Alpha Dog (21 page)

But Christine would love it. And she deserved to have it. I knew there was no way I could replace the stuff Seamus had destroyed, but I could at least try to make it up to her in a small way.

I decided to buy it for her—as a peace offering.

“Do you take checks?” I asked, digging through my backpack.

“As long as you show an ID.”

Just then, Seamus started growling and straining against the leash. A squirrel had scampered over to a nearby trash can and was busy ferreting out food.

“Seamus, sit,” I ordered.

He glanced up at me and lowered his hind end.

“Stay,” I said firmly, holding up my hand.

He swallowed and made a faint whining noise, but otherwise stayed put.

Holding the leash tight, I handed the vendor my hastily scribbled check and driver’s license.

“Wow!” she exclaimed. “Your dog is so well behaved.”

I looked back at him and smiled. Seamus saw me and pricked his ears, his tail sweeping back and forth against the stone walkway.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “He is, isn’t he?”

As I stood outside our door, I could hear muffled voices from within. Christine was definitely home. I walked into the condo with Seamus and saw her sitting on the couch with Robot. Lyle and Kinky sat in the flanking armchairs.

Immediately the room grew quiet.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey,” the guys said back. Christine didn’t say anything.

I set my keys on the console table and started changing Seamus into his buckle collar. The silence was unbearably strained. And it didn’t help that Lyle, Kinky and Robot kept staring from me to Christine wearing identical eager-yet-tense expressions.

“Your mom called,” Christine said without turning around, making it seem as if her voice was emanating from the back of her head.

“She did?” I asked, barely able to hear myself over my heartbeat.

Did she sell me out? Is Mom on her way right now with
an application to an all-girls boarding school in Denmark?

“Don’t worry.” Christine laid her head against the arm of the sofa and looked at me. “I didn’t rat on you or anything.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying to look casual. “I didn’t think you had.”

“Yeah, right.” Christine’s face smoothed in a semi-smile before she turned back around.

I finished with Seamus and set him out onto the balcony. Still no one talked, but at least some of the chill had left the air.

“Your dog seems different,” Robot remarked in his accent. “You been giving him pills?”

“Uh-uh,” I said, smiling. “We’re taking obedience classes. He’s getting pretty good at sitting and heeling. He’s really pretty smart.”

“Man, my brother’s dog should take some of those,” Kinky said. “Every time I go near him, he barks and runs away.”

Lyle frowned at him. “Dude,
you
should take some of those classes. The dog doesn’t like you ‘cause you tried to put a shirt on him that one time.”

As I slipped off my backpack, I felt the lump of Christine’s present in the side pocket. “Hey, Christine,” I said, pulling out the box. “I have something for you.”

Her forehead crinkled in surprise. “For me?”

“It’s just something I saw and thought you should have.”

I handed it to her. She peered at me quizzically before lifting the lid off the box and pulling back the tissue paper. The wiener dog lay nestled on a bed of cotton. “Ohhh!” she exclaimed, picking it up. It sparkled in the lamplight as she slowly twisted it in her grasp. The guys huddled around for a closer look.

“I know it isn’t the same. I know I can’t make up for what Seamus did,” I babbled, “but I just wanted to try to make it up to you a little.”

“Thanks,” she said. Her eyes were still a little guarded-looking, but her voice sounded softer than I’d ever heard it.

“You’re welcome.”

“
Awwww,
isn’t that sweet?” Lyle said, his eyes blinking mawkishly behind his glasses.

Robot nodded. “Bloody heartwarming, that is.”

Kinky sniffled and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

“Cut it out,” Christine snapped, giving Robot a shove.

“Yeah,” I jumped in. “Go watch
Zoom
or something.”

“Actually, we’ve got to go soon, love,” Robot said, stabbing out his cigarette on the top of an empty Dr Pepper can. “We’ve got a sound check in less than an hour.”

“You guys have a gig?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“It’s the Battle of the Bands, man!” Lyle whooped.

“Yeah!” Kinky nodded, his Chia Pet hairdo boinging up and down. “We’ve been practicing really hard. I think we could actually w—”

“Stifle!” Robot shouted. “Better not say it, bloke!”

“Oh. Right.” Kinky leaned toward me and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Robot’s superstitious.”

“Well, good luck,” I said, trying to sound casual. I sat down in the armchair vacated by Kinky and pretended to stretch.

“Man, oh man,” Lyle said, hopping around in his striped high-tops. “This is going to be so cool!”

Yeah. Cool for you,
I groused silently. Once again I went all weak with self-pity. What made me think I could actually start up a whole new social scene here in Austin? Even my own roommate didn’t want to be with me.

The guys loped toward the door, but Christine remained standing in front of the couch, still holding the box with the wiener dog in it. She was staring at me intently. “You know, you should come with us,” she said.

“Really?”

She shrugged. “Why not?”

“Great!” I squealed, leaping to my feet. It was the exact opposite of cool, but I didn’t care. Even if I ended up having a horrible time, the fact that Christine wanted me along meant a lot.

“Um . . .” Christine pressed her lips together and looked out onto the balcony. “What about him?”

“Seamus? I guess I’ll just put him in my room with the radio on. I promise I’ll make triple sure the door is shut all the way. He’s been really good lately when I go to classes. But it might be different at night.” I stared at her uncertainly and bit the nails of my right hand.

Christine smiled reassuringly. “Hey, you’ve got to test it sometime. Why not tonight?”

It felt good to hear her vote of confidence in my dog. And she was right: I had to leave him alone some night eventually. Besides, I really wanted to go. “Okay,” I said. “I just need a minute or two to get him settled.”

“Yo!” Kinky’s bushy head poked back through the doorway. Behind him, I could see the other guys standing impatiently on the landing. “What’s taking so long? We want to grab some burritos on the way.”

“Hold on. Katie’s coming with us,” Christine shouted back at him.

“Cool,” he said, his head bobbing to an unheard song. “We’ll meet you guys at the van.”

We could hear them rumbling down the stairs, arguing about where to stop for food.

“You know what?” Christine grabbed my arm. “You should so ask that guy Matt to come with us.”

“Um, yeah.” The last time I’d seen Matt, I was screeching at him for trying to help me. I had a pretty good feeling he wouldn’t want to go anywhere with me. “I don’t think so.”

He was someone else I needed to apologize to, but I wasn’t sure how. At this point, the damage was pretty much done.

“Whatever,” Christine said with a shrug. “You can always hang with me if you like.”

I grinned at her. “Actually, I would like that. A lot.”

The ride downtown was a unique thrill. Christine, Lyle and I sat squeezed in the backseat of the van, while Kinky and Robot sat up front. The van’s interior had an odd, wet-carpet smell. The vinyl seats were ripped, bandaged here and there by long lengths of duct tape, and my feet were ankle-deep in fast-food wrappers. Whenever Kinky would put on the brakes, the equipment piled up behind us would slam into our seat.

Eventually Kinky pulled up in front of the warehouse-district club called the Danger Zone, where the Battle of the Bands was taking place, and let Christine and me out.

“See y’all inside!” Kinky called out the window as he turned the van down the nearby alley to unload the equipment.

A line to get into the club was already forming. Most of the people in the crowd were the same pale, funeral-garb-wearing types I’d met at our party. But there were also quite a few jocks, each sporting ironed khaki shorts, a polo shirt and a bleach blonde on his arm.

I headed for the end of the line, but Christine grabbed my elbow. “Uh-uh,” she said. “Follow me.”

She led me to the entrance, where a truck-sized Hispanic guy sat perched on a stool collecting the cover charge.

“Hey, Ernie!” she called, pushing past a few people.

“Christine,” he said, smiling. “Thought I’d see you. You on the guest list?”

“Yep. And this is Katie. She’s helping us out tonight, so you’ve got to let her in too.”

He tipped his Astros baseball cap at me. “Welcome,” he said. “You ladies can go right in, but first I need to stamp you as minors.”

Christine made a face. “Come on, Ernie. You know we’ll be good.”

“Sorry,
chula.
This is a big night. The newspapers are here and everything.”

“Really?” She held out her hand for the stamp, peering past Ernie into the darkness and noise. “That’s awesome.”

Ernie grabbed my hand and stamped a glow-in-the-dark image of Marvin the Martian onto the back of it. “Have fun,” he said, nodding toward the interior of the club.

“Don’t worry,” Christine said. “We will.”

We walked down a short corridor into the main area of the club. A guitar-heavy rock group with a female lead singer was on stage.

“Oh God, I
hate
these guys,” Christine shouted to me over the noise. She halted at the end of the corridor as if refusing to go any farther. “She wants to be Courtney Love so bad, and it is so not happening. She just likes to shake her boobs in front of a roomful of strangers.”

“She’s shaking more than that right now,” I said, pointing to where the singer was now lying on the stage, bellowing into the microphone and writhing around into various contorted positions. “You know, if she wasn’t so skinny, I’d think she was in labor.”

Christine cracked up.

The song ended then and the crowd began clapping and cheering—especially the guys. Christine climbed onto an empty chair and began yelling, “Boo!” with her hands cupped around her mouth. A few other people nearby, girls mainly, joined in.

I shook my head, marveling at her. It amazed me how Christine could feel so at ease in a pack of strangers when I didn’t even feel at home . . . well . . . at
home.
Would I ever feel that carefree? Or would my mom’s voice always sound in my brain, warning me to behave as properly as she did at my age and not smear our good McAllister name?

Well, frankly I was sick of acting like a good McAllister. ‘Cause apparently all McAllisters were twee, namby-pamby little killjoys.

Tonight, I was going to have a great time. Even if it meant becoming someone else.

“Whoooh!” I shouted over the heads of the cheering audience. “All right, New Bile! Whoooh!”

Christine said something I couldn’t hear and shoved my shoulder playfully, sending me flailing about for a second or two, trying to regain my balance.