Page 51 of Torn
“Dad, I’ll be fine. Stop being a helicopter. I’ve been riding my bicycle to Tor’s house and all over town since I was eleven years old. I think the car is probably much safer. I’ll text you when I get there, and when I leave, and when I get home.”
That gets me his famous smile. “Deal. I’ll be in the studio most of the day working some new vocals, so I’ll be able to focus better if I know you’re safe and sound.”
“Don’t work too hard. And I can’t wait to hear your new stuff.I know it’s going to be amazing. As always.” I kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
As soon as I get in my new Jeep, I’m tempted to take a selfie to send to Chloe but I stop myself. I promised Dad no phone shenanigans in the car, and even though I’m technically still parked in the driveway, I’m going to stick to my word.
At least about the phone. Idoblast my favorite music pretty damn loud on the fifteen-minute drive over to Tor’s house. What’s the point of having a kick-ass stereo system if you don’t use it?
Usually I let myself into his house with my own key but I feel odd doing that now, so I knock. Hearing the dog bark makes me smile and I wonder if he’ll remember me.
The door opens a few seconds later and when he’s smiling down at me, everything feels normal again. He’s wearing my purple heart beanie, and I’m wearing his old Guns N’ Roses T-shirt I stole last year. We’re us again. His gaze shifts behind me to his driveway and he breaks out into a bigger grin.
“You finally got your car. Jeeps are nice. Good choice.”
“Yup! I love it.”
“It’s cool. White suits you, Angel. I could hear you coming from way down the street, though. I figured Ash would make sure you had the best sound system.”
“Don’t even start,” I tease, nudging by him, where I’m immediately greeted by a mass of white fur and a tongue. I kneel and the dog is all happy wiggles, wagging his huge plume of a tail and licking my face. His back leg is in a blue cast, but he seems to be getting around okay with it.
“Wow, Tor! He’s so white! And fluffy! He almost looks like a different dog!”
“Tell me about it. Who knew under that wet muddy dog was a cloud with paws.”
“He’s gorgeous!” The dog is beautiful, like a show dog you’d see on television, and he’s obviously very happy, with an immense love for people. He’s prancing around the room, going from me to Toren to get patted, and he almost looks like he’s smiling.
“I love him! How has he been since you brought him home?”
“He’s been really good. He’s house trained, and except for gnawing on the legs of the coffee table, he hasn’t done anything bad. The vet thinks he’s about two years old. His back leg is healing up nice.”
I look up at him as I hug the dog’s neck. “And nobody came for him? No postings about a lost dog matching his description?”
He shakes his head. “Nope, nothing. Ty checked all the databases, going back three years, and there’s nothing within a hundred-mile radius listing an all-white dog. I can’t believe his owners aren’t missing him. It’s messed up.”
“It is.” I don’t know how someone could have such a great dog and not even report him missing. I hope nothing horrible happened to his owner.
“You’ll have to do a lot more vacuuming now,” he jokes. “The fur that comes off him on a daily basis is crazy. It sucks for me since almost all my shirts are black. I can’t get out of the house without having white fur on me.”
I stand up and smooth down my T-shirt, which is covered in fur now, too. “I’ll get you one of those lint roller things if you don’t have one.”
“I’ve been using masking tape and went through a roll already. Pick me up a bunch of those lint things.” He reaches into his wallet and hands me a fifty-dollar bill. “You’re still going to clean and stuff, right?”
I nod, taking the bill from him. “Yes, and make you dinner.”
“Wicked cool. That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”We watch as Diogee grabs a big white bone off the floor and carts it over to a dog bed in the corner of the living room to chew on.
“He seems really happy, Tor. I’m so glad you kept him. I’m looking forward to seeing him now when I come over. I could brush him for you, too, if you want.”
“That would be awesome. He obviously loves you. He’s a little high maintenance, so I’ll take all the help you want to give.”
“I don’t mind at all. I asked Dad for a dog again but he said no, that I can basically come over here and hang out with yours.”
“I’m good with that. Anytime you want to come over is fine. You know that by now. Since he’s all settled on his bed, you want to see what I’ve done to the backyard?”
“Of course.”
A few weeks ago, he told me he wanted to do some landscaping in his yard and plant some new flowers and shrubs because he was sick of looking at nothing but grass and rocks. When we step outside the sliding glass doors to his patio, I’m completely unprepared to see what he’s done. He fenced in the entire yard with white fencing and planted different-shaped shrubs, a myriad of colorful flowers that I can’t even name, a birdbath, and a hummingbird feeder, along with various birdhouses nailed to the trees. But the part that blows me away is a stone walkway that leads to a tiny pond with an old wrought-iron bench nearby. He’s watching me with a grin on his face, waiting for my reaction.