My Boyfriends' Dogs by Dandi Daley Mackall Page A

you, Bailey.”
    I wasn’t sure what he meant by “it,” but watching Carly with Went, I had a good idea. “They’re doing it, aren’t they, Darius?” I whispered.
    He shrugged. “It doesn’t mean anything to either of them.”
    â€œHow could sex not mean anything?” I whispered back. I could see Amber straining to hear us.
    â€œSee?” Darius said. “That’s why he has sex with Carly and not you. It would mean too much to you.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make any sense!” I said it too loud. Amber’s eyes got huge, and Dave looked over at us. But Went was too busy talking with Carly to notice.
    â€œMakes perfect sense,” Darius said, like we were talking about math problems. “Look, a guy’s got needs, right?” This time he lowered his voice and leaned down so we were eye level. “And you’re a virgin, right?”
    I felt my face heat to blood red. “Darius!”
    â€œI’m just saying. Carly supplies that need. You supply the rest. No big deal, girl.”
    But it was a big deal. It was a huge deal. I guess I knew in my heart that Carly and Went were . . . I couldn’t even say it to myself. Suddenly dizzy, I got up from the table.
    â€œBailey? Are you okay?” Amber’s voice mixed with the buzzing in my head.
    â€œI have to get out of here.” I ran out of the cafeteria, leaving my lunch, leaving Went there . . . with Carly. I couldn’t live like that. I couldn’t share my boyfriend. And now that I knew—really knew—what was happening, what was I going to do about it?
    Â 
    When Mom got home from work, she found Adam and me curled into a fetal position on my bed. She sat on the bed with me. “What’s the matter, honey?”
    I shook my head. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to talk to her. She was my best friend, even more than Amber was.
    â€œYou can talk to me, you know?” she said. “Something tells me this has to do with Went.”
    Tears flooded my cheeks. Poor Adam was wet from the spillage.
    â€œDid he do something to you?” she demanded.
    â€œNo!” I sat up. “He didn’t do something to me. That’s just the point.”
    She got up and paced the room, then came back to the bed and tugged me to my feet. “Come on, Bailey. I always think better when I’m saling.”
    â€œYou want to go to a garage sale? Now?” It wasn’t even a weekend.
    In minutes we were trolling the streets of Millet in search of garage sales. Neither of us said anything about Went for at least fifteen minutes.
    â€œThere’s one!” Mom slammed on the brakes like we were on a safari and had spotted our first tiger. She wheeled into a driveway with a GARAGE SALE sign stuck in the lawn. Nothing was set up outside. The sign looked old, and the garage door was shut.
    â€œMom, they’re not even open.”
    â€œThey will be.” She shut off the engine and got out.
    â€œI’ll wait here.”
    â€œCoward,” she muttered. Mom ran up to the front door and rang the bell.
    After a minute the door opened, and a woman appeared. Mom pointed to the sign. The woman shook her head. Mom begged. Finally the woman disappeared inside the house. Mom gave me a thumbs-up sign, and the garage door opened.
    In a few minutes she walked out with a giant, gaudy picture frame and a bright yellow wicker shelf that would have been perfect in a hut in the South Pacific.
    She waited until we were in the van and cruising again before she started prying. “Okay, Bailey. So what’s up with Went? Is he pressuring you to have sex? Is that it?”
    â€œNo. He’s never asked me that.”
    â€œAnd he knows you’re a . . . that you haven’t . . .” She glanced at me and didn’t even seem to notice the GIANT GARAGE SALE! sign on the lawn we were passing.
    â€œThe whole world knows I’m a virgin,