Go Your Own Way by Zane Riley Page B

morning when he’d been stranded at a baseball victory party because his ride got drunk. A respect existed between all three of them that his friends thought was weird, but Will was glad to have it and them, too.
    “Thanks.” Will set his cup in the sink before he voiced some­thing that had been bothering him since Tuesday. “I always thought the first boy that—well, that liked me back would be nicer.”
    “Is he really that bad?”
    “He struts around with an ankle monitor,” Will said. Karen blanched. “And no, I don’t know why he’s got it, but it can’t be for any good reason.”
    “Right. Did you tell your dad that?”
    Will gave her a look.
    “Good choice. I don’t like judging people I don’t know, but I also fully support you staying away from this boy,” Karen said. “I’m going to go shower and change out of my scrubs. Let Oyster in before you go downstairs.”
    Karen headed out of the kitchen and down the hall. Will grabbed his backpack and opened the back door. Oyster came bounding in with his favorite stick and a thumping tail. Will used the towel by the back door to clean the mud and dirt off the dog’s paws and white fur. He wasn’t the easiest dog to keep clean, but now that he was getting older, at least he spent less time rolling in mud puddles. No amount of mud he got into now would ever beat the mess he’d been the day Will and Ben met him.
    Every year, the two of them took a trip across the state to the Chesa­peake Bay to buy fresh seafood. That year, Will had been nine and fresh from his last day of third grade. Rain had thundered on the roof of the car, and Ben’s hands had clenched the steering wheel as they trudged down the highway. Will’s Game Boy was dead, he couldn’t see anything but rain and he was getting very bored.
    “Daddy, aren’t we there yet?” Will sighed and kicked at the passenger seat. He twisted in his seat and fiddled with the seat belt.
    “Another hour, Will. I told you I’ve gotta drive slower because—whoa!”
    Their truck swerved, Will shouted and Ben stomped on the brakes until the truck stopped. Will unbuckled, clambered up to the front seat and peered out the windshield through the fast whipping of the wipers.
    “You hit a baby bear!”
    “I did not!”
    “Yes, you did! He’s limping.”
    Before Ben could stop him, Will hurried out and rushed over to the brown figure. Only it wasn’t a bear. It was part box and part muddy dog. A little puppy whimpered at him; his paws covered his eyes. Will peered into the box with his chest tight. How could some awful person leave a puppy on the side of the road? What if somebody had run him over or he’d been eaten by a monster in the woods?
    “Come here, puppy,” Will said as the puppy moved his paws from his eyes and crawled toward him. “We’re gonna take you to get yummy oysters and then you can sleep with me in my big race car bed!”
    Will’s dad ran up behind him.
    “Will, how many times do I have to tell you not to run into the road?”
    “Can we keep him?” Will let the puppy sniff his hand and then picked him up. He was a little bigger than the fat cat they’d had when he was younger. The pup had pointy ears, a curly tail and thick, soaked fur.
    Ben kneeled down beside him and looked the puppy over. “Looks like a husky. Bud, we don’t—”
    “You almost hit him! We can’t leave him in the road.” He gave Ben a stern look and tilted his chin toward the rain still splattering down on them. “He’s my new puppy. I’m gonna name him Oyster ‘cause we’re going to get oysters and we found him instead.”
    “William, do you remember your goldfish? The one you never took care of?”
    “The one you knocked off the table?” Will stuck out his tongue at Ben and headed back to the truck. He’d spent the rest of the ride drying Oyster off with the emergency towels Ben kept under the seat. By the time they were back home that night, Ben had bought food, a collar and a bed and had