Fifteen Love by R. M. Corbet

parents wait so long? If Harriet were older and wiser she would understand what was happening in my life. She would know how to sit, beg, lie down, roll over. I could let her off the leash and she wouldn’t get run over. What was it with my parents? Didn’t they trust me to look after a dog? Or was it the idea of fleas in the carpet and dog poo on the lawn that put them off?
    My parents are so boring and predictable. The way they speak is so polite and cheerful. The way they smile is so reassuring. It’s mad to think that everyone should always be smiling. If you’re always expected to feel happy, what hope have you got of finding out how you really feel? Feeling angry or sad or nervous or scared is just a part of life. You have to feel the bad things to know that you’re alive. You have to feel bad sometimes to know when you’re feeling good. People who always smile are scared of admitting how they really feel. They think feelings are like puppy dogs – if you don’t keep them on a leash, they might run away and never come back.
    â€˜Sit, girl!’
    Harriet sits and scratches her ear with her back leg as I unhook the chain from her collar. She tilts her head and looks at the leash in my hand.
    â€˜Stay, girl!’
    I take a few steps away from her, crouch down and call her.
    â€˜Here, girl!’
    Harriet leaps towards me, then slips through my fingers and runs away across the park. When I call out for her to come back, she runs even faster.
    WILL
    Mia’s dog runs ahead of her, weaving and dodging as if it’s part of some game. I try to cut it off but it swerves at the last moment and I almost collide with Mia. Puffing and taking deep breaths, we watch the little beagle tear across the grass to where Dave is hanging from the chin-up bar. Taken by surprise as the dog leaps up and paws him, Dave loses his grip and falls to the ground. Mia puts her hand to her mouth, but I can’t help laughing. The dog has Dave pinned to the ground and is licking his face and hair.
    And Dave loves it.
    â€˜Harriet!’ Mia cries. She runs over and pulls Harriet off as I help my brother back into his wheelchair. Normally, Dave would be embarrassed about meeting a pretty girl for the first time. But because of Harriet, his excitement has overcome any shyness. He calls the dog to him and lifts her up into his wheelchair. Harriet sits there, uncomfortable and uncertain, as Dave scratches her back and pulls on her ears. When I introduce Mia, he looks her up and down.
    â€˜Will told me all about you,’ he says.
    Mia laughs. ‘What did he say?’
    â€˜He said you were his friend, not his girlfriend.’
    â€˜I see,’ says Mia. ‘How many chin-ups can you do?’
    â€˜A hundred and eight!’ says Dave proudly. ‘How many can you do?’
    â€˜Maybe one, if I’m lucky.’
    Dave laughs, then frowns suddenly.
    â€˜Will did fifty!’ he says. ‘That’s because he doesn’t want to play tennis.’
    With Harriet held captive on his lap, Dave gives Mia a blow-by-blow account of the tennis match, complete with coaching tips, fitness advice and brotherly sympathy. There is nothing I can do or say. The more I try to interrupt them, the more determined they are to talk about me. I can see that Mia likes Dave and Dave likes Mia. It isn’t long before he starts babbling.
    â€˜Will got me a book called The Encyclopedia of Tennis . I’m up to page 460. You can borrow it when I’m finished. It’s got everything in it. It’s got the fifty greatest players of all time and the scores of all the big games. I play tennis, too. What about you? Do you play tennis?’
    â€˜Mia plays in the orchestra, Dave. She plays the viola.’
    Dave nods knowingly. ‘Will knows lots of jokes about violas. Tell her, Will. Tell her the one about the smashed-up viola.’
    When I look at Mia, she has tears in her eyes.
    Dave looks up at