Boys Are Dogs (15 page)

As we walked to the end of the cul-de-sac, Mia’s and Sophia’s boots click-clacked along the sidewalk. Even their steps matched, a constant reminder that I was no longer a part of their regular life. I tried not to think about it.

Once we were off my street, I showed them all of Pepper’s new tricks. He sat when I told him to sit. He raised his paw when I told him to shake. He walked by my side when I told him to heel. Well, except for when he tried to chase after a squirrel.

Once I got him to calm down, Sophia asked, “Can I hold Pepper now?”

“Sure.” I handed over the leash, and showed her how to put it on properly. “Make sure your wrist goes through the loop, and hold the leash in the palm of your hand. If you hold it with your fingers, you might break one.”

“Okay,” said Sophia.

“And make sure you don’t let go. He gets really hyper when cars goes by. I’m trying to train him not to chase them, but so far, it hasn’t worked.”

“I’ll be careful,” Sophia promised.

“Oh, and try to steer clear of garbage cans. He loves eating trash. Last Wednesday I wasn’t paying attention and he knocked one over and tried to eat a moldy piece of pizza. It’s not easy prying stuff from his mouth.”

“Okay, already.” Sophia started walking forward but Pepper stopped in his tracks and looked up at me with his adorable big eyes.

I bent over and gave him a quick scratch behind his ears. “It’s okay,” I told him. “Just be good.”

“You talk to him?” Mia asked.

I shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“So what’s your new school like?” asked Mia. “Do you like it?”

“It’s okay,” I said. This wasn’t a total lie. Birch-wood was great when I hung out with Rachel and her friends, and terrible when I got stuck with boys like Tobias and Erik. Add those different experiences together and divide, and you come up with okay. (Jackson brought the average way down, but since I’d successfully avoided him since the locker incident, I didn’t factor him into the equation.)

Of course, Birchwood was the last thing I wanted to think about, so I changed the subject. “What’s happening at St. Catherine’s?”

“Not much.” Mia shrugged.

“Half of the fifth graders went home yesterday with head lice,” said Sophia. “And there’s a new sixth grade math teacher.”

“She’s nice, but she gives too much homework,” said Mia.

“It was Sara’s birthday yesterday and she brought in donuts with rainbow sprinkles,” said Sophia. “I told her chocolate would’ve been better, and she acted all offended. I don’t know why. I just thought it would be a good tip, you know, for next year.”

It was getting dark, so we turned around and headed back. As soon as we got to my street, I noticed that Rachel and Jackson’s garage door was open. I could hear someone moving around inside. Fearing the worst, I stopped short.

“Hey, guys? Let’s cross the street now.” I tried to sound casual about it, but clearly my voice sounded funny. My friends glanced at me like they knew something was up.

“What’s the hurry?” asked Sophia.

“Um, my friend Rachel is allergic,” I said, pointing to her house. “And I don’t want her having an attack.” I felt bad for making up fake excuses (even though it was based on the truth), but the real reason I was avoiding the house seemed too embarrassing to explain. How could I tell my friends I was nervous around some dumb boy? And I didn’t even know if Jackson was in there. It could’ve been anyone— Rachel, their mom, the exterminator—which meant that basically I was afraid of the
possibility
of a boy. You can’t get much more pathetic than that.

“So Pepper can’t even walk on her sidewalk?” asked Sophia. “You know that’s public property. She can’t make you stay away.”

“She doesn’t make me. It’s just—”

“Hey, Spazabelle!” Jackson yelled.

Uh-oh.

Jackson walked out of the garage and stood in the middle of his driveway, with his skateboard tucked under his arm.

Mia gasped and grabbed my arm. “Who’s that cute boy?” she whispered.

“Ew! No one.” I jumped off the sidewalk and headed across the street, getting as far away from him as possible. “Let’s go,” I said, motioning to my friends.

They followed me until Jackson called, “Whatcha doin’, Spaz?”

Then Sophia stopped in her tracks and glanced over her shoulder. “What did he call you?”

“Nothing.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her away. “Come on!”

“It’s the Spazerator. Walking her dumb dog,” he called.

“But who is he?” she asked.

“He’s just my friend Rachel’s older brother. He’s kind of a jerk.”

“You go to school with him?” asked Mia.

“Unfortunately.”

“But what did he just call you?” asked Sophia.

“Will you please drop it?” I walked inside and trudged up to my room.

“He’s cute,” said Mia.

“You already said that.”

“Super-cute,” Sophia said, and they both giggled.

Jackson makes fun of me in front of my friends, and they think he’s cute? Ouch. “He’s really annoying.”

“You can be cute and annoying at the same time,” said Sophia.

“But Jackson’s so annoying, it cancels out his cuteness,” I insisted. “Believe me. I’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Okay, fine. But he’s just one boy. What about the rest of them? You must like someone,” said Sophia.

Just thinking about the Birchwood boys, and Jackson especially, made me feel sick to my stomach. “Will you stop asking me that.”

“Well, you don’t have to get mad,” said Sophia.

“I can’t help it,” I said, fuming now. “You won’t leave me alone and you just don’t get it. Going to school with boys isn’t what you think it is. It’s not like in the movies, where they’re all sweet, texting girls and buying them flowers and opening doors and stuff.”

“You don’t have to yell,” said Sophia.

“I’m not yelling,” I yelled.

We both looked at Mia, who shrugged. This could have meant, “I don’t know,” or, “I’m not taking sides.”

Neither answer would’ve helped. I took a deep breath and turned back to Sophia. “I’m just trying to explain.”

“Well, then explain. What’s it like?” asked Sophia.

“Remember the camp dance? Boys are like that, but a hundred times worse. It’s like going to school with a bunch of wild dogs.”

Mia and Sophia looked at each other and cracked up.

“Seriously, you guys.”

The more I insisted, the harder they laughed. There wasn’t any way to get them to understand. Mia and Sophia looked like my best friends and sounded like my best friends, but something had changed between us. And whatever it was, I didn’t like it. Usually our sleepovers flew by. Now it was only eight o’clock and we’d already run out of things to talk about.

“I miss St. Catherine’s,” I said, once they finally calmed down. “I wish I could go back.”

“Me, too,” said Mia. “We really miss you.”

Sophia seemed confused. “Don’t get me wrong. I wish you could come back, too. But I don’t get why you’d want to. You live in this really cool house, and you have a dog, and St. Catherine’s is so boring.”

I opened my mouth, all set to try and explain, but there wasn’t any way to make her understand. St. Catherine’s didn’t seem boring to me. But even if that were the case, I’d have preferred boring to the torture-inducing experience known as Birchwood Middle School.

chapter fifteen
dweeble takes flight

D
weeble made us waffles and hot cocoa in the morning, before Mia and Sophia got picked up.

Then he spent the rest of the day packing. He was flying to Switzerland that night, and boy, were his arms going to be tired. Yeah, he actually made that joke. Even worse, since no one laughed the first time, he tried it again an hour later. Mom giggled on try number two, probably because she felt sorry for him.

I could’ve told him that joke wasn’t ever going to be funny, but decided not to. It wasn’t Dweeble’s fault he was humor-challenged. And at least he tried. I guess I was feeling pretty generous, since he’d be gone for an entire week. I even hugged him good-bye.

“Do you want anything from Switzerland?” he asked.

“Um, maybe some more of that chocolate?”

Dweeble grinned. “I noticed that went quickly.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be. It was there to be eaten. Here’s the thing, though.” Dweeble winked at my mom. “I can get the chocolate here, which makes me think, maybe I don’t really need to go.”

I could tell this was another one of his bad jokes, but the thought still scared me.

“Your bags are already in the car, so you may as well,” Mom said, linking her arm through his and dragging him to the door. “Plus, Jason is expecting you.”

“Yes, those are excellent points. And I can see you both want to get rid of me.” Dweeble waved goodbye. “I’ll see you next week, Annabelle.”

“Bye. Have fun. Tell Jason I say hello.”

I worried that was a weird thing to say, since Jason and I didn’t even know each other, but Dweeble grinned and said, “I will.” So maybe it wasn’t so wrong.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the airport with us?” asked my mom.

Like I wanted to witness their sappy good-bye? I don’t think so. “No, thanks.”

“I’ll be home in two hours, max. Hopefully sooner.” Mom seemed nervous about leaving me in the house alone. Did I need to remind her that I was already eleven years old?

“I’ll be fine,” I told her.

As their car pulled out of the driveway, I had to smile. With Dweeble in Switzerland, it meant I’d have seven whole days free of corny jokes. There wouldn’t be any waiting for Dweeble to go running before we could eat dinner. Nor would I have to put up with his lousy music.

Once they were gone, I tried calling Rachel. When Jackson answered, I panicked and hung up, fast.

Then I went up to my room because I promised to clean it before my mom got back. Pepper came too. I brought one of his chew toys with me, so he wouldn’t try eating any of my stuff.

But before I even finished making my bed, the phone rang.

I ran to my desk and picked it up. “Hello?”

“Who’s this?” asked a familiar-sounding boy’s voice.

I replied without thinking. “Annabelle. Who’s this?”

Instead of answering me he asked, “Why are you crank calling our house, Spazabelle?”

Jackson! Ack! How did he know? And what do I do? Could I hang up? I couldn’t just hang up. I had to say something. But what?

I coughed. “I’m not. I didn’t. Um, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about caller ID. We have it. And you just cranked us. So what gives?”

Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I wished this wasn’t happening. I had to say something. I could hear him breathing on the other end of the line. “Is Rachel there?”

“Maybe.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“She’s going to be mad when she hears you called and hung up.”

“I didn’t mean to do it.”

“You’re saying you
accidentally
hung up on me?”

Okay, time to switch tactics. “Was that you on the phone?” I asked innocently. “I thought I dialed wrong so I hung up.”

He didn’t say anything, which tripped me up even more.

“Um, the phone must’ve slipped, I think.”

“You think?” he spat out.

I cringed. I was making things worse. I knew I was but I couldn’t help myself. Talking to Jackson got me all flustered. I wasn’t prepared for this. And I couldn’t be, either. It’s not like Pepper talked on the phone. No dog-training lessons applied. I was on my own here.

On my own and floundering.

“Why do you want to talk to my dumb sister, anyway?” He sounded so nasty. Sinister, even—like a cartoon villain.

“Just put her on the phone, please.”

“So you agree that my sister is dumb?”

“Wait. What? No, I never said that.”

“Hey, Rachel,” Jackson yelled. “Annabelle just called you dumb.”

Sure, now he calls me by my real name. “Cut it out,” I yelled. My hand gripped the phone tighter. “You know I never said that. Tell Rachel I never said that.”

“Geez, will you chill? She’s not even home.”

He hung up on me.

I sat there for a few moments, with the dial tone ringing in my ear. What if Jackson told Rachel I’d crank called their house? What if he told her I said she was dumb?

I wondered if I should go wait for her outside so I could explain the whole thing before Jackson got the chance to. But how could I explain? The truth was too embarrassing. Anyway, who knew when she’d be home? Maybe Jackson was lying anyway and she was home and they were both laughing at me this very second. Okay, I didn’t think Rachel would actually laugh at me, but she’d have to think I was a little weird for calling and hanging up.

I didn’t know what to do. But sitting in my room was making me worry like crazy, so I took Pepper for a walk. As soon as we made it to the sidewalk, I feared Jackson might come outside, so I ran past his house. The good news: he didn’t. The bad news: running away made me feel like a big, fat wimp.

By the time I got home, my mom was back.

“Hi,” I called.

“Oh, there you are,” she said, as she walked into the entryway, all smiley.

“Are you that excited that your boyfriend is leaving the country?” I meant for it to be a joke, but it came out sounding kind of mean, so I added, “I’m kidding.”