The Love Pug

by J. J. Howard

  “I’m wearing a scarf.”

  Dad’s eyes refocused on my outfit. “I meant a winter scarf. But,” he said with a small smile, “you do look lovely in your mother’s scarf. She’d be so pleased you’re wearing it.”

  His eyes brightened, and his voice quavered a bit.

  I felt Theo squeeze my hand once. Then he let go and called down as he ran back upstairs, “I’ll get a winter scarf for her, sir.”

  “He’s a good kid,” Dad said, and I realized he meant Theo, who was already clomping back downstairs holding a fluffy pink scarf.

  “He definitely is,” I agreed while Theo was still out of earshot.

  * * *

  By the time the Knights and I reached The Ravenous Ram, the Castillos were already seated at a big table in the back room. I saw that Mateo had brought someone—Annie! We both called each other’s name in delight.

  “I see it’s going well,” I said in Annie’s ear as she hugged me.

  “Yes!” she said. “Thanks to Cupid!”

  There was a fireplace in the back of the room, already burning with a cheerful fire, and the table was set with wineglasses for the grown-ups. I smiled. I loved going out for a nice dinner—not just for the food, but the whole atmosphere. Maybe someday I’d host dinner parties of my own. The one and only drawback to a fancy restaurant, as far as I was concerned, is that they’re almost never dog-friendly. I felt a pang of missing Cupid, even though I knew he was safe at home playing with his favorite squeaky toy.

  As I sat down, I looked across the table at Frankie, who looked very handsome in a white shirt and jacket. He grinned at me, and I felt my face turn pink. I pulled at my winter scarf, suddenly feeling way too hot to wear it a second longer, but managed to make it tighter somehow, and I made a strangled sound.

  Theo chuckled beside me, then reached over to untangle the scarf.

  “Thank you,” I said in a low voice. My face was even redder, I was sure, now that my best friend had needed to save me from my own scarf.

  I felt the silk scarf at my throat and realized the careful tie job I’d done in my room was now all messed up. But without my mom’s scarf, I would feel underdressed, since Mrs. Knight, Mrs. Castillo, and Annie were all wearing skirts or dresses. Even Theo was wearing the nice charcoal-colored sweater I’d gotten him for Christmas, with a white button-down shirt underneath.

  I excused myself to go to the restroom, even though we’d just arrived at the restaurant. Ignoring Theo’s questioning glance, I hurried off to the bathroom. Inside, facing the mirror, I pulled the twisted, and now wrinkled, scarf from my neck. I stared at my reflection for a few seconds, frowning. “Get it together, Emma.”

  “Are you okay?” Annie had walked into the restroom just in time to see me fighting with yet another scarf.

  “Yeah. I just … everything I’m wearing is wrong, and now I can’t figure out how to retie this stupid scarf.”

  Annie came closer, took the two ends of the scarf from my hands, and started adjusting it. “I don’t think this scarf is stupid. I think you look stylish in it.” She stepped back as she finished tying. “There, now you’re all put together again.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Annie.” I followed her back to the table and we sat down.

  I picked up the menu and began to read, although I pretty much knew everything on the Ram’s menu by heart by now. I always ordered the same thing: the wood-fire-grilled chicken, which was so tasty and also had the benefit of being Dad-approved, since there was nothing about it that he considered unhealthy. Although, I considered, tonight seemed like the perfect night to swap the steamed vegetables for mashed potatoes, since Dad wasn’t here to judge.

  “Ooh, bacon-wrapped scallops!” Frankie exclaimed, eyeing his menu. “What do you say, Emma?”

  Frankie was seated across from me, and he turned his wide smile on me.

  “Emma doesn’t eat bacon,” Theo said from behind his menu.

  “No bacon! That’s outrageous.” Frankie leaned forward. “You just don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “I have eaten bacon,” I told him. “But my dad is very serious about processed meats being bad for you, so I try to avoid it. But I’m sure one small bite of an appetizer would be okay.”

  “Besides, your dad’s not here.” Then Frankie actually winked at me again as though he were some hero in a movie or something.

  I couldn’t believe he didn’t feel awkward about how I’d reacted to him at my party.

  Still from behind his menu, Theo turned to me and rolled his eyes.

  I frowned at him and turned back to Frankie. “Do you know what you’re getting? Everything here is super good.”

  “Have you tried everything on the menu?” Frankie asked in surprise. “I mean, I guess you must have since there aren’t really any other restaurants in town.”

  I thought I saw Mrs. Castillo frown at Frankie’s comment, and I felt the urge to defend Highbury.

  “Actually, there are, and no, I haven’t really tried everything, I’ve just been here with people who have. I always get the same thing.”

  “I would have guessed you were a more adventurous eater,” Frankie replied.

  I put my menu down. Why did it feel like Frankie was criticizing me?

  “What do you always get, Emma?” Mr. Knight asked. It felt like he was trying to rescue me. “Maybe I’ll have that!”

  “The chicken,” I said. “I just know what I like. I’ll try any food once. Well, almost anything. I wouldn’t eat bugs, like Theo.”

  Frankie looked at Theo, who was laughing. “Just as a snack, not an entrée,” Theo said.

  “Insects and worms are a common snack in Thailand. We all tried them, but Theo actually liked the roasted crickets,” Mrs. Knight said.

  “He liked them so much he ordered a bunch online after they got back and tried to get me to eat them!” I exclaimed. “But I draw the line at eating any sort of insect.”

  “Yuck, that’s disgusting,” Frankie agreed. “I’m with you, Emma.”

  “Have you ever tried any?” Theo asked. He was sitting up in his seat and sort of staring down Frankie. But Frankie just laughed.

  “No, man, just the thought of it is too gross for me.”

  Just then our server arrived and everyone began ordering. I felt for a moment that I really should try something different, but I was the third to order, and I couldn’t pick something else fast enough, so I ordered my favorite chicken dish after all.

  Theo ordered probably the most interesting dish on the menu, a fish called branzino. Frankie ordered the fanciest, the lobster with steak.

  When the appetizer came, Frankie took two of the juicy bacon-wrapped scallops and put them on his plate before passing the platter across to me. “Try one, Emma?”

  “Don’t tell Dad,” I said to Theo, and popped one into my mouth. It was rich and savory and delicious.

  The rest of the meal passed by quickly as we all focused on eating. I ate every bite of my favorite meal, glad I hadn’t let Frankie sway me into changing my order.

  All through dinner, Frankie asked me about Cupid and the school events I’d planned. Annie partly talked to the adults, but then would listen in on us too. She caught my eye and shook her head with a smile. I shrugged back at her.

  At the end of the night, I said goodbye to Annie, Mateo, Frankie, and Frankie’s parents. Then I headed off with Theo and his parents since they were giving me a ride home. The Castillos were still waiting for the valet to bring their car as Mr. Knight pulled away. They waved to us as we drove past, and I thought I saw Frankie give me another one of his winks.

  When I got home, after plopping down on the floor to snuggle with Cupid—and then taking him for a short walk—I carried him upstairs. I stepped out of my shoes and carefully untied my mom’s scarf. Annie had done such a good job tying it—I hoped I’d be able to do it again the same way. It had made me feel closer to my mom, somehow, wearing something of hers.

  I sat down and opened up my jou
rnal. Lately I’d been thinking of my mom pretty often, but somehow whenever I tried to make sense of my thoughts about her and get them down on paper, I just froze.

  After staring at the blank page for a few minutes, I found myself writing about Frankie.

  I was afraid that Frankie would never talk to me again after my party.

  I stared at the words for a few seconds and then wrote another sentence:

  But now I’m starting to worry that … maybe … he still likes me.

  The next logical sentence to write would be about how I felt about Frankie Castillo. But I realized I couldn’t answer that question, so I closed my journal.

  So much for getting in some writing before bed. I realized one thing for sure. When less had been happening in my life, I’d been writing so much more!

  Now that the carnival was over, it was time to get cracking on plans for the Valentine’s Day dance. I headed to the library after school and found Ms. Bates wrestling with a very large picture book of Scotland. She had the protective cover either half on or half off—I couldn’t tell which—and was straining to get it the rest of the way.

  “Oh, hello, Emma.” She looked down at the book with a fierce scowl and then hurled it down onto the top of her messy desk. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the urge to tidy things up for her.

  “Hi, Ms. Bates. I was hoping we could lay out some of the early plans for the dance. If you’re not too busy?”

  “No, it’s been a quiet day, so I was trying to catch up on some things. But my heart’s not in any of it, I confess.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  She handed me a book from the top of her desk. It was a new hardcover without a catalog sticker or a clear library cover on it. “What’s this?” I asked.

  Ms. Bates flopped back into her chair. “Only the future I wanted,” she said, closing her eyes. “That book right there was just published. It was written by my college roommate, Laurel.”

  “Oh,” I said, sitting down in the chair across from her desk. “I see.” I knew Ms. Bates had always wanted to write a book. She mentioned it often.

  “We used to be writing partners—we would critique each other’s work. Now she’s done it! And what have I done?” Ms. Bates put her head in her hands. “I’m here in Nowheresville trying to protect a book of Scottish castles that no one’s checked out since 1998!”

  At her words, I felt a bit stung. I was protective of my town, and wondered if what she said had anything to do with my dad too. Things seemed to be going well between them—they were having dinner a few times a week, and Dad always came back smiling. But Dad loved Highbury. He was a part of “Nowheresville.”

  But maybe this wasn’t about my dad, or Highbury, or anything except how her old friend’s success was making her feel. I picked up her roommate’s book and quickly skimmed the back cover.

  “Ms. Bates, this is a very nice book and all, but it doesn’t really seem like your style. I mean, the main character is apparently a werewolf. I’m sure that when you finally write your great novel, it will be even better than this. Not a werewolf in sight.”

  Ms. Bates looked up at me and laughed. “Oh, Emma—thank you! I’m being silly, comparing myself to my friend. Everyone has their own path. And werewolves can be fun. I just need to get started. I do have an idea for a novel that I think might actually go somewhere.”

  “That’s the spirit!” I told her. “I’d love to write a whole book someday.”

  “Oh my goodness … that reminds me!” Ms. Bates cried, her eyes widening. “I can’t believe I forgot!”

  “Forgot what?” I asked as Ms. Bates began rummaging through the mess on her desk.

  “I opened the package with Laurel’s book and got sidetracked, but I have some very exciting news!” She searched around her desk until she found a large white envelope, which she then handed to me.

  The return address said SOCIETY OF LETTERS, which was apparently in New York City. The envelope was addressed to MS. EMMA WINTERS C/O MS. ABBY BATES, at the school’s address. I looked up at her, confused.

  “It’s for you,” Ms. Bates said excitedly. “Open it!”

  I took out the letter, unfolded it, and began to read.

  Dear Emma Winters,

  Congratulations! Your submission titled “Puppy Love” has been accepted as a finalist in this year’s Society of Letters Young Writers’ Contest. You and your sponsor, as well as one guest, are cordially invited to attend the awards ceremony on January 25, in New York City. The runner-up and winner will be announced, and prizes awarded at that time …

  “But I didn’t enter any contest …” I looked up at Ms. Bates, more confused than ever. “I don’t even know what this submission is. I didn’t write anything called that …”

  “Yes, you did,” she said. “Well, I added the title—it was required to have one to enter. It’s the essay you wrote for English last spring—the one Ms. Wilder had you read at that assembly?”

  Oh! Of course I knew the one she meant. I’d written an essay about Cupid, and how having a dog made my life with Dad feel a little more complete. It had only been slightly mortifying to read it in front of absolutely everyone.

  “Okay … but how did these Letters people get it?” I asked.

  “I sent it to them,” Ms. Bates explained. “I’m a member, and when I saw the Young Writers’ Contest in their magazine, I knew I should enter your essay.”

  I glanced down at the letter again, my heart racing. “I can’t believe I won. Well, that I’m a finalist.” I looked up at Ms. Bates in wonder. “So … when did you send in my essay?”

  Ms. Bates seemed to understand what I was trying to ask without asking—whether she’d entered my writing in the contest before or after she and my dad had started seeing each other. “Over the winter break,” Ms. Bates replied. “The deadline was January 1.”

  That was a relief—it meant she’d thought to submit me just as Regular-Student Emma, not Daughter of Her Maybe Boyfriend.

  “I can’t believe you thought of me,” I said, still processing everything, “and that you thought my writing might be good enough to enter.”

  Ms. Bates beamed. “Clearly I was right! Your piece was selected out of thousands of entries.”

  Impulsively, I jumped up and threw my arms around her. “Thank you, Ms. Bates!” I said. “For believing in me.”

  “Of course! I always have,” she added. “Hey, I’m supposed to meet your dad in a little while. What do you say we go tell him the news together?”

  * * *

  Ms. Bates gave me a ride home in her tiny yellow car, and on the short trip she told me about some great new books she’d just ordered for the library. I wrote down the titles of the two that sounded the most interesting in my list notebook.

  When we told him the news, Dad gave me a big hug. Then he smiled at Ms. Bates and thanked her for doing something so nice for me.

  “I’m so excited for you, Emma,” Dad said. “You’ll have to becareful in the city—it’s not like Highbury there. But you’ll be with Abby, and she knows her way around New York City. It’ll be nice … for the two of you to spend some time together.”

  Ms. Bates nodded. “I’m your sponsor, but it says in the letter you can also invite a guest of your choosing,” she told me.

  I knew who I should ask. “Dad?”

  Dad shook his head, looking regretful. “I have a seminar that evening with my advanced students that I can’t reschedule. Looks like you’ll need to decide who else you want to ask to go with you.” He didn’t have to say that I had a tough choice to make between Hallie and Theo.

  “Ask to go where?” Theo said as he walked in our kitchen door.

  I laughed. Fate—or Theo’s crack timing—had just decided for me.

  “Do you want to go to New York this Saturday?” I asked him.

  Theo’s eyes lit up. “Heck yeah!”

  I laughed at his enthusiasm. I was excited too, but also a little nervous. I’d only been to New Y
ork City once before, for a school field trip.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be awesome,” Theo said beside me, too quietly for Ms. Bates or Dad to hear. I smiled up at him. Clearly he’d noticed the hesitation on my face. And suddenly I felt very sure that he was right.

  Cupid pawed at my legs as though he were telling me that he wanted to go to New York too, and we all laughed.

  * * *

  Hallie squealed with joy when I told her the news about the contest the next day. She didn’t seem sad that I’d asked Theo to come along to New York City. In fact, I thought maybe she seemed just the tiniest bit relieved, since she said that she was really busy right now with her big art project.

  At lunch, when Frankie sat down with Theo, Hallie, and me, I told him all about the contest too.

  But he didn’t have much of a reaction, just shrugged with a half-hearted smile. “You and Theo both getting out of here and visiting a real city. That’s great.”

  Ugh, now Frankie was hating on Highbury again?

  He stood up. “I actually have to go get a book for history. Wanna come?” he asked me.

  “Hallie is still eating,” I said, gesturing to her. I didn’t want to abandon her.

  “Okay, cool. Later, then.”

  I frowned as he stalked off.

  “I wonder why he’s annoyed about your going to New York,” Hallie mused.

  “Yeah,” I murmured. “What’s up with that?”

  Hallie turned to look at me carefully.

  “Do you like him?” she asked bluntly. Theo didn’t look up, but I could tell he was listening hard.

  “I don’t think so?” I answered truthfully, and Hallie laughed.

  “He just really seems to like you,” she said.

  “Well …” I chewed my lip. “He did sort of tell me that after my birthday party.”

  “What? Told you he liked you?” Hallie exclaimed so loudly that people from the next table turned to look. “How am I just hearing about this now?”

  “I don’t know … I guess I was just sort of … embarrassed, or something.”