Boys Are Dogs (14 page)

Finally, I managed to jump over an empty bench and corner him at the snack machine. Out of breath, his eyes darted around in search of an escape. He held my report behind his back. With his body pressed up against the wall, there wasn’t room to reach around and grab it.

“Dude, what’s up?” asked Tobias, who’d just strolled up behind me with a half eaten donut in his hand.

“Don’t know. This chick is chasing me,” said Erik.

No one had ever called me a chick before and I didn’t like it. A chick is a baby chicken—cute and fluffy but totally helpless. Erik had basically called me a baby.

“I’m not chasing you. I’m chasing my book report. Give it back.” I didn’t ask him. I told him. My tone was strong and commanding, but for once it didn’t do me any good. Maybe because I was facing two dominant dogs.

“SPAZ!” Erik yelled in my face and spittle landed on my cheek. Nasty! As I wiped it away he darted around the table. I tried running after him, but Tobias grabbed my backpack, which was still attached to my back. So I didn’t get very far. But neither did Erik, because I snagged his T-shirt.

“Hey, let me go,” he yelled.

But I wouldn’t. “I need that.” I lunged for the pages with my free hand.

He held it just out of reach. “You’re stretching out my shirt.”

“You’re messing up my report.”

“Okay, fine, fine. If you let go of me I’ll give you your stupid homework.”

“It’s not stupid,” I said, relaxing my hold.

Tobias let go of my bag.

Erik held out my book report, but as soon as I reached for it, he tossed it to Tobias.

Except he missed, so my report landed on the ground. When I bent down to get it, Tobias did, too and we bumped heads.

“Ow!” I yelled, clutching my forehead. He’d really clocked me. My whole head throbbed.

Worse, Tobias recovered first and grabbed my report.

He took off with it and I chased after him. Twice, I grazed the pages with my fingertips, but couldn’t get close enough to grab it.

Erik waved his hands. “Over here.”

Tobias tossed my report like a Frisbee. The pages flapped in the breeze. Erik caught it and tucked it under his arm. It was hopeless. They were actually laughing. This was fun for them.

What if they destroyed my report like Pepper had destroyed Buttons?

Suddenly it hit me.

I stopped in my tracks.

Erik kept running. He turned the corner at the end of the locker banks and disappeared.

As hard as it was, I let him go.

Instead of following him, I headed straight for the bench where I’d been sitting when my report was stolen.

I sat down and waited, hoping they’d lose interest, because chasing them wasn’t working and I didn’t know what else to do.

Except blink hard to keep my tears from falling.

And try not to think about how awful everything was right now.

Or about how this never would’ve happened at St. Catherine’s.

The first bell rang. I stayed where I was for a minute, but with no sign of Erik or Tobias, I figured I should head to class. Better to show up empty-handed than empty-handed and late. I still had everything saved on my computer at home. Maybe Mr. Beller would let me turn it in on Monday. Probably not, though. He’d been warning us about his “no excuses, no extensions” policy all week.

The worst part about this mess was that when I showed up without my report, Mr. Beller wouldn’t even be surprised. He already thought I was trouble—and all for reasons that weren’t my fault. I didn’t even know how to get him to change his mind. I’d never had to deal with a teacher not liking me. Teachers
always
liked me. At least they used to.

I circled the building a few times, trying to come up with a decent excuse.

I didn’t know the report was due today.

I left it at home.

My dog ate it.

Nothing seemed good enough. I was out of ideas, and the final bell was about to ring, so I walked into the room.

Everyone else had their reports out on their desks and ready to hand in. Even Tobias.

I tried to ignore him, but as soon as I sat down, he kicked me.

Oh, great. That again. “Stop it,” I whispered.

He didn’t.

It was like the past two weeks had never happened. He kept on kicking. I was out of chocolate, and too upset to scold him.

Then another passage from the book flashed to mind.

Did that mean I’d have to go through this nearly every single day for the rest of my life? Or was it just Tobias with the short-term memory? What about the rest of the boys? It was all so much work.

Tobias kicked me harder so I whipped my head around and shot him a dirty look. His glasses were on crooked but I didn’t bother telling him. “Cut it out,” I said.

“You’re no fun, Spaz,” he replied, and handed over my book report.

I grabbed it, turned around, and flipped through the wrinkled pages. It smelled like the cafeteria. I cringed at the ketchup stain on the back cover. Page four had a tear down the middle, but if you lined up the two pieces, you could still read everything. I raised my hand and asked Mr. Beller for some tape. He gave me a suspicious look, but still motioned for me to come up to his desk and then pushed the tape dispenser toward me.

“Thank you,” I said, taking two pieces back to my desk. I stuck the pages back together. It wasn’t pretty, but at least it was readable.

I sat back, marveling over how the dog/boy training book had worked for me, yet again.

Then something occurred to me. If Tobias were an actual dog, I’d have said, “Good boy,” and patted him on his head. So, taking a deep breath, I turned around and put on my best fake smile. “Thank you so much, Tobias. It was so sweet of you to bring it back.”

“Whatever,” Tobias grumbled.

“And please thank Erik for me, too.”

It wasn’t easy, thanking the boys for giving me back what was rightfully mine. But I always gave Pepper positive reinforcement.

Hmm. Maybe if I got Jackson a really delicious chew toy, he’d leave me alone.

chapter fourteen
jackson strikes again

O
n Friday night, the doorbell rang, which always drives Pepper crazy. It’s like there’s some invisible wire connecting the button to his brain, or maybe it’s just the sound. He hears it and goes nuts, running straight for the front of the house, barking his head off and jumping up and down in front of the door like there’s a lifetime supply of dog biscuits on the other side of it. Or maybe he’s trying to push the entire thing open himself, with some combination of his front paws and the sheer weight of his excitement. I guess the concepts of locks and doorknobs are pretty much beyond his grasp.

“I’ll get it,” I yelled, running downstairs.

Mom sat in the living room, grading papers. Dweeble was on the floor, waxing his skis. Big shocker—they were gigantic and fluorescent yellow.

“The little guy is turning into quite the guard dog,” said Mom.

I had to laugh. “Some guard dog. If anyone tries to break in, he’ll lick them to death.”

“Well at least he can protect us against burglars who are allergic to dogs,” Dweeble added.

“Hey, that’s funny,” I said, as I headed to the entryway.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Dweeble replied.

I used one hand to hold Pepper’s collar and the other to open up the door.

Mia and Sophia stood on the front step, sleeping bags tucked under their arms and backpacks strapped to their backs.

“You’re here!” I yelled.

Sure, it had only been a few weeks since we said good-bye after camp, but it seemed like months. And going by the way they screamed, “Annabelle!” I’m pretty sure they felt the same way.

“Come in,” I said.

Once the door was safely shut, I let go of the dog and hugged them.

Pepper jumped and almost knocked over Sophia, but she didn’t mind. “He’s the cutest!” She bent down so Pepper could lick her face.

“Oh, but his breath stinks,” she added, scrunching up her nose.

It wasn’t something I could really argue with, but it seemed weird to bring it up first thing. Of course, that was Sophia.

“He’s adorable, Annabelle. I want a dog,” Mia cooed.

“You already have a turtle and a gerbil,” said Sophia. “If anyone gets a new pet, it should be me.”

“The turtle is my sister’s and he’s pretty boring,” said Mia.

I took them upstairs so they could drop their stuff off in my room. Pepper ran ahead. When he got to the top of the steps, he turned around and ran back down, I guess to make sure we were still coming. Sophia almost tripped over him, but I grabbed her arm and steadied her at the last second.

Once we were in my room, Mia looked around. “This place is huge,” she said.

“My cousins’ house is bigger, and they have a pool,” Sophia said. She headed to my window and looked out. “You do have a nice view of the street, though.”

“Hi, girls.” My mom came in, asking, “Has Annabelle offered to give you the grand tour yet?”

“We’re too busy,” I told her. House tours were boring and I’m surprised my mom didn’t know any better.

“Well, make yourselves at home,” she said.

“Do you have any Pop Tarts?” asked Sophia.

Mom seemed confused. “Ah, no. I don’t think so.”

“Well, how can I make myself at home if there aren’t any Pop Tarts? We always have Pop Tarts at my house.” Sophia has a weird sense of humor. The kind that isn’t always funny. (But at least she’d finally stopped telling knock-knock jokes.)

We all knew to ignore her. Even my mom, who said, “Okay, then. I’ll leave you girls alone, now.”

As she ducked out of my room, Mia asked, “Can we take your dog for a walk?”

“Sure,” I said, and we headed back downstairs for Pepper’s leash.

Once we got outside, Sophia said, “Let me hold him, okay?”

Mia and I looked at each other and smiled. This was typical Sophia, always wanting to be in charge.

“He’s kind of wild,” I said. “I should start out, but you can hold the leash later on.”

She opened her mouth to argue but then changed her mind, and looked at her nails, instead. They were painted purple, and so were Mia’s.

Mia and Sophia did stuff like that all the time— painting their nails the same color and wearing their hair in matching styles. Sometimes they even dressed alike, which was funny because they looked and acted like opposites. They both have long dark hair, but Sophia is short and chubby, with big blue eyes and lots of freckles. And Mia is skinny, with brown eyes and no freckles. She towers over both of us, but she’s so quiet, I usually forget she’s so tall.

Anyway, today I noticed it wasn’t just their nails that matched. They also wore identical cowboy boots. They were tan, with a pink embroidered flower on the pointy toe. “When did you get those?” I asked.

“My mom took us to the mall last Sunday,” said Mia.

“I thought your mom’s car was in the shop,” I said.

“It was. She got it out that morning.”

“Oh.”

“I asked her to take us to your house, but she said it was too far,” said Mia.

“But at least we’re here now,” Sophia added.

This was true. And anyway, I never wanted to dress alike the way they did, especially since we’d had to wear uniforms at school every day. Sophia and Mia knew this, but they usually asked me if I wanted to get their same shoes and clothes or whatever. It seemed strange that they didn’t ask this time, but I guess that’s what I get for moving away. Not that it was my choice or anything.