Boys Are Dogs

by Leslie Margolis

  Ever notice how commercials for razor blades always feature some woman shaving in a gigantic tub filled with bubble bath? Well, bubble bath makes me sneeze. So what happens if I sneeze and slip and cut myself with the razor? I’d start to bleed, probably, and blood makes me squeamish. What if I’m bleeding and the sight of it makes me pass out? I could drown in my very own bathtub. That is not a good way to go. Not that there’s any good way to go, but drowning in your own bathwater has got to be one of the worst.

  I guess Rachel could tell I was stressing, because she said, “You don’t need to shave. Just forget about Taylor. I wish we didn’t have PE with her. I wish she didn’t even go to our school.”

  “Yeah.” I agreed because it was easier, but to be honest, Taylor hadn’t ever really bugged me much before. Well, except for today. And on Halloween, I guess.

  I wondered why Rachel hated Taylor so much, but that wasn’t something I could just ask her straight out.

  On my way home, I had this weird thought. Maybe Taylor made me feel bad on purpose just because I was a part of Rachel’s crowd. And as for all those times she’d been nice in the past? Maybe she hadn’t noticed who my friends were.

  Dweeble was just taking the lasagna out of the oven when I walked inside. He and my mom acted normal for the rest of the night, so either they’d made up or they were really good at faking getting along.

  As I got ready for bed, I realized I’d forgotten to ask Rachel not to say anything to our other friends. About the whole Taylor/shaving thing, I mean. I didn’t want it to turn into a big deal, nor did I want to advertise that I hadn’t started shaving, but it was too late to call her. And by the time I saw her again, she’d already spilled the beans.

  At school the next morning I found all my friends huddled around my locker. As soon as I was close enough, Emma said, “I can’t believe Taylor said that to you.”

  I looked from her to Rachel to Claire to Yumi. “What’s going on?” I asked, although I already had a pretty good idea.

  “I told them how Terrible T made fun of you for not shaving,” said Rachel.

  “She didn’t make fun of me exactly,” I said as I worked the combination on my locker. “It was more like, well, more like she just asked me but it was weird.”

  “No, she did it on purpose,” said Rachel. “And that’s just like her.”

  “Rachel’s probably right,” said Emma. “But don’t worry about it.”

  “Yeah, I don’t shave my legs yet,” said Claire.

  “And neither do I,” said Yumi.

  “I just started last summer,” said Emma. “But it’s not a big deal.”

  I was glad to have everyone on my side—but I still felt self-conscious. I wore jeans to school, and socks with my tennis shoes, even though it was pretty hot out. I told myself I wasn’t hiding my legs. But deep down, I knew the truth. Hopefully my friends wouldn’t make the connection, though. Of course, it would be even worse if Taylor realized it. But what other choice did I have?

  “Does her underwear really stick out of her gym shorts every day?” asked Yumi.

  “Not every day.” I glanced at Rachel, who looked away. “I never said every day.”

  “Still, it’s pretty gross,” said Emma.

  She’s gross, so it’s fitting,” Rachel said with a “huff. “Sure she thinks she’s all that, but she’s really just a giant muffin top wrapped in designer clothes.”

  “Oh, so fierce!” said Claire. Claire had been calling lots of things fierce, ever since she heard the word on Project Runway, her favorite show. As far as I could tell, it could mean awesome, nasty, or way harsh, depending on the context.

  Just then I noticed Hannah and Taylor walking toward us. Yumi saw them too, and told us all to shush, which we did.

  As soon as they passed us by, Claire whispered, “Fierce!” and the rest of us exploded into laughter. We just couldn’t help ourselves.

  I guess we were pretty loud because both Hannah and Taylor glanced over their shoulders. Obviously, they knew something was up, but I figured I was safe. No way could Taylor know we were laughing at her.

  Still, our eyes met for a brief second and this look of anger flashed over her face. Like somehow she’d figured it out. The thought gave me the chills.

  Later on I tried smiling at Taylor in the hallway, like everything was still cool. She just looked away, as if she didn’t even know me.

  Then when we had to exchange homework in French, Hannah traded papers with Morgan Greely instead of me. I had to switch with Jeremy Lundy, who marked my mistakes with gigantic red x’s, leaving my paper a huge mess even though I’d only gotten two answers wrong.

  I felt nervous walking into chorus, but I told myself there wasn’t any need to. No way could Taylor and Hannah suddenly not like me just because they assumed my friends and I were laughing at them. Okay, true, we were. But they had no way of knowing that. They couldn’t have heard our conversation or anything.

  Still, as soon as I headed to my seat, Hannah and Taylor looked at each other and laughed. Then when I glanced at them they grinned, but in this evil “we know something you don’t know” kind of way.

  An ice-cold, icky feeling spread through me. Obviously Hannah and Taylor had been talking about me. But were they saying something about my legs? Or my friends? Or worse?

  Half of me was dying to know.

  And the other half was scared to find out.

  Leslie Margolis lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her fairly well-trained, six-toed mutt named Aunt Blanche and her less well-trained husband, Jim. She is also the author of Girls Acting Catty and the young adult novels Fix and Price of Admission. Visit her online at www.lesliemargolis.com.

  Copyright © 2008 by Leslie Margolis

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  First published in the United States of America in September 2008

  by Bloomsbury Books for Young Readers

  E-book edition published in August 2010

  www.bloomsburyteens.com

  For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Bloomsbury BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:

  Margolis, Leslie.

  Boys are dogs / by Leslie Margolis.—1st U.S. ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: When her mother gets a new boyfriend, sixth-grader Annabelle gets to cope with a new town, a new school, and a new puppy and, while training her puppy, she decides to apply some of the same techniques to tame the unruly boys that are making her middle-school life miserable.

  [1. Moving, Household—Fiction. 2. Dogs—Training—Fiction. 3. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 4. Middle schools—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.M33568Bo 2008 [Fic]—dc22 2007052362

  eISBN: 978-1-59990-608-9