“That’s wonderful!” Amelia says.
Travis agrees. “Bean will do great. High energy border collies are perfect for this sport.”
“She does seem to love it, although we’re still working on the basics. If you want to watch, we’re in the novice group. Our start time is supposed to be around ten.” I check my watch. “And I’m running out of warm up time, so I better go.”
I hug them again, and they give Bean final pats on her back. I smile tentatively at Logan before going to find Emmy and Jude. I need to focus on getting Bean ready.
“Hey.” Jude grabs my hand when I walk up. “Who was that?”
“Bean’s veterinarian. You have to meet Travis and Amelia. They’re amazing with animals and such a sweet couple. They’re getting married at a ranch in December. Hey, maybe you can come with me!” My voice hitches at the end, when I remember that if Jude is my plus one, Logan can’t be.
“Sounds great,” Jude says.
Ugh. I’ve accidentally invited Jude to a wedding that’s still months away. Even though I’ve only known him for like a month. And I’ve already mentioned it to Logan.
Normally, I’d feel confident my friend would understand, but these days, it seems less likely. As Jude leans down to scratch Bean’s side, I close my eyes for a second and breathe.
I’ll have to sort this out later. Somehow.
Chapter Seventeen
Logan
Yeah. I officially hate this.
As I watch Jude and Stevie holding hands and talking, inches apart, I know, deep in my thirty-year-old bones, that it should be my hand she’s holding and me she’s looking to for support.
After saying goodbye to Amelia and Travis, I trudge back to the club’s tent home base. Aaron and Nisha sit in camp chairs chatting. Aaron and Bear are competing later in the advanced division. It’s their first time, he’d told me earlier. Nisha and Jack came out for moral support. Their dogs hang out in a foldable metal pen set up for the canine crowd.
Everyone gets ready to watch as the youth competition gets underway. I pull up an empty chair beside the others, but my eyes can’t stop finding Stevie and Jude standing close together as they watch the kids and dogs step to the line. Emmy puts Meadow in the pen and sits beside me.
She lowers her voice. “Hey, you okay? You look sort of . . . thunderous.”
“Thunderous?”
She smiles sympathetically. “Like a thunder cloud. Like you might start yelling or pound on someone soon.” Her gaze follows mine. “I hope you don’t pound on Jude.”
My shoulders slump. “Nah, pounding isn’t my style. But I’m not happy about how things are going.”
“Me either.”
We’d agreed that the surprise double date last weekend might not have been the best idea. Not only had heavy makeup and overdoing the cologne not deterred Stevie and Jude, they were both annoyed with us for showing up unannounced, which in hindsight we probably should have anticipated.
Stevie had seen Jude at least twice since then, Emmy told me, and worse, she seems determined to avoid me, too. It’s been almost a week, and I’ve barely seen her, except for at club on Wednesday, where everyone was focused on getting ready for today.
Emmy told me that Jude had as good a time with Stevie as she did with him. Which means our initial plan failed utterly. Emmy and I watch our friends for a minute. They’re standing even closer, if that’s possible, and smiling foolishly at each other.
“We’ll figure this out.” She pats my arm and speaks to the group. “Not many kids are competing. If we want to watch the novices, we should grab spots closer to the field.”
Emmy, Aaron, Nisha, and I along with Chloe, Scott, and a few other folks from the club carry our chairs to the edge of the competition area, a rectangle with boundaries marked and distances measured with chalk lines across the grass. Tall orange cones support ropes and flags that outline the perimeter.
The first competitor in the novice division steps up, a guy with a white and brown, meaty pit bull. From what I’ve seen so far, border collies like Bean and Meadow, Australian shepherds, or some mix of the two, are the most common types of dogs here. I’ve also seen breeds like whippets, Labrador retrievers, and cattle dogs.
“Are pit bulls common?” I ask Aaron.
“I’ve seen a few,” he says. “But this one doesn’t look too focused.”
The pittie’s owner uses treats to try to keep his dog’s attention, but the dog looks totally overexcited. He’s running in circles, chasing his tail, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Maybe it’s the crowd, the other dogs, or the pumping music they’ve been playing, but the poor guy is focused on everything except the purple disc his human futilely waves in his face.
Nisha shakes her head and laughs. “This isn’t going anywhere good.”
Sure enough, when the guy lines up and throws the disc, the dog bolts away . . . in the wrong direction. He’s apparently spotted a hot canine specimen behind his human, and he’s sniffing her butt instead of chasing down the disc. The frisbee lands yards away in the grass while the guy has to retrieve his pit bull.
“Beginner nerves,” Emmy says.
“Hopefully Bean’s not watching,” Jude says as he sits on Emmy’s other side. “They’re up third.”
After a few more unsuccessful attempts to capture the pit bull’s attention, the guy gives up. He shrugs dramatically for the crowd and leashes his dog. Everyone laughs and claps for his heroic efforts.
The second contestant is a thin middle-aged woman wearing long shorts and a wide brimmed visor. Her canine partner is a mostly white Aussie with black patches over the eyes and some freckles on the body. This dog seems more prepared. Most dogs, even the experienced ones, dance around excitedly, as if they pick up on the crowd’s energy and know they’re performing. This one stands calmly in front of her handler, keeping an eye on the blue disc she holds. The woman throws, and the Aussie takes off. The throw isn’t terribly long, and the dog catches it with ease.
“Hmm, they’re good for newbies,” Jude says.
The Aussie brings the disc back and drops it at the woman’s feet. She throws a second disc, longer this time. The dog still catches it with ease.
“Uh oh, they’re looking good,” Aaron says. “I smell a winner.”
Nisha smacks him on the arm. “Don’t say that. Stevie and Bean haven’t even gone yet.”
He raises an eyebrow. “If these two don’t make a mistake on their last throws, Stevie and Bean may not need to go.”
In a competition, pairs get sixty seconds to complete as many throws and catches as they can at distances up to about fifty yards. The longer the throw, the more points the team gets, and they’re awarded a bonus half point if the dog leaves the ground completely to catch the disc. Meadow does this with ease; Bean . . . not so much. But she’s new to it. catching the thing and bringing it back is a major accomplishment at the novice level.
Stevie has trained Bean using a stopwatch, trying to get her doing as many runs as she can in the time allotted. She usually averages about three or four. This lady and her dog are going to make it to five throws.