A Lost Pup

I quickly sit up, pick my phone and dial her number.

"Babe!!" Evelyn screams into my ears the instant she picks up, "you completely put me on hold you selfish skank!" She yells, "I'm so annoyed at you right now, don't fucking talk to me!"

I respond with a soft laugh. It always felt so good hearing her voice.

"Don't be mad, Lynn," I say in a low tone, almost a whisper, "you know the coffeeshop's been quite busy these days."

"Is that why you sound like you're about to die," Evelyn croaks, "or wait, don't tell me you're already dead? Am I talking to Lottie's ghost?"

"May be, considering I'm back at my parents'." I can hear Evelyn gasp over the noise of clanking metal.

"Oh my word! Did Melinda finally castrate you for not getting a boyfriend?"

"Almost, fortunately I could escape it this time." We both laugh, but the continuous clanking is enough for me to get curious.

"You busy or what?" I ask, and I can feel her grinning from the other end as she clears her throat and replies proudly,

"Ahem, I'm making cupcakes."

"Oh my days," I exclaim with widened eyes, "did your fairy godmother finally show up?"

"Are you taking the mick out of me right now?" she scoffs, "Lottie, I'm taking baking seriously you know."

"Okay, okay. Don't blow up your place though," I joke as I head out of the house, "you being serious has always been a bad omen."

"Put a sock in it will yer."

***

It's been three days straight since Melinda gave me the silent treatment. To be honest, it isn't half bad, even though it does piss me off sometimes. Still, I prefer it this way, rather than the constant interrogation of the men I don't have in my life. I was certain she would give up eventually, as she always did, and come to me by starting off with the small talks about the coffeehouse. But it's been three effing days already!

At the front door, I sit on the steps while holding a plastic bag. Thinking and sighing, and thinking. Wondering how nothing in the neighborhood had changed in the least, except me. It's getting dark, but my legs have already given in to exhaustion. And instead of making an attempt to get back in, I release a deep breath that must've come from the pit of my stomach.

The cold winds stop blowing and the chirping of birds fall silent. There's a sudden spread of goosebumps on my upper arm again, and my heartbeat increases. This doesn't feel so good.

Something feels off, and I'm definitely not ready for whatever it is.

I sense a presence nearby, and it feels stark. With a sharp glance to my left, I notice a pair of silver dots watching me from a distance. It doesn't move. Is it a cat? I ask myself as I walk quietly and naturally, towards the creature. It twitches as soon as it realizes I have my eyes set on it and starts growling.

As I peer closely, I discover it is actually a very small puppy—an extremely small one. The bark was unlike any other dog, and from that scrawny body came a sound like a seventy-five year old man hiccoughing.

"Poor thing," I say with a sigh of relief, and bend low to pat it but it jerks away backwards, "are you shy or lost? Or just...abandoned?" I sneer. "Shit happens bruv, you'll get used to it." It just stares at me strangely in response, its growl getting weaker.

"You must've been so scared." I stick my hand into the plastic bag I held. It watched with earnestness while I rummaged through it.

"You hungry?" I ask and pause, as if I am expecting a reply, "you can have some of these—they're a bit crunchy but taste like shit." I tear open a pack of biscuits which I supposedly bought for Melinda to make up for our disagreement. Then I let the pup eat from my palms, while watching it with a huge grin.

'What a cute little fella.'

All of a sudden, the dog stops eating, stands up and frantically looks around as if sensing something. I look around as well part curious, part anxious. But I don't see or feel anything out of place, except for the presence of the dog of course.

And before I can get my gaze back, it grapples the bag from me fiercely, and bolts without a glance behind.

Despite being confused, I release a soft chuckle thinking,

"What a clever creature."

As I head back home, the smile is wiped out from my face by the sudden realization that my purse was also in the plastic bag, alongside other unimportant stuff, that the dog had wrestled from my grip.

"Fuck!" With that, I dash out after the dog, "if I'd known I'd be running like this, I would've gone to the gym more often." I say to myself already out of breath.

Luckily, it hadn't run that far off. Perhaps I'm not a bad runner after all. Either that, or the distance the dog covered wasn't so much.

It bolts even faster.

"Shit!" I gnarl as it turned to a dark corner by the street. I follow suit immediately and with that speed, bang into a brick wall, falling down like pebble. Unfortunately, I sustain a bruise on my elbow. But fortunately, it is a small one.

"What the fuck was..." I stare at the wall, and for some reason, it seemed oddly familiar. It stares down at me with his cold, grey eyes while he held a phone in his left hand. That long, black coat and thick black dreads quickly remind me of something unpleasant I'd buried at the back of my mind.

The stranger at the coffeeshop.

"Y-You!" I hiss at him, lifting myself up, "I know you! You're that—wait," I pause, glancing around for the puppy while being aware of the man shooting me a death glare like I am some insect, "before that, there was a pup—"

"Apologies first, excuses later." He interrupts in a stern, polite way that makes me unable to tell if he was actually being serious or this was just another lame joke I got caught up in.

"Er, do we...know each other?" I ask, squinting my eyes, "you keep looking lik—"

"Did I stutter?"

"What?"

"I said, apologies first, excuses later." He repeats in a low husky tone, that makes me feel a familiar hotness at the back of my throat.

"Excuse me, 'sir'," I begin, tightening my fury in a jar, "first of all you were in the way, that puppy ran off with my purse. And you, who the fuck just stands at an—"

"What dog are we referring to here?" He interrupts again, and I can feel my insides twist in rage.

"The one that ran...that ran.." I look around again, pointing to the wall. Only then do I realize that there is a deadend ahead of us, which made it apparent that I was the paranoid one and he was just an innocent bystander.

His poker face and raised eyebrow peer into my embarrassed face and I clear my throat awkwardly as I explain, "I swear there was a really small brown dog that ran straight into this corner with a yellow plastic bag in its mouth, and if it weren't for you, I would've had it. Well then..."

I wave, turning to leave. There's a black car, which looked quite expensive for even someone like me who knew absolute zero about cars, parked at the side.

It must belong to this prat, since he appears so well-off.

He mutters under his breath as I move away, "Excuses, how silly." Which, most annoyingly, I hear loud and clear despite the onslaught of vehicles behind us. And as I turn to face him quickly, he releases a sigh that said he didn't sign up for this bullshit and stretches out his hand. I look at it, and then back at his face with a confused, but vengeful expression.

"You want an introduction, after all this?" I move my fingers in between us.

"Give me your phone." He says, with his usual icy tone of indifference, "I'll help you find it."

But that doesn't sound right. "Or does he just feel a tad bit sorry for me after all?" I think for a brief moment, and immediately shake it off, "but more importantly, why my phone though, what about his?"

"Aren't you giving it here?" He asks coldly. And I wince.

My hand instinctively reaches into my pocket. "The dog, then? You’re gonna help me find the pup and the purse?"

"No," he replies, deadpan. "Not that."

"Then what the hell for?"

He looks me dead in the eye, lips barely parting.

"Psychiatrists in your area—I'll help you find them."

Bloody son of a bit—