by Donna Cooner
“If they’re your friends, they will understand. Tell them how you feel.”
“How?” I frowned. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Isco said. “I know you will.”
I stroked Rocco’s head, and his eyes closed in delight. If only people were so simple to please.
“Speaking of telling people how you feel …” Isco squinted one eye at me. “I didn’t mean to come on too strong the other day.”
“You didn’t,” I said.
He looked surprised. “I didn’t?”
I shook my head. “No … I wanted to kiss you, actually. But I just wasn’t ready. I was still getting over my ex-boyfriend, and dealing with everything happening online. But I think things are getting better now. I hope.” A smile started very slowly on his lips and grew into full-blown Isco brilliance. My breath caught in my throat. And I smiled back.
The overhead lights blinked twice, signaling the shelter was closing. I stood up, giving Rocco a couple of goodbye pats.
Isco looked up at me, his dark eyes shining. “So, when you’re ready, you’ll let me know?”
I bit my bottom lip and nodded slowly. “But I need some time to try to fix the mess I made.”
“I’ll be here,” Isco said, and I believed him.
I stopped at home first to pick up something, then went straight to Caitlin’s house. Coach Stone answered the door and gave me a sad smile.
“Congratulations on the big win,” I said.
“Thanks.” He didn’t move out of the way and invite me in like usual.
“I was hoping I could talk to Caitlin?” I hated the way my voice quivered.
“I’m sorry, Annie.” He shook his head. “She said she didn’t want to talk to you tonight.”
I was stunned. In all our years of being best friends, this had never happened before. “Is Luna with her?”
He nodded. “Normally, I’d take you upstairs and get you all to figure things out face-to-face, but Cait was pretty upset. I think you might need to give her some space.”
I looked away, blinking hard. Then I dug down into my bag to pull out the journal I’d grabbed from my room at home. The gold dragon on the front shone in the porchlight. “Can you give her this?”
Coach Stone looked down at the journal with raised eyebrows but didn’t ask any questions. “I’ll give it to her, but I can’t promise anything,” he said. He took the journal from my outstretched hand.
I turned to go back to my house, but he stopped me. “Just give it a little time, Annie. She’ll talk to you.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
Dad and Mom were on the couch laughing at a Big Bang Theory rerun, but I managed to hold my tears in long enough to greet them and get up the stairs before they looked my way.
I shut my bedroom door and flung myself across the bed, replaying all the shocked looks after the big announcement. But the faces that kept coming up over and over in my mind belonged to Caitlin and Luna. I lost my best friends because of my own stupidity. I sobbed so hard I couldn’t catch my breath. Finally, I lay exhausted and still sniffling on my bed, staring up at the Eiffel Tower. I let out a long ragged breath. I didn’t want to only see pictures of the Eiffel Tower. I wanted the real thing, but that meant seeing the real around me.
When did I stop listening to my real friends?
Is this who I want to be?
I glanced at my phone. The prison doors were still open, and it was time to leave.
One by one I deleted my social media accounts. Even the ones in my hidden folders where only I knew they were. Then I changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and crawled back into bed, getting under the covers. My brain raced with worry, fear, and anxiety. But I didn’t reach for my phone to shut down my thoughts.
I tossed and turned most of the night, but finally fell asleep toward morning. By the time I stumbled downstairs, sunshine lit up the family room through the open windows.
Savanna sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket and flipping through channels on the television. My dad sat at the dining room table, reading the paper.
“Ahh,” Savanna said, seeing me. “Sleeping Beauty finally decides to join us.”
I rubbed my eyes and squinted at her. She patted the couch cushion beside her, and I obediently stumbled across the room in my oversized T-shirt, pj bottoms, and bare feet to plop down next to her. Out of habit, I had my cell phone in my hand, but I didn’t check it.
“You look grumpy,” Savanna said, throwing part of the blanket across my lap. I wanted to say if she’d lost her best friends, she would be grumpy, too. But I didn’t.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“I know something to cheer you up.”
“Does it involve weddings?” I asked.
She made a face. “Sort of …” She clicked the remote to the movies selection. “But not my wedding. Because we’re all sick of talking about that, right?”
I looked at her in surprise. “Really?”
She shrugged. “I just need to think of something else for a while.”
“Me too,” I said, and Savanna laughed.
“So … let’s watch a movie together. Your favorite. The Princess Bride.”
I smiled, even though I didn’t think it possible today. “As you wish,” I said.
We snuggled down in the blankets, pulling up throw cushions for pillows, and Savanna started the movie.
My dad joined us. “I haven’t seen this in a long time. Can you pause it long enough for me to make some popcorn?”
Savanna giggled. “As you wish.”
Dad popped the corn and then sprinkled it with his special cheese mix. Within a few minutes, we were chanting along to our favorite lines and laughing at the best parts. Watching a movie you loved was almost as good as learning about faraway places. For a moment, the world of broken vows and shattered friendships slipped away.
“Those sea snake things terrify me,” Mom said. I didn’t even realize she had come into the room and was standing behind the couch in her scrubs. She walked around and sat down beside Dad, putting up her feet on the coffee table and snuggling into his shoulder. I passed the bowl of popcorn in her direction, still chewing. It felt good to be a family—just the four of us—for a little while longer.
I could only think of one more thing that could add to this scene.
“I think we should get a dog,” I said.
“Very funny,” Mom said, then put a handful of popcorn in her mouth.
But I wasn’t kidding. And of course I had a very specific dog in mind.
Just as the movie finished, my phone buzzed with a text message. I reached for my phone warily, and what I saw on the screen surprised me.
LUNA: LOOK OUT YOUR WINDOW
Friendship is the only cement that will hold the world together.
—Woodrow Wilson
I rushed upstairs to my room and pulled back the curtain, staring out toward Luna’s bedroom. But her blinds were closed tight. There was no welcoming figure signaling me to come over. My heart sank. Maybe the text had been some sort of a cruel trick, although that wasn’t Luna’s style.
But just before I shut my curtains, I saw the flicker in the distance. The firepit in Caitlin’s backyard was lit. The smoke curled up into the sky, sending out a signal of hope.
I threw on leggings, a hoodie, and my sneakers. I left my phone sitting on my desk. When I entered the backyard a few minutes later, I found Luna and Caitlin sitting around the fire.
“Hey,” Luna said when she saw me. “We were hoping you’d come.”
My heart pounded with nerves, but I was relieved she said that. I glanced at Caitlin, and she nodded.
I dropped down in the Adirondack chair next to Luna, stretching my legs out in front of me. I waited for one of them to say something, but it was quiet except for the crackling of the recently lit fire. Flames licked out around the pile of wood in the middle of the
stone circle, blue in the center and bright white in the flickers. Heat washed across my face, and I scooted closer, holding out my hands to the warmth. We sat in silence for a few more minutes, all of us watching the fire. I thought of all the times we’d lit fires and all the reasons.
Finally, I said, “I’m sorry.”
The words were quiet and small, but I couldn’t add anything else to them. I hoped it was enough.
“I was reading.” Luna held up my journal, and I realized she’d been holding it in her lap. She motioned toward Caitlin. “We both were.”
My mouth quivered. This was not what I expected. My heart raced while I waited for what would come next.
“I didn’t know how hard the vow was for you,” Luna said. “I mean, it was hard for all of us. But …”
I turned toward her and sighed. “I know. It shouldn’t have taken me this long to tell you. And you shouldn’t have found out the way you did. I never meant to let you down.”
“But why couldn’t you tell us in person what you wrote in the journal?” Caitlin asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Without ChitChat, it felt like I wasn’t real,” I said. “And I felt like I was missing out on too much. And that felt silly to admit to you guys.”
“You can tell us anything,” Luna said. “Even if it’s silly. You know that, right?”
Big, fat tears gathered in my eyes. I nodded.
“Besides, it’s not silly,” Luna said. “Caitlin and I felt the same way.”
“I mean, come on,” Caitlin chimed in. “I broke the vow, too. I get it.”
Luna nodded. “It’s hard, what we did. We can’t put too much pressure on ourselves.”
I thought about what Isco had said. “Yeah. Everybody makes mistakes.” I looked at Caitlin. “Me … you … Milo.”
I saw the hope in her eyes.
“If you want to give him a chance, I won’t stand in the way,” I told her.
“Okay,” Caitlin agreed, giving a shaky laugh.
I let out a breath of relief. “What I really want to say is that the worst part was not breaking the vow. It was not being honest with you both,” I said. I looked from Caitlin to Luna.
Luna reached out and squeezed my hand. “Your journal was so powerful,” Luna said. “It made me remember why I love words so much. Maybe one day—when you’re ready—I can share your real story about ChitChat? I think there are lots of people who need to read it.”
I nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“Here.” Caitlin held out her journal to me. “Feel free to read my journal. It’s a scary thing handing this over. You must have been terrified. There are things in here I haven’t told anyone. Anyway …”
I could feel my hand shaking as I reached for it. “Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“You should have this one, too.” Luna gave me her journal as well.
I felt the weight of both in my hands. Light. Easy. Yet so full of thoughts never shared.
“I don’t deserve this,” I said, blinking back tears.
“Nobody deserves best friends,” Luna said. “That’s exactly why they are there when you need them.”
Now I was smiling inside and out. Caitlin stood up to throw another log on the fire, and the flames grew. I watched the light flicker and glow on the faces around the circle.
“Can we say it?” I asked.
Then we all chanted together in unison.
“As this fire is my witness, I vow to always stay friends. No matter what. No matter how.”
Later that afternoon, I went grocery shopping with my dad. I felt so much lighter and freer after talking with Luna and Caitlin, but there was still something big on my mind.
“Hey, Dad? Do you remember when we were watching the movie … ?” I began.
“Uh-huh,” he said, looking up and down the row of cottage cheese. I could tell he wasn’t paying attention. He held out one brand, brow furrowed. “Is this the one your mom likes?”
“Sure,” I said, even though I really didn’t know. “And remember how I said we needed a dog?”
He rolled the cart toward the lunch meat and picked up some honey-baked turkey. “You don’t like dogs.”
I casually added some string cheese to the basket. “That’s the thing. I thought I didn’t like dogs, but actually I do. A lot. ”
“Okay,” my dad said. “Maybe one day you’ll get a dog.”
I stood in front of the cart, keeping it from rolling any farther. “I like this one dog in particular.”
Suddenly, it dawned on him. He shook his head emphatically, then rolled the cart around me. “No way, Annie. We’re not getting a dog. There is enough going on in our house with Savanna’s wedding. We definitely don’t need a dog!”
“I’ll take care of everything,” I promised. “I’ll feed the dog, and walk him, and buy his food and take him to the vet. Promise.” I also had a plan, one that I’d texted Isco about earlier. If I could get a part-time job at the shelter, that would give me enough money to pay for Rocco’s dog food and vet visits. I’d thought of everything.
“None of us have the time to train a dog.” Dad shifted his attention to the man behind the counter and ordered a pound of ground meat.
“That’s the great thing about Rocco,” I said. “He’s already trained. He knows all his commands and he’s an older dog, so no puppy craziness.”
My dad accepted the package from the butcher and rolled off toward the bread aisle. I followed closely. Dad put a loaf of bread in the cart. I took his silence as a good sign.
“Rocco is a really great dog, Dad.” I put my hand on his and looked him straight in the eyes. “And this is important to me.”
He looked back at me, then said, “Your mom’s going to kill me.”
I jumped up and down, screaming and hugging him right in the middle of the fruits and vegetables.
Bright and early on Sunday, Dad drove me to the shelter.
Somehow, Rocco knew when I snapped the leash onto his collar that today was different. That we weren’t just going out for a quick walk and coming back. He looked up at me with all-knowing eyes, smiling his happy, panting grin. His tail thumped against the concrete rhythmically—thump, thump, thump—but there were no excited twirls or whines. It was as though he always knew this day would come and wondered why it had taken so long for me to realize it.
“We’re going home,” I told him, and we walked down the long corridor and out the front door of the shelter. Isco wasn’t working today, but I waved to the woman behind the desk, the one who’d helped me and Dad out with all the paperwork. If everything panned out, I’d be back here myself to work someday soon.
I opened the front door, and Rocco walked into the house, tail wagging and sniffing at the scents. Slowly he made his way into the kitchen, and I showed him his very own bowl—one I had purchased yesterday—on the floor by the pantry. Then I gave him a new toy, a stuffed elephant. He carried it in his mouth as we explored the rest of the house, including the upstairs bedrooms and his new dog pillow in the corner of my room. Finally, there was the backyard. Rocco explored every corner from one side of the fence to the other, checking in with me every few minutes to make sure I was still there. I sat on the patio steps and watched his joy. I could see it from his panting smiley face to the tip of his wildly wagging tail—this was a wonderful, astonishing place. He joined me on the steps with a lick of a kiss. I put my arm around his shoulders, and we surveyed his new world with satisfaction.
“There’s even a squirrel that comes down that pine tree and walks right down the top of the fence,” I told him.
When Mom came downstairs from sleeping, Dad and I were settled in on the family room floor playing with Rocco and Elephant. Rocco lifted his head, Elephant between his front paws, and just waited. Mom sat in the chair opposite us, her face grim.
“So this is Rocco?”
I nodded.
Mom ever so slightly patted the side of her leg. Rocco immediately go
t up and crossed the room, leaving Elephant behind at my feet.
“Sit,” Mom said.
Rocco sat.
Mom looked at Rocco. Rocco looked at Mom.
“Do you think you’re going to be happy here?” Mom asked Rocco.
Rocco’s tail smacked against the floor in response.
“Me too,” Mom said, then reached out to scratch Rocco right on the spot behind his ears where he liked it best. He lay down, then rolled over for tummy rubs. Mom obliged. I grinned.
By later that afternoon, the whole family was like putty in Rocco’s paws. He let Savanna dress him up in a baseball hat and sunglasses. He listened intently to my mom’s favorite jazz station and kept time with his tail. He even snuggled in, at my father’s invitation, on the couch to watch a science documentary.
After, we went up to my room. I congratulated Rocco on a job well done, but he just put his big head on my stomach and began to snore. I took a photo of him and texted it to Isco, who responded right away with a bunch of exclamation points. He was thrilled I’d adopted Rocco, and we texted back and forth for a while. But I didn’t stay on my phone for long. I put it aside, stroked Rocco’s soft brown nose, and stared up at the Eiffel Tower on my ceiling.
Journeys don’t always go as intended, I thought. And maybe that was the best thing.
ME: ROCCO WANTS TO MEET THE REST OF MY FAMILY. MEET AT THE PARK IN 10 MINUTES?
CAITLIN: SEE YOU THERE!
LUNA: ON MY WAY.
When we met up with Caitlin and Luna, Rocco’s tail waved so wildly it shook his whole back end. He knew all the attention was for him, and he loved it.
“He’s so big,” Luna said, squatting down to kiss him firmly on the nose.
“And soft.” Caitlin stroked the top of his head.
Rocco looked from one to the other as though this was the best moment of his life, but he always looked like that since he’d left the shelter. I parked myself on the bench at the picnic table, the sun warming my back, and Rocco lay at my feet. The park was deserted except for the three of us, but that wasn’t unusual. The developers put it in before they built more houses at the end of our street, so for now it sat alone in the middle of a wide field of grass with only three swings, a slide, and one picnic table.