Chapter 17: In the Heat of the Day

Hellie started tugging at the leash, pulling for the door.

Her actions unlocked an old memory.

Every time I was late taking Nightshade out to relieve herself, she would bring her leash and drop it at my feet.

Crap, Hellie needs to use the restroom.

“Thanks, everyone. Mr. Vaughn, that’s my assignment. Sorry to ask you to duck out, but I need to leave now. As you can see, my Hellie needs to be walked.”

“Interesting, Mr. Bramwell-Gates. You can leave.”

Hellie yanked me even closer to the door.

On the way out, I heard Mr. Vaughn’s final words.

“Class dismissed. Watch for an email containing experiment instructions. Also, please complete the attached summary questionnaire and return it by the end of the week.”

Hellie yanked the chain hard again.

She was looking out the large-paned windows in the hallway. I could tell she wanted to be on the other side of it in the lush campus grass.

“Outside.”

The word heightened Hellie’s anxiousness, and I had to jog to keep up with her.

Weird Nikki and Jammer greeted me when we got into the hall, still apologetic. But I had no time to hear their explanation for why Hellie was there.

“Guys, she needs to use the restroom. Come on.”

“Oh. That’s why she insisted I put the collar on her.”

Jammer’s disposition had changed since the last time I saw her. She was strangely cheerful.

“Umm, we can’t take her out to the lawn and let her pop a squat,” Weird Nikki sarcastically piped up.

“I know that! We’re taking her to the girl’s room.”

Throughout our speed walk, I had to redirect Hellie several times with the leash. My actions drew ire and strange looks from the people walking past us.

“Ballsy, putting your hellhound right out in the open.”

Weird Nikki homed in on my stress and couldn’t resist that urge to comment.

“Not like I had a choice. The room was ready to riot.”

After hustling through the crowded hallway, we finally arrived at the restroom.

“Which one of you is taking her in?”

Weird Nikki and Jammer looked genuinely dumbfounded by my question.

“You’re the one with the chain.”

They both seemed elated by Weird Nikki’s response.

“Ha, ha. Not funny. I can’t go into the girl’s room, and she can’t go alone. At this point, she’s exhibiting more dog behaviors than human ones.”

A girl walking out of the restroom narrowed her eyes and snarled at us. It was likely a response to my words and me holding Hellie on a leash.

I immediately softened the volume of my voice.

“So one of you has to assist. Look at her; she’s ready to pop that squat.”

“You want us to potty train her? Wipe her? Oh no.”

Weird Nikki snatched the leash from my hand and promptly passed it to Jammer.

“Don’t fight it. You know you’re the best candidate. Didn’t you and your cute, quirky personality get her to sit still for hair and makeup?”

“You know I did, but that was way different.”

“Focus on ‘sit still.’ It’s a no-brainer. Billy, Jammer’s got this.”

“Alright. Come on, Hellie.”

“Wait.”

Weird Nikki disappeared into the restroom and exited a few seconds later, escorting an annoyed girl out.

“Okay. It’s clear. Yell if there’s a problem.”

Weird Nikki held the door open as Hellie and Jammer stepped inside.

I did my best to impart some final wisdom to Jammer.

“If she doesn’t know what to do, slowly show her.”

Jammer’s eyes widened like saucers, sugary with panic.

I nearly caved. But I couldn’t take Hellie into the women’s restroom—so I didn’t.

“Hellie, listen to Jammer.”

After the door closed, there was an awkwardness between Weird Nikki and me.

She posted up in front of the entrance, ready to shoo away anyone who tried to enter.

I eagerly dug out my cell and read Myles’s text.

???

Myles was probably home freaking out more than the rest of us. A nagging feeling prompted me to send him some relief.

“Texting Myles, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I told him not to involve you.”

Before speaking to Weird Nikki, I wrote what seemed like a page and sent it to Myles.

“So, when were you going to tell me Hellie broke loose?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have if I had gotten her back.”

Facing each other, we locked our eyes and stayed quiet.

After a brief period, we simultaneously shared a smile.

Then Weird Nikki leaned forward and whispered, “You’re magical, like, super effing magical. You summoned a creature from another dimension.”

“I know.”

My eyes grew glossy with joy, and my signature devilish grin spread wide. It was the first time I felt happy about my supercharged, real-life casting skills.

Our quiet acknowledgment vanished when Weird Nikki’s eyes shifted beyond me.

“Uh oh. Turn around, Billy. We got company.”

Someone touched my shoulder before I could respond to Weird Nikki’s rushed comment.

“Excuse me.”

I turned to see two of the building’s security guards standing side by side. They were dressed in their official school-branded uniforms, physically imposing, muscular, and tall.

These guys were part of Mr. Shulenmeyers’ recent efforts to beef up security.

All because a handful of students claimed a bat-wielding stalker with supernatural movement was terrorizing campus.

The Campus Slugger.

Rumors of the psycho had spread like wildfire in under a month, birthing another campus legend.

And we already had too many of those.

Now I had to deal with the fallout—overcompensating on security, the price we’d always paid for giving in to mob mentality.

Even though I had mocking thoughts about the goon squad, I treated them respectfully. With all the craziness in the air, I didn’t want another incident with my name attached to reach Mr. Shulenmeyers.

“Yes, how can I help you?”

When the lead security guard recognized me, his whole posture shifted.

“Oh, Mr. Bramwell-Gates.”

Shaken a bit, he looked over at his partner but continued.

“Sorry for the interruption. But we had three young ladies reporting that you had a girl on a leash and were yanking her in an abusive manner.”

I quickly scanned the crowd.

I knew those girls were watching.

No one turns you into the authorities without sticking around to see the reward of causing trouble or, in their minds, fixing it.

Over by a stairwell, I saw them trying to stay inconspicuous, but they never took their eyes off us.

I don’t even remember seeing them. Could they be cult members outside of their robes and masks?

Weird Nikki kicked my heel to jog me out of my zone.

“No abuse, sir. I just walked her to the restroom.”

“On a dog’s leash?”

“Yes, sir.”

After seeing a hilarious, puzzled look of disbelief on the security guard’s face, Weird Nikki and I glanced away from one another, afraid we were going to burst out in laughter.

“Is the young lady in there?”

“Yeah, she had to pee or whatever. We’re waiting on her and our other friend to come out.”

Then the other guard stepped toward the door and spoke up.

“So, you seriously walked her here on a leash?”

“Yes.”

Sensing the loaded suspicion in the guard’s tone, Weird Nikki immediately jumped to my defense.

“I’m not sure if you realize it, but you’re working at an arts institute. We all have the right to be as performative as we like.”

“Not if, um… Mr. Bramwell-Gates here is endangering someone as the girls described.”

“I assure you, those girls are full of shit,” she said, firing back. She then moved close to the guard and read his name tag.

“No one is in danger, Bob.”

“Hey, Weird Nikki. It’s cool. These guys are just doing their jobs.”

As I calmed down the situation, several girls walked past us and went inside the restroom.

Since she had moved to confront Bob, Weird Nikki was no longer blocking the door.

Not a breath later, I received another little soft tap on the heel.

I knew it pertained to the stream of girls that had just entered the restroom. Of course, I didn’t expect any trouble, but we hadn’t checked on Jammer and Hellie.

A bit of nervous energy flared in me. Bob noticed and doubled down.

“I hate doing this, but I need to speak with the girl and verify she’s okay—for the incident report.”

“Sure, but just to let you know, she’s not from here and doesn’t speak our language,” I stated, doing my best to temper expectations before his talk.

“AAAAH!”

A panicked scream from the restroom jolted me and ignited my fears.

Springing into action, Bob pushed the door askew. Suddenly, three girls rushed out.

I looked over at Weird Nikki, and she gave me a slight head tilt and rolled her eyes downward—a silent who knows what the eff happened.

Stopping the girls, Bob asked why they were panicking, and two replied in unison—something to the effect of, “It’s disgusting in there.”

Then they hurried off.

Weird Nikki took advantage of the distraction and yelled a soft warning to Jammer and Hellie inside the restroom.

“Are you two done yet? Some friendly security guards out here want to talk to Hellie.”

Unfortunately, her emphasis on friendly wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“Okay, wrapping up,” Jammer’s voice, tinged with a higher pitch than usual, echoed from inside the room.

After more than an uncomfortable few minutes, Jammer and Hellie emerged from the restroom.

Hellie’s leash was still attached, and Jammer was holding onto it.

I moved in and took it from her hand.

Excitedly, the security officer named Bob asked, “Miss, are you alright? Do you feel threatened or unsafe?”

Hellie stood with a blank look. Her gaze wandered between him and the rest of us standing around her.

“Oh, she doesn’t speak well. Did you tell them about your project?” Jammer comically volleyed to me.

“Didn’t have a chance to.”

The lead officer inquired, “Project?”

“Yeah, a social experiment mapping people’s reaction to Hellie’s decision to live as a dog and have me as her master.”

As we were talking, Hellie started to drift toward something that caught her attention.

I smiled big and clumsily, and then I tugged on Hellie’s chain several times to move her to my side.

The guards stood stunned, not knowing what to make of things.

“For real? Is Mr. Vaughn your professor? He can verify this?”

“Yup. Yup. And yup.”

“Okay. The girl looks fine. It seems like both your female friends are backing you. Sorry, Mr. Bramwell-Gates. Have a good day.”

“As I said, I understand. You’re just doing your job.”

The lead officer turned to leave, but Bob lingered a little longer, staring at us for a short time and then moving on. With the guards’ backs turned, neither Weird Nikki nor I missed the opportunity to flip the bird to the trio of run-tell-that.

“Alright, let’s get away from here.”

At Jammer’s somewhat pushy suggestion, we started walking toward the exit.

“So what was that all about?”

“Oh, that? Billy’s new everyday campus life until his project wraps.”

“I think you’re right, Weird Nikki. I’ll probably get hassled daily by the goon squad, possibly teachers. I guess I should try to pull some strings.”

“Are you tapping your ‘oji’ again to save you?”

“Come on, Weird Nikki. Uncle? I told you that we are not related. John—Mr. Shulenmeyers—was my guardian for a few years, a close friend of my mother’s. Anyway, I can get the staff and guards off my back with his sign-off.”

As we left the building, I told the girls my plan to walk Hellie and take her to the dean’s office.

I could tell by their body language that they were more than relieved.

Right before we parted, I asked Jammer, “So what the hell were those girls screaming at, and why were they running away?”

Jammer clenched her lips, making an ugly face, and replied, “I don’t want to talk about it.” And she didn’t. Weird Nikki rolled her eyes, and they walked off.

I guess whatever it was, Jammer handled it.

No matter.

Hellie looked happy.

I felt happy and had so much to rejoice about.

Shellie—my childhood nanny—and Nightshade—the best dog ever—were with me, both magically back from the dead as Hellie.

I aced my sociology presentation.

And I had magic—real magic—thanks to Rules of the Black Arts for Advanced Users.

Feeling carefree, Hellie and I walked to the nearest bench and sat down.

Well, I sat, and Hellie jumped up next to me and squatted. I just let it go.

It was a beautiful blue-sky day, and I just wanted us to soak it in a little.

We needed a breather together.

“Do you remember the campus? Shellie graduated from here.”

Hellie stared out into the distance with a mix of scrutiny and longing.

She rotated her head from side to side, as if… she had remembered, or at the very least, she had seen something interesting.

“What about Nightshade’s runs?”

Hellie jostled with a bit of excitement when she heard ‘runs.’

“Yeah, you like that. Nightshade loved our runs.”

Hearing the word “runs” again, Hellie kicked into overdrive.

She bolted off the bench into a sprint, pulling me behind her on the leash.

Her movement felt so familiar.

It transported me to times that mirrored my adventures with Nightshade.

We would sprint across the campus, darting up—then down—steps and leaping over shrubbery, always ending our journey in the commons field for a session of fetch. That’s exactly where Hellie and I found ourselves after our invigorating run.

Feeling nostalgic, I took off her leash.

She knew exactly what to do. Like Nightshade, she retrieved a perfect stick for our game.

The world blurred around us, and we played.

“Good girl. Drop it.”

“What’s he doing?”

And like that, I was back in the now.

Many students were packed in the commons field—most relaxing or studying and some with their pets. But the ones nearby had their eyes on us.

Hellie—not Nightshade—spat the stick into my hand.

I shrieked inside, really seeing her as she was—a girl dressed in 80s attire—joyously jumping and shuffling around me.

Now, fully aware of how our run-and-play session looked to everyone, I fumbled the stick to the ground.

Hellie bent down on all fours, eager for another toss, and nudged the stick with her nose.

Shifting excitedly, she stuck her butt up in the air, wiggling it.

Then I watched in fright as her miniskirt peeled down, revealing her white panties stamped with a fuchsia cartoon kitty.

My eyes darted across the people watching us, and a dumb expression betrayed my embarrassment.

I quickly reattached Hellie’s leash, and then we made a beeline for the dean’s office.