Girls Just Wanna Have Pugs
Page 3
“Now … cookie time!” Taz added, and the three of us cracked up.
“Okay, okay,” I said, and led the way out of my room. Micki was still holed up in hers watching the movie, but I knew she’d emerge as soon as she heard the sounds of baking from the kitchen.
I got out the cookie mix and Taz found the baking sheet while Lucy took out the measuring cups. I measured everything carefully, making sure to clean up as I went along. Mom hates germs and messes. If she came home and the kitchen wasn’t clean—even in the middle of cookie making—she would not be happy.
As predicted, Micki rushed eagerly into the kitchen just as I was putting on my oven mitts.
“Yay, cookies!” she cried.
She watched as I carefully opened the oven door and even more carefully slid the baking sheet inside. It was only recently that Mom had decided to let us bake cookies without her supervision, and that was only after, like, one hundred practice sessions and lectures about oven safety. Micki still wasn’t allowed near the oven unless I was there.
“I had a thought,” Lucy said as I set the timer. “Before Four Paws can get up and running, how are people in the Burgundy going to find out we exist?”
“Right,” I said, snapping my fingers. I knew I’d forgotten something. “I was thinking we could put up flyers in the laundry rooms announcing the new business.” The Burgundy had a small laundry room on each floor.
“A flyer would be awesome,” Lucy said. She and I both looked expectantly at Taz.
“Of course I can make the flyer!” Taz said, throwing her hands up. “I’ll even design a logo, if you want.”
“Thank you, Director of Design and Technology!” I said, giving Taz a hug.
“What are you guys talking about?” Micki asked.
“We’re starting a business,” Lucy told her.
“Can I be in it?”
“Maybe when you’re a little bit older,” I said.
“Ugh, that’s literally always the answer to everything,” Micki complained.
“Sorry,” I said. I knew our parents wouldn’t let Micki join in the dog-walking business yet. Besides, she didn’t even like dogs that much.
The timer dinged and I pulled the cookies out of the oven. They looked perfect. But that wasn’t a surprise; I’d followed the recipe perfectly. When Lucy made cookies she often added extra things to them, which sometimes tasted good, but also sometimes messed things up. I’d eaten more than one partially raw experimental cookie at my best friend’s house. I guess how you make cookies probably says a lot about you as a person.
Using Mom’s favorite spatula, I carefully transferred the cookies to a plate and let them cool, and then everybody dug in. Micki scarfed down two cookies in practically one bite, then returned to her room to finish the movie.
I looked happily at my friends, who were still savoring their treats. The cookies were a well-deserved reward for our first successful Four Paws meeting. I couldn’t wait to start walking those doggos!
I remembered one more thing I needed to bring up with Lucy. “We need to do your training,” I told her. “So I can show you the ropes?”
“Oh, yeah,” Lucy said, her mouth full of cookie. “I have zero experience with dog walking,” she explained to Taz.
“What if we asked Sarah if we could take Meatball out tomorrow?” I said to Lucy. “Get you started in the biz?”
“Sure,” Lucy said. “Just text me.”
“I can’t be there,” Taz said. “I have a Fashion Club meeting tomorrow and, you know, I also have a flyer to design,” she added mischievously.
“That’s no problem,” I said. “With my help, Lucy will be an expert dog walker in no time.”
“Wait, you want me to do what? With that?”
Lucy stared down at the grass in horror. I tried to stifle a giggle.
Sarah Thompson had been more than happy to loan us Meatball for a long walk on Sunday afternoon. As soon as we’d stepped out of the Burgundy, I’d handed Meatball’s leash over to Lucy, who took it gingerly. I showed Lucy how to hold the leash a little more firmly and guide Meatball along. Everything had been going well, until we reached a patch of grass where Meatball had stopped to do his business. Now Meatball was done, but Lucy was frozen in fear, holding Meatball’s leash in one hand while I tried to hand her a little plastic bag.
“Luce, you know you have to pick up the doggie poop as part of the job,” I explained. “It’s kind of rule number one. It’s also literally the law.”
“But he’s not my dog … I mean it’s just sooo gross.”
Meatball barked up at Lucy, as if to say, Who’s gross? Not me!
This time a giggle did escape me. “Yeah, but the owner’s not here,” I pointed out to Lucy. “You’re filling in. That’s the whole point. It’s not like we can just plant a flag, and Sarah or Dan can come by to scoop the poop later.”
Lucy’s eyes flew up to meet mine. “That sounds like a great idea!”
I laughed, and then Lucy was laughing, too. “I know I’m being ridiculous. I’ve just never had to … touch dog poop before,” she said. “Sorry, Meatball,” she added.
Meatball barked again, sounding a little less huffy this time.
It wasn’t that Lucy didn’t like dogs; she just didn’t have any experience with them. And in general, Lucy wasn’t really used to cleaning up anything. Lucy’s mom never made her do any sort of real chores. So I knew all of this was kind of a big step for Lucy.
“I understand,” I told her. “And you don’t actually have to touch it. See, the bag is covering your hand the whole time. After you pick it up you turn the bag inside out like this.” I showed her by using the bag to pick up a little bundle of weeds. Then I emptied out the weeds and handed the bag to her. “Now try,” I urged her. I really needed Lucy to get over this stumbling block today. If we wanted to launch Four Paws successfully, we couldn’t have one of our dog walkers be unable to pick up dog poop.
“But what if there’s a hole in the bag?” Lucy asked worriedly.
“There won’t be a hole.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive,” I lied. I mean, how could I know that? But it’s just one of those things where you hope for the best.
Lucy put her hand inside the doggie bag. She closed her eyes and felt around in the grass, then gave up, opened her eyes, and scooped the poop.
“Great!” I said. “Now turn it inside out … good … tie the knot—you did it!”
Looking up at me with a smile, Lucy held the bag out like she wanted me to take it. “What do we do with it now?”
“You carry it. Until we find a trash can to toss it in.”
Lucy held the bag away from her as we walked, but while she was so focused on staying far away from the poop bag, she let go of Meatball’s leash, and he began trotting away from us.
“Oh no, Meatball!” I yelled, running up and bending over to catch his leash. “Whew.” I stopped, gripping the end of his leash tightly and letting out a relieved breath.
“Oh, Kat—I’m sorry!” Lucy called. “I was just … I don’t know what happened.”
“Okay, amendment. Using the poop bag is now rule number two. Rule number one is absolutely this: Don’t ever let go of the leash.”
Lucy was staring at me with a strange expression on her face, and then she started laughing hysterically. Her face was even turning pink.
“Honestly, Luce, I don’t think Meatball running away from us is funny …”
“It’s … it’s not that!” she gasped. “It’s what … you said! Rule … number two! Get it?”
At the exact moment that I got it I started laughing, too. “Crap, I didn’t mean that,” I said, and then we both started laughing harder. We laughed all the way to the nearest garbage can, with a very confused Meatball looking up at me like, What’s with you? I swear, he would look at me sometimes, and I just knew what my furry little friend wanted to say. I kept a tight hold on his leash the rest of the way home.
“How’d I do?” Lucy asked me when we reached the Burgundy.
“Pretty well!” I told her. “You might need a little more practice, but I think you’re ready to become an official dog walker.”
“I hope so,” Lucy said, leaning down to scratch Meatball’s ears while his tail wagged happily. “If only all dogs were as easy as Meatball. Thanks for being patient with me,” she told him.
“It’s true. Meatball is the best,” I said with a sigh. I was a little sad to have to return him to Sarah and Dan, but soon enough, I knew, I’d be getting in more time with other dogs, even if they couldn’t all be Meatball.
“Ta-da!” Taz announced on Monday morning, stopping at my locker after homeroom. She held in her hand the first Four Paws flyer. The logo on top was a number four with a drawing of a puppy paw behind it. The flyer read:
Introducing Four Paws Dog-Walking Agency!
For all your dog-walking needs, right here in the Burgundy!
Taz had drawn the flyer in shades of black and dark green, which were the colors of the Burgundy’s awning. It was really simple but eye-catching. It was so Taz to come up with just the right image on her first try.
“I love it!” I said.
“I’m glad,” Taz said, admiring her handiwork. “It is really cool. We could even get T-shirts made with our logo. Or maybe hats. I look good in a hat.”
“Of course you do,” I said, and rolled my eyes as Taz laughed. “What’s this bar code thing here?” I pointed to the bottom of the flyer.
“You scan it with your phone—I still need to add that direction on the flyer. It takes you to the app I set up. It’s for scheduling,” she explained. “Once a client joins, they can request a walk, a time, even a specific walker. They can also specify if it’s a short walk or an exercise walk, and pay right there.”
“Seriously? Taz, you’re amazing!”
“I know. So where’s Lucy? I wanted to show her the flyer, too.”
“I haven’t seen her yet,” I said.
Meanwhile, I was looking all around for Declan, the new boy I’d met on Friday. I hadn’t seen him in the Burgundy all weekend, although I’d definitely been keeping my eyes peeled.
“Who are you looking for?” Taz asked. Trust Taz to not miss anything. My eyes swiveled back to her. Probably with a guilty expression in them. I hadn’t actually found a chance to mention Declan to either of my best friends.
“There’s a new boy in our grade,” I said. “He lives in the Burgundy. I met him on Friday.”
Taz perked up. “That’s exciting. We haven’t gotten a new kid in a while. How come you didn’t tell us?”
“Well, I’ve been distracted launching our brand-new business.”
“Hmm,” Taz said, as though she didn’t quite believe me. “He’s in our grade, and lives in our building, and you didn’t mention it?”
I decided to try to ignore her suspicion. “His name is Declan Ward,” I said.
“Is he Irish? I think Declan is an Irish name.”
“His dad is—accent and everything.”
Taz’s eyes widened. “You met his dad, too?”
“Just for a minute.”
“Something’s up with you, Cabot. You’re not usually this cagey.”
“Nothing is up!” I said, but my voice came out screechy.
Lucy appeared beside us. “What’d I miss?”
“Kat here met a boy on Friday and didn’t tell either of us about it. Unless she told you.”
Lucy glanced at me. “What? Nope—she didn’t tell me anything. Kat, you mean you already met the new kid?”
“What new kid?” asked a lower voice from behind me. I jumped and let out a little shriek.
Taz and Lucy started laughing. I turned to see that, of course, Declan was standing behind me.
“We met in Drama Club this morning,” Lucy said, looking smug. “Declan here just told me that he met you on Friday,” she added.
Declan was in Drama Club? “I, um, I must have forgotten …” I began.
Declan put a hand in front of his heart and made a noise like I’d shot an arrow into it. “Oof. I must have made a real big impression.”
I was definitely blushing. “No, I mean—you did, I just …”
Declan’s eyes were sparkling.
“Taz, this is Declan,” Lucy was saying. “He’s in our grade. And he lives in the Burgundy. But I guess Kat told you that. Just now,” she added with a smirk.
Why oh why were my friends torturing me like this?
I felt my face turn even redder. “I’m sorry, Declan,” I said. “It’s just, right after I met you, I had the most amazing idea. It came from something that your dad said, actually. About your needing help walking Sparky.”
“Is Sparky your dog?” Lucy asked.
Declan nodded. “A puppy, actually. I just got her. She’s a pug.”
“Kat’s favorite,” Taz threw in.
“What was your idea?” Declan asked me.
“I’m—we’re—starting a dog-walking business! At the Burgundy.” I showed Declan Taz’s flyer.
Declan’s eyes widened. “Whoa. That’s a great idea. My dad will be excited. When I go to my mom’s I can’t take Sparky since Mom’s allergic.”
“Oh, do you live with her half-time?” I asked.
Lucy gave me a look like maybe I was being too nosy asking that, but it was too late since I’d already asked. Also, I really wanted to know.
“No, just for one weekend a month. She lives in Philadelphia.”
“Ah. Philly’s cool,” I added, not really sure what to say. Even though my parents were together, I knew how hard it was to be away from one parent a lot, because my dad traveled basically all the time.
“Not as cool as New York,” Declan said, and I knew right then and there that in addition to being cute he was also 100 percent awesome.
The bell rang. Taz and Lucy had social studies together, and it turned out Declan and I were in the same English class. We walked there together.
“Come on,” I told Declan. “I’ll introduce you to Ms. Levine. She’s really nice.” I led Declan over to our teacher and said, “Ms. L, this is Declan—he’s new.”
Ms. Levine looked up from her computer. “Oh, hi! I got an email about a new student.” She half stood out of her chair and shook Declan’s hand. “Welcome. You can sit anywhere—there aren’t any assigned seats. I’ll see if I can find you a book for today’s lesson, but until then, can you share with Kat?”
“Sure,” Declan said.
“I usually sit over here,” I told him, gesturing to the seat I’d already assigned myself by the wall.
“Thanks,” Declan said. “I’m glad I met you on Friday. It’s nice to have someone to show you around and stuff.”
“Well, it seems like you would have met Lucy in drama this morning anyway,” I said, unsure why that thought made me feel a little bit annoyed. “Are you really into that stuff?” I asked as we took our seats. “Acting?”
Declan frowned. “I don’t know about really into. My mom’s an actor, so I think it makes her happy that I’m at least trying it out.”
“Oh, that’s cool. I might want to go into business someday. Like my dad.”
“I guess ‘someday’ is already here,” Declan said with a smile. “I mean, since you’re starting your own business.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I said. The late bell rang and Ms. Levine started class.
I snuck a look over at Declan. He was just as cute under the fluorescent lights of the classroom as he had been in the lobby of the Burgundy on Friday.
It wasn’t easy, but I dragged my attention back to Ms. Levine.
“In formal grammar,” she was saying, “the word it is supposed to be used to refer to animals.” But then she pointed to the picture of her dog, Oscar, behind her desk and said that she would never call him an it.
At that moment, even though the school year was very new, Ms. Levine quickly shot to the top of my favorite-teacher list.
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br /> * * *
After school, Lucy, Taz, and I gathered in my bedroom for the second official meeting of Four Paws Dog-Walking Agency. Mom had taken Micki to buy new shoes, so we had the apartment to ourselves. Taz had revised the flyer, made photocopies, and provided the snacks: a plate of her mom’s delicious samosas.
“These are amazing,” I said, taking a big bite of the hot, flaky treat. Lucy nodded in agreement, her mouth full.
“You know it,” Taz said, polishing off her own samosa. “So what’s next?”
“I was thinking we could hang up the flyers in the laundry room on each floor,” I said, wiping my hands with a napkin.
“Good idea,” Lucy said. “Should we start on the top floor and work our way down?”
“I already put one in the laundry room on my floor,” said Taz, who lived on the tenth floor.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s start on nine, then.”
We were waiting for the elevator (and it was taking forever as usual) when Taz said, “I wonder which floor Declan’s on.”
“He’s on four,” Lucy said before I could answer. “He told me in Drama Club.”
The elevator finally arrived and we stepped inside.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy asked me.
“What, why?”
“You’re frowning.”
“Oh. I was just thinking about how much homework I have to do later,” I lied.
I couldn’t tell my best friend that I was feeling jealous for no reason about Declan. It wasn’t like I could have hoped to be the only one who knew him. He lived in our building, and he went to our school.
And of course he hit it off with Lucy. She was beautiful and nice and funny. I couldn’t hold it against him for having good taste.
We got off on the ninth floor and walked into the laundry room. Like all the laundry rooms, this one had a big corkboard hanging on the wall, so it was easy to figure out where to put the flyer. I scanned the rest of the board. There were ads for babysitters, tutors, housekeepers, and giveaways of furniture. But no other ads for dog walkers. I let out a sigh of relief. My dad always said that a big part of business was finding the right untapped market.