Savannah looks like she’s going to cry.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as Ms. Mitchell heads back inside.
“Pip was a holiday reject,” Savannah explains. “Somebody thought he’d look cute in a Christmas stocking, but they hadn’t counted on the responsibility that goes along with a six-week-old puppy. They dropped him off on New Year’s Day and he’s been here ever since.”
“So?”
“So his time is almost up! Shelters can only take care of animals for a couple of months at most. They’ve extended his deadline once already.”
My brow wrinkles. “Deadline? What kind of deadline?”
Savannah looks at me sadly.
I gasp. “No!”
Savannah nods.
I can hardly stand to think about it. “It’s like some horrible nightmare orphanage!” I protest. “It’s worse than the John Grier Home!”
“The John Grier what?” says Savannah, mystified.
“Never mind,” I tell her. For a moment I actually forgot that she isn’t in our book club. “We have to do something!”
“Like what?”
“Like save him!” I bend down and call to Pip and he comes running. He flings himself into my arms, pressing his warm little body against mine and panting happily. He’s easily one of the cutest dogs I’ve ever seen. “I can’t believe there isn’t somebody out there who would want him.” A thought crosses my mind and I stand up, still clutching Pip. “You know what,” I say slowly, “he’d make the perfect birthday present for Emma.”
“That girl with the purple glasses who’s always coming over to visit you?”
“Yeah. She’s my best friend. Like you and Peyton.”
Savannah gives me a funny look.
“Emma’s been wanting a puppy forever,” I continue. “Oh my gosh, she would just love Pip!”
“When’s her birthday?”
“June.”
“It’s the middle of April,” says Savannah. “That’s two months from now. It’ll be too late for Pip.”
“But what if we could take him now—you and me, I mean. We could hide him somewhere—”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“Think about it. I’m sure I could get my friends to help us. There’s a room up in the hayloft that my dad lets us use for a hangout. We could hide him there part of the time. And between all of us, I’m sure we can find plenty of places to stash him.”
“There’s a trunk room in the attic of Witherspoon,” says Savannah, beginning to sound excited. “That could work. And I’ll bet we could find a spot down in the stables, too.”
“It’s just for a few weeks,” I add. “I know we can do this.”
“We’re going to need permission from an adult to adopt him,” Savannah points out.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle that.” I hold out my hand. “Can I borrow your cell? I left mine at home.” Savannah fishes it out of her pocket and passes it to me. “I’ll be right back.”
I sprint inside, grabbing one of the shelter’s brochures as I pass through the lobby. Ducking into the ladies’ room, I take a deep breath and dial the number on the brochure’s cover.
The receptionist answers, and I close my eyes and try and pitch my voice lower, like my mom did when she was playing Larissa LaRue. “This is Mrs. Delaney,” I say. I feel a twinge of guilt—I hate telling lies—but this one’s for a very good cause. Doesn’t that make it a white lie? “My daughter just called to tell me that you have a golden lab puppy looking for a home.”
“That’s right.”
“We’ve been looking for a puppy for Jess, and he sounds perfect. Would it be all right if she brought him home with her today? I’d drive over to pick them up but I’m leaving for Boston shortly for an important appointment, and I won’t be home until after you close.”
“Let me talk to my supervisor,” says the receptionist. She puts the phone down, and I can hear her and Ms. Mitchell talking in the background. I cross my fingers. I cross all my fingers. Thumbs, too.
Savannah’s supervisor gets on the line. “Mrs. Delaney?”
“Yes?”
“This is Janet Mitchell, supervisor at Concord Animal Shelter. What you’re requesting is a little unorthodox, but I don’t see why we can’t accommodate you, as long as your daughter fills out the paperwork and pays the fee.”
Uh-oh, I think. There’s money involved? Ignoring this possible setback, I continue, “Of course, Ms. Mitchell. And thank you so much. This will make one little girl very happy.”
That part isn’t a lie, at least. Emma’s going to be ecstatic.
“No, no, thank you, Mrs. Delaney. I can assure you that this makes us very happy too. I’m so glad your daughter came in with Savannah this afternoon. Pip is one lucky dog.”
I hang up and race back outside, using the other door so I don’t have to go through the lobby.
“Well?” says Savannah.
“Almost home free,” I tell her. “I pretended to be my mom, and it worked like a charm. Except it costs money to spring a puppy from here.”
Savannah smiles. “That’s where I come in,” she says. “Daddy gave me a credit card.”
Half an hour later, we walk out of the animal shelter with Pip on a leash. We’re both giddy with excitement.
“I can’t believe we just did that!” I crow.
Savannah slaps me a high five. “Way to go, Jess!”
We smile at each other, which still feels incredibly strange. Then I tuck our secret puppy into my fleece jacket, zipping it tightly so he stays secure, and climb carefully onto my bicycle. Pip wriggles a bit, but he settles down once he manages to poke his head out so he can see where we’re going.
Back at my house, we pedal directly to the barn. The coast is clear, fortunately, and I scoot right up the hayloft ladder with Savannah on my heels. “Wait here with Pip,” I tell her, and head for the house.
My mother is in the kitchen. “How was your volunteer shift?”
“Great!” I tell her, not even having to fake enthusiasm. “Hey, Mom, Savannah and I were wondering, since it’s kind of warm this weekend, could we camp out tonight in the barn?”
Mom looks surprised. “Really? Savannah is up for that? She doesn’t seem the camping type.”
I shrug.
“Well, it’s okay with me if it’s okay with your father. You can ask him when he gets back—he’s out getting pizza for supper.” She smiles at me. “I’m so glad you two are getting along. I knew this weekend would be a good idea!”
I kiss her on the cheek, feeling another little prickle of guilt. “Thanks, Mom.”
Racing upstairs I round up two pillows, a hot water bottle, a fuzzy bathmat, an extra blanket, a pair of flashlights, and my alarm clock. The sleeping bags and air mattresses are stored in the barn, and so are Sugar and Spice’s old crates. I can snag some dog food later.
“She said yes!” I tell Savannah jubilantly, pulling the hayloft ladder up behind me just in case my little brothers are lurking around. They love to spy on me and my friends.
Savannah nods at Pip, who is blissfully asleep in her arms. “Isn’t he adorable?”
I kiss the tip of his nose. “Absolutely. We did the right thing for sure. We couldn’t have let anything happen to Pip.”
We spend the evening setting up our sleeping area, making a nest for Pip in his crate with the bathmat and hot water bottle and blanket, and laying down newspapers in the far corner for him to do his business. We eat pizza, and work on a chart for keeping our secret puppy circulating among my friends. Every once in a while I look over at Savannah and feel like pinching myself. I still can’t believe the two of us are actually having fun.
We decide that Pip will spend the weekends at Half Moon Farm, then come back with me to Colonial Academy on Sunday nights.
“On Monday night he can stay with Cassidy, Tuesday with Megan, Wednesday with Becca and Stewart, and Thursday with Zach,” I say, putting a check by each name on my clipboard. “Then Friday afternoo
n I’ll bring him home with me again.”
“You really think you can hide him two nights in a row?” Savannah looks worried.
“No problem. With all the animals we have around here, even if he makes a little noise I doubt anybody will notice.”
Between farm chores and frequent trips up to the hayloft to check on Pip, Monday whizzes by. I leave messages for all my friends and tell them to call my cell phone when they get home, and one by one, they call to see what’s up. The minute they hear about Pip, they beg to come over.
“Just be sure not to let anything slip to Emma,” I warn them.
“Jess must have told you about our new baby goats,” my mother says a little while later, when Megan and Cassidy and Becca all show up.
“Uh-huh,” Cassidy replies, her eyes wide with innocence, which isn’t a lie because I did.
“Just try and keep it down out there, okay? New mothers need their rest.”
I promise my mother we won’t overwhelm Sundance and Matilda, and we don’t because we barely stop to look into their pens before we climb up to the hayloft.
“Oh, my gosh, he’s sooooo cute!” squeals Becca when she catches sight of Pip.
“Shhhh!” I whisper. “My dad’s downstairs in the creamery!”
We take turns passing him around, and I see them watching Savannah, curious about the sudden transformation I told them about. After we hear my dad leaving the barn, we play with Pip until he falls in a contented heap at my feet.
“I guess I’d better get going,” says Megan reluctantly. “My mother will be here any minute to pick me up.”
“Mine too,” says Becca.
“Uh-oh,” says Savannah, looking at her watch.
“What?” I reply.
“I completely forgot about Briggs. He’ll be here soon to get me, too.”
“Who the heck is Briggs?” asks Becca.
“My chauffeur,” Savannah replies, and Becca’s mouth drops open. I guess she didn’t believe me when I told her about Briggs.
Savannah and I look at each other in dismay. No way can we hide a puppy from her chauffeur.
“I have an idea,” says Cassidy. “Gimme your cell phone, Megan.”
Megan passes her the phone and she starts to dial.
“Who are you calling?” I ask.
“Darcy Hawthorne,” Cassidy replies, and my heart skips a beat. “My sister’s at the movies with her friends, and he’s the only one I know with a car. Besides, I bet he’ll help us.”
“Maybe that’s not such a good idea,” says Becca. “What if Emma answers?”
Cassidy shrugs. “I’ll think of something.”
Fortunately, Darcy answers. Cassidy puts him on speakerphone, and at the sound of his familiar deep voice my heart does another little somersault.
“Hey, Darcy, it’s Cassidy Sloane.” She tells him the whole story, and then explains the fix we’re in. “Could you make up some sort of excuse and come over here right away? Somebody needs to drive Jess and Savannah back to Colonial Academy instead of Savannah’s chauffeur.”
There’s a pause. “Savannah has a chauffeur? Sheesh, Emma never told me that.”
Savannah’s face turns pink. “What’s the big deal about Briggs?” she whispers.
“Can’t your sister drive them?” Darcy continues.
“She’s at the movies,” Cassidy tells him. “Please? We really need your help.”
“I don’t know, Cassidy,” Darcy says cautiously. “My parents really, really don’t want a dog. Plus, remember what happened last time you asked me to keep something secret?”
How could we forget? Back in sixth grade, Emma and I helped Cassidy disguise herself so she could try out for the boys’ hockey team. We ended up letting Darcy in on the secret because Cassidy forgot her helmet at the last minute and had to borrow his. The four of us got in tons of trouble, and Mrs. Sloane-Kinkaid almost pulled Cassidy out of our book club.
“I know, but this is different,” Cassidy pleads. “It’s life or death.”
Darcy sighs. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Cassidy gives Megan her cell phone back and my friends say good-bye to Savannah and me. We put Pip in his crate and head back to the house to get packed.
“Just act natural,” I tell Savannah a few minutes later as the Hawthorne’s old station wagon pulls into the driveway. “I’ll do the talking.”
“Hi, Mrs. Delaney!” says Darcy, knocking on the door to our back porch.
“Darcy!” my mother replies, surprised. “Well, hello! What are you doing here?”
“I’m on my way to Kyle’s and stopped by with something for Jess.”
“That’s Emma’s brother?” Savannah whispers to me as he comes into the kitchen.
I nod.
“Emma with the purple glasses?”
I nod again.
“Hey, Jess,” Darcy says, holding out a stuffed monkey with GO BANANAS FOR BOOKS! emblazoned on its little yellow T-shirt. “This is from Emma. She absolutely, positively wanted you to have this tonight so you could take it back to the dorm with you.”
My mother’s forehead wrinkles. “Really? Well, that was nice of you to bring it over.”
“Mom,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “Do you think maybe Darcy could drop Savannah and me at Colonial Academy? It’s practically right on his way to the Andersons’. We want to go back a little early so we can make cookies for our dorm tonight.”
“Sure, I can do that,” says Darcy.
“I’m sure Briggs won’t mind having the evening off,” adds Savannah.
My mother considers the idea. “I don’t see why not,” she says. “I’ll go ahead and cancel the pickup.”
A few minutes later, as we’re loading my backpack and Savannah’s suitcase into the back of the station wagon, I turn to Darcy. “Where did you get that awful monkey?”
He grins. “Emma brought him home for me from the library conference. You’d better act surprised when she gives you yours.”
After checking to be sure the coast is clear, the three of us head for the hayloft. Pip is still curled up in his crate. I open it and he stumbles out, yawning a big puppy yawn.
I glance up at Darcy, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Isn’t he cute?”
“Definitely,” says Darcy, and for a split second I think maybe he’s looking at me instead of Pip. Then he reaches for Pip and so do I and we both grab him at the same time, our fingers intertwining. Darcy doesn’t pull his hands away.
“Um,” I say, taking a deep breath. It’s now or never.
“Darcy,” drawls Savannah from behind us.
“Yes?” he replies, looking over his shoulder.
“I’m wondering if perhaps y’all would be interested in going to the Founder’s Day Dance with me at Colonial Academy?”
My mouth drops open.
“I know you don’t know me but you’d be doing me a huge favor,” she continues. “My friend Peyton lined up a blind date for me, but he backed out. After I bought my dress and everything!” She puts her hand on my shoulder. “And of course Jess here already has a date.”
Darcy looks back at me, and for a fraction of a second I think I see a flicker of disappointment in his warm brown eyes. He lets go of my fingers. “Oh,” he says.
No! I want to scream. It’s not true!
Darcy shrugs. “Sure, why not,” he says, smiling up at Savannah. “I’ve never been to a dance at Colonial Academy.”
Savannah smiles back at him. The familiar Sinclair smirk I’ve come to know and hate. “You are a true gentleman.”
I clutch Pip to my chest, blinking back angry tears. I can’t believe Savannah just asked Darcy to the dance! And what’s worse, that he said yes! Couldn’t he see what she was doing? Couldn’t he tell that I was just about to ask him the same thing? And that lie about me already having a date!
So much for feeling sorry for Savannah Sinclair, I think to myself bitterly. I don’t care how sad and pathetic her poor little rich girl life is, and I
don’t care that she helped rescue Pip. There’s no way we can ever be friends now.
Megan
“I’m a foreigner in the world and I don’t understand the language.”
—Daddy-Long-Legs
“Ninety-nine bottles of pop on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of pop!”
I jam my pillow over my ears, trying to shut out the noise from the back of the bus, and from Becca, who’s leaning on my shoulder, snoring. We left Walden Middle School at the crack of dawn this morning heading for Washington, D.C., and I’m feeling grumpy for two reasons: lack of sleep, and the fact that I’m here and not in Paris.
My parents and I took Gigi to the airport last night, and right up until the minute she got on the plane I kept hoping they’d change their minds and let me go with her. I should have known better.
I glare at the back of my mother’s head, which is propped against the window of the seat in front of me. She’s asleep too, and so is Mrs. Chadwick, who’s sitting next to her. I can only imagine how fun this trip will be, what with the two of them as chaperones.
I yawn, and Becca stirs. “Somebody should tell those guys to shut up,” she mumbles.
A minute later, somebody does. The singing has woken Mr. Keller, who stomps down the aisle and starts throwing his weight around. After he sorts the boys out, I finally manage to go back to sleep, and I sleep all the way to Connecticut. It’s light outside by the time we reach our first stop and everybody piles off the buses. I stretch, then head for the restaurant along with the rest of my classmates.
Breakfast cheers everyone up, except my mother. She doesn’t do fast food, so she just orders coffee, but then she has to go and grill the poor guy behind the counter about whether it’s shade-grown and fair-trade certified, and of course he doesn’t have a clue so she holds up the line while he goes to find the manager. I try to pretend like we’re not together, but that’s pointless because ever since last year, when she handcuffed herself to a tree at Jess’s house and her picture ended up in the Walden Woodsman, everybody at school knows exactly who my mother is.
After breakfast, we pile back onto the bus and Emma breaks out a deck of cards. She and Cassidy and Becca and I start a game of rummy, which Gigi taught us how to play, and we invite Kevin, who is sitting across the aisle with his dad, to join us.
Dear Pen Pal Page 18