by Daphne Maple
“Sounds good,” she said, nodding. “Thank you.”
“What are you and your son going to do while he’s here?” I asked as we walked toward the front door. Most of the dogs had been picked up and it was time for me and Mr. S to head home too.
“We’re going to see my sister in Germantown,” she said. “And eat lunch at Café DuBois.”
Germantown was about an hour away and even I had heard of Café DuBois, a fancy restaurant that had been written up in national papers.
“That sounds really fun,” I said as Mr. S bounded up to me. He was ready to go out again. “And yummy.”
She was smiling as she snapped Daisy’s leash on. “He’s a chef, so he wanted to try their cuisine. Thanks again for walking Daisy so I can enjoy the day with my son. I don’t get to see him very often.”
“We’ll take great care of Daisy,” I promised as she waved and then headed out.
I reached for my backpack, which was hanging on a rack by the door, intending to make a note in my phone about getting Daisy on Wednesday. But just as I got ahold of it, Bri grabbed hers and our hands bumped. Bri snatched her arm away as though touching me might give her some kind of horrible disease. I glared at her, then took my bag and heaved it over my shoulders.
“Careful,” Taylor said coldly. She was standing right behind me and I’d nearly hit her in the face.
Normally I would have apologized but today I just ignored her. I heard Kim cough as I marched for the door, possibly in reaction to the way Bri had thrown open the door and stormed out with Lily. But I didn’t look back. It felt weird and awkward and downright awful to leave the club alone. Even Mr. S glanced back toward the shelter and then up at me, as if to ask where our friends were.
“They’re not our friends right now,” I told him. And the two of us headed home alone.
We hadn’t planned a sleepover that weekend because Taylor was going to an old friend’s bat mitzvah in North Carolina, Kim’s family was going out to dinner on Saturday to celebrate Matt’s birthday, and Bri had plans with her parents since her dad was home. Saturday I would be at the dance studio all day, but before the fight Kim and I had decided to spend Sunday at my house working on our reports for social studies.
I would have slept in on Sunday morning—I was worn out from rehearsal the day before and I’d been having trouble falling asleep ever since the big fight. But Mr. S had no plans to let me stay in bed a moment longer than usual. Which would have been annoying, but it’s hard to be annoyed at being woken up with sweet doggy kisses.
“You’re the cutest little guy in the world,” I told him as I dragged myself out of bed.
He barked happily, maybe agreeing with me or maybe just pleased that his day was starting. No matter how exhausted I was in the morning, Mr. S made me smile, with all his energy and enthusiasm. He pranced around the block on our walk, taking time to give me kisses as we went. Then back at the house he frisked about as I padded into the kitchen to give him breakfast. And after wolfing that down, he let out a contented sigh and came to lie at my feet for his first nap of the day.
“You have a good life,” I told him, rubbing his tummy with my foot. I was at the table eating oatmeal that my mom, who had come downstairs while I was out, had made for us.
“I think that dog is spoiled,” my mom said, grinning. She looked sleepy too since she’d been out late at another work dinner. She’d mentioned that Taylor’s dad was there but I hadn’t asked more about it. I wasn’t interested in Taylor right now.
“Mr. S isn’t spoiled, he’s just happy,” I said.
My mom gave him an affectionate pat as she got up to take her dish into the kitchen. “We should all be so happy,” she said. “What are your plans for the day, Sash?”
“I’m going to work on my social studies project,” I said, trying to keep my voice even as my stomach scrunched up into a tight ball. I wasn’t sure if Kim was still planning to come over. She probably wasn’t, of course. But I had to admit that a tiny part of me hoped she would. Maybe if the two of us talked alone, she’d apologize and we’d figure out a way to make things work between all four of us.
“No friends today?” my mom asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, pushing the last bite of oatmeal around my bowl instead of eating it. It was hard to eat with a scrunched-up stomach.
Now my mom was looking at me quizzically. “You don’t know?” she repeated, sounding more like a lawyer than a mom.
“Well, it’s just people are out of town and Kim wasn’t sure if she could come over to study with me,” I said quickly. I ducked my head so that my curls, which I hadn’t had time to put up yet, fell over my face. I didn’t need my mom, with her honed instincts for exposing liars on the witness stand, seeing my guilty expression.
“Hm,” my mom said. She was probably about to say more but her phone rang, thank goodness.
“That was a close call,” I whispered to Mr. S, who wriggled slightly but didn’t open his eyes.
“Good morning, Jon,” my mom said in a voice that was very different from the one she’d just been using to interrogate me. It was filled with laughter, almost giddy really. Jon was Taylor’s dad. He was a pretty funny guy and had probably cracked a joke. As if to confirm this, my mom let out a peal of laughter. I realized I missed Taylor’s dad and his jokes, and her sisters, and Kim’s family too. I used to go over to Kim’s almost every day after school. That was back in elementary school, before we had loads of homework and two extra friends hanging out with us. For a moment I sighed, thinking about how things were easier back then.
But as my mom laughed again, I realized it wasn’t a good time for a walk down memory lane; it was a good time to make my escape while she was distracted. I rinsed my bowl in the sink, put it in the dishwasher, and headed upstairs. My phone was on my desk and I checked to see if there were any messages. When it lit up I saw that there was one: a text from Kim.
My heart beat slightly faster as I picked it up and read, “Can’t meet today. I have a cold.”
A wave of disappointment washed over me, followed by one of irritation. If she wanted to cancel she could have come up with a better excuse. I debated what to write back—“No problem”? “I was busy anyway”? Nothing seemed right. So in the end I didn’t reply at all. Instead I sat down in front of my pile of books about Mongolia, determined to finish the last of my research.
But I only made it about halfway through: I was too busy fretting about my friends-who-were-no-longer-my-friends to focus on anything.
“Nice work today,” Madame Florence told me as we wrapped up our final private rehearsal. “You are ready to perform.”
Her praise made me warm inside, like a hot cup of cocoa on an icy day. It had been an icy week, actually, with my friends not speaking at all. The club meeting yesterday had been the worst: we arranged all the pickups through texts and then barely looked at each other when we were at the shelter. By the end of the afternoon Tim and Caley were doing everything they could to get us talking, not that it worked.
“Thanks,” I told Madame Florence. “I’m excited.”
“You should be,” my teacher said with a rare smile.
I was smiling myself as I walked toward the dressing room, my footsteps echoing slightly in the empty hall. As I passed the reception desk I saw a pile of flyers for the show that weekend and my chest fluttered with anticipation. I imagined being onstage at the town hall auditorium, where the performance would be taking place, with my friends cheering me on from the front row. And then my smile slipped away. Because things were still bad with my friends. Awful, really. And I was tired of it.
I headed over to my locker, stripped out of my sweaty dance clothes, and put on my school clothes. It was when I was tying my shoes that I decided enough was enough. I needed my friends and they needed me too.
It was time to end this fight once and for all, and I knew the time to do it was tomorrow, at the Wednesday meeting of our Dog Club.
11
&n
bsp; All day at school I thought about the fight. I realized I was upset about two things: the fact that I did more work than anyone else for the club, and the way my friends had made it seem like it was my fault, because I was so disorganized. So I concocted a plan. I’d be first at our club meeting that afternoon, to show them how responsible and organized I was, and then I’d explain that it was time to rethink the division of labor for the club. I’d be calm and state the facts, the way my mom did in a big case. And I was sure my friends would agree and probably also be impressed with how organized my argument was. It would be a win-win.
When the final bell rang I raced out of school to pick up Mr. S, Popsicle, and Humphrey. I reviewed my argument in my mind as I leashed up each of the dogs and the four of us headed into town. A slight rain started falling as we nearly ran down Main Street. I waved at Kim’s mom, who was at the host desk in the Rox, and my stomach rumbled when I passed Sugar and Spice with its delicious scent of chocolate, lemon, and cinnamon wafting out. But there was no stopping for a treat today. I was going to be first at the shelter no matter what.
Except that I wasn’t: Bri was already there, unclipping Missy and Hattie from their leashes, when I came in, breathless and damp from the rain.
“Oh,” I said as I nearly stepped on Bri.
“Watch it,” she said, her mouth all pinched up.
“I—” I began, but Bri had already started walking away, her back to me and her spine ramrod straight.
Okay, fine, I wouldn’t start with her. But I had to admit my feelings of goodwill were curdling as I toweled off my three charges and sent them to play.
Caley came in, shaking out her umbrella. Today her red hair was up in a high bun that I suspected was a sock bun because it was so perfect and fat. This was not something I would have known before I met Bri, who was always sharing hair tips with us—a thought I pushed away because I did not want to think about crabby Bri.
“Bad news,” Caley said, smoothing the bun, which was still sleek and perfect after her long day at school. “Tim is sick today so it’s just going to be us holding down the fort.”
That was bad news, with the rest of us not speaking to each other.
“We’ll miss him,” Alice said. She’d come out of her office to say hi and was petting Oscar in his cat bed. Today she wore a shirt that had a set of human footprints next to a set of paw prints and a slogan on top that said “Happy Together.” “But it’s been a pretty smooth day so far. Once we get the dogs playing we’ll be fine.”
I looked around the shelter to see which dogs I could get playing. Big Al and Gracie were in a corner sniffing at the toy bin and I headed over to help them find something fun. Caley began a game of fetch with Popsicle, Hattie, and Boxer, while Missy and Humphrey greeted each other and then trotted around the shelter, clearly trying to decide what to do together.
I wasn’t sure what Bri was doing because I didn’t even feel like looking in her direction after she’d been so unpleasant.
I was digging through the toy bin looking for a Frisbee when Kim came in with Jinx and Gus. I tried to catch her eye and smile, to get things moving toward a reconciliation, but she avoided looking around at all. She just let her dogs free and then went to check on Violet, who was in her cage.
I stood up, thinking maybe I’d walk by and check on Violet too, but just then Taylor came in and a big gust of wind blew the door out of her hands and into the wall behind it with a loud thud.
Big Al raced for cover under his blanket, Missy cowered behind Humphrey, and Violet looked out suspiciously from the doorway of her cage.
“Sorry,” Taylor said sheepishly as Alice hurried out of her office to see what was wrong.
“I guess it’s getting pretty stormy out there,” Alice said, going over to free Waffles and Lily from their leashes while Taylor closed the door.
“Yeah, it’s really coming down,” Taylor said, shrugging out of her wet coat and hanging it up.
The moment Lily was free she ran over to greet Bri, who was now playing with Boxer and Mr. S. After Bri had snuggled Lily, she threw the tennis ball across the shelter where it came close to Violet. Violet stepped out of her cage, picked up the ball, and began to run. It seemed like we were all holding our breath as she came back to Bri, dropped the ball at her feet, and got jostled by Boxer, who wanted his turn.
Sure enough, Violet’s ears flattened. Boxer took a step back and Kim rushed over. But before touching Violet she looked at Bri and arched a brow. “Do I need to ask your permission to help?” she asked frostily.
Bri’s eyes narrowed and I saw Alice and Caley exchange a tired look.
“Why bother when you know it all?” Bri muttered, too low for Alice and Caley to hear. But Kim’s mouth pressed into a firm line as she led Violet away.
Taylor, who had also heard, rolled her eyes, and I let out a sigh. Clearly no one was in the mood to apologize, so it didn’t make sense to try and talk now. I’d finally uncovered a Frisbee, which I sent flying across the room, Popsicle, Jinx, and Gus racing after it. I’d wait until things got better and then explain my argument to my friends.
But then things got worse. Violet growled at any dog that came near her, but still wanted to play fetch, so that happened a lot. We were all cooped up because of the rain, and since we still weren’t speaking to one another, no one wanted to start a group game. By the time pickup rolled around, Caley’s sock bun was falling apart, Bri’s neat braids were frizzy, Kim’s face was flushed, and Taylor looked ready for a long nap.
Mrs. Washington arrived first and Gus rushed up to greet her. A moment later Mrs. Torres walked in wearing a snazzy plastic raincoat and matching rain hat. She was smiling as she ushered in a young man with warm brown eyes and a sloping nose that looked just liked hers.
“This is my son, Ricardo,” I heard her say proudly to Caley, who was near the door snuggling with Hattie.
That rang a bell, but I wasn’t quite sure why. I also wasn’t sure why Daisy wasn’t rushing up to meet Mrs. Torres the way she usually did.
“Nice to meet you,” Caley said, going over to shake Ricardo’s hand. “And let’s see about Daisy. It’s been so hectic I’m not sure where she is.”
Then, in a sickening rush, I remembered our conversation last week, the one where Mrs. Torres had asked me to pick up Daisy this afternoon. The one I had totally forgotten until now.
My mouth was dry as I rushed up to her. The smile was fading from her lips as she looked around, trying to find her dog.
“Mrs. Torres, I’m so sorry,” I said, feeling like I might choke on the words. “I forgot to get Daisy.”
Mrs. Torres drew in a sharp breath. “So she’s been alone at home this whole time?”
“I’m so sorry,” I repeated, squeezing my fingers together so tightly they hurt.
Kim, who was standing nearby with Violet, looked at me, shocked, and Taylor came up behind me. “We were supposed to get Daisy today?” she asked.
“Yes, I spoke to Sasha about it last week,” Mrs. Torres said in a clipped voice. “We’d better get home to check on her right away, Ricardo.”
Her son nodded and the two of them swept out. I knew this had ruined the end of their special day together and I felt horrible as I watched them go.
Alice had come out of her office and her face was solemn. “Sasha, what happened?” she asked in a voice so serious it made me wince.
“I just, I forgot,” I stammered. “I have all this stuff for school and then there’s my dance recital. I know it’s no excuse, though. I should have remembered. Mrs. Torres was counting on me.”
“Yes, she was,” Alice said in a resigned tone. She looked at the door for a moment, then started back to her office. “I’ll call and leave a message asking her to let us know how Daisy’s doing when she gets home.”
Kim opened her mouth to speak but before she could, Bri strode up and glared at me. “So we were supposed to pick up Daisy today and you didn’t tell any of us?”
I glared right ba
ck. She knew full well why I hadn’t told any of them: we weren’t speaking.
“Club business should be more important than anything else,” Bri said, her hands now on her hips. “You had a responsibility to let us know we were supposed to pick up an extra dog this week.”
“And a responsibility to Daisy,” Kim said. Her voice wasn’t quite as biting as Bri’s but I could see she was upset at the thought of poor Daisy being locked up all day.
“I know,” I said miserably. I was just as upset about Daisy and about letting down Mrs. Torres as they were, maybe even more—couldn’t they see that? “I messed up and I’m sorry.”
“You’re always sorry, but you keep messing up anyway,” Bri pointed out bluntly. She flicked her braid over her shoulder as if to emphasize her point.
“That’s because I have too much to do,” I said between clenched teeth. “It’s impossible to stay on top of it all.”
“It’s not impossible if you take the time to organize everything,” Bri said, her voice getting louder.
“Calm down or you’ll upset Violet,” Kim said, glancing to where Violet lay on the floor near Boxer and Lily. All three dogs were looking at us uneasily.
“Right, of course I will, because that’s what I do, upset the dogs,” Bri said sarcastically. “And nothing else, because I’m not even a real part of this club.”
“We should all try to stay calm,” Taylor said, glancing at Caley, who was looking over at us with concern.
“That’s not what I said!” Kim exclaimed, now speaking even louder than Bri and completely ignoring Taylor. Her face was flushed and her eyes were flashing.
“Bri just likes to blame everyone else for things,” I said primly. “Instead of actually stepping up and helping.”
“I wanted to help with Violet!” she shouted.
Kim threw up her arms. “Then why did you just stand there waiting for me to step in?” she fumed.