Jason.
âKiller, sit!â I yelled once more, this time in a deep voice that let him know that I wasnât playing.
At the sound of my voice, Killer moved away from Justin and innocently rubbed up against my leg. âStop playing so much, dude.â I rubbed his head and he began to whimper like a child again.
âIâm scared of him, Marcus. Heâs so big.â
âHe wonât hurt you, man. Heâs just a puppy.â I continued to rub Killerâs head.
âA puppy?â Justinâs eyes grew big.
âYeah, heâs just big for his age.â I laughed. âHe just wants you to play with him. Here, rub his head like this.â
Justin reached his hand out reluctantly toward Killerâs head. Rubbed the top of it, smoothing his golden mane.
âHere, rub him under here, too,â I said, telling Justin to rub Killer under his chin, just the way he liked it.
Slowly, he touched Killer under his chin.
âSee he wonât hurt you, little man. He likes that,â I said. âHe wasnât trying to hurt you, he just wanted to play.â
Justin began to relax and so did Killer.
âWhy you call him Killer?â he asked.
âBecause if he doesnât like you, heâs trained to attack.â
âHas he ever attacked somebody, Marcus?â
âJust a mailman once.â I laughed. âHe likes just about everybody, though.â
After Justin let his guard down, he and Killer started running around the yard. Justin would run just to see if he would chase him, and of course he did. Then Justin would throw a tennis ball, and Killer would take off after it, bringing it back and dropping it at Justinâs feet. Justin would throw it again, and Killer would fetch. They were okay after that.
âHey there, Marcus.â Beverly held the door opened, a silk scarf wrapped around her head.
âHi, Miss Beverly,â I said.
âThat your dog?â She asked, and I nodded. âHe bite?â
âNo, maâam. Heâs harmless.â I smiled. âHeâs still a baby.â
âThat big old dog is just a baby?â she asked, stepping out onto the porch to get a better look at Killer. âHow old?â
âSeven months,â I told