Chapter 7: The Leash

On Tuesday Beckett knocked on my dorm door holding a gift box with a gold ribbon.

"I'm resting a sprain," I said, from the bed, with my wrapped ankle on a pillow.

"I brought you something."

I opened it and found a brown leather dog leash, folded in a perfect coil.

It had a brass clip and a little tag that said PROPERTY OF.

"There's no name on it," I said.

"You can put one in."

"This is a leash."

"Everybody on campus thinks I own one," Beckett said. "I figure if I'm going to be Leash Boy, I'm going to own a nice one."

"That is the dumbest thing anyone has ever done for me."

"Is it billable?"

"A gift is free to accept," I said. "Storage is thirty dollars a month."

He laughed, a real one, and sat on the end of Dell's bunk with his elbows on his knees.

It was the first time I'd seen him look relaxed.

I put the leash in my desk drawer and thought about it more than I should have.

That Thursday was the Fall Mixer in the student union.

I went because Autumn had personally invited us, in a pink envelope, to receive the Couple of the Semester award.

"It's a trap," Dell said, zipping my dress.

"It's a plaque."

"It's a trap with a plaque."

I limped up to the stage on Beckett's arm in a boot and a green dress, and the whole union clapped.

Autumn stood at the podium in a pale yellow cardigan, with her planner on the lectern.

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