Sit, Stay, Love

by J. J. Howard

  Ugh! What was he doing here?

  I struggled to my feet, untangling myself from the pups, and crawled out of the crate.

  Once I was back on my feet I realized that Eric was standing there with a lady who was probably his mom. And now that his face was no longer hidden in shadow I could tell that he was laughing at me.

  Of course.

  I stood up a little straighter. It really bothered me how superior Eric Chung was always acting. His family is super wealthy, and he never lets anyone forget it. He and Lily have these crazy fancy smartphones that are normally only available in Japan. And every time I see Eric use it at school during lunch, I swear I see a smug little smile on his face.

  “Can we help you?” I asked him, a hint of annoyance in my voice. Lori looked up from her coffee in surprise at my tone.

  Eric’s grin faded a little. “We’re looking for a dog.”

  “Why would you look here?” The words were out of my mouth before I could think. Everyone knew about the Chung family’s dogs—there were a bunch of them, all famous for winning lots of dog shows. There were the two chow chows, who always won the biggest prizes. Then there were four other dogs—a Lab and three corgis. All purebred, of course, since non-purebreds aren’t allowed to compete in dog shows. So it didn’t make sense why they would come to Lori’s adoption fair; I figured the Chungs only adopted fancy show-quality dogs, not strays off the street.

  “Cecilia!” Lori frowned at me. “I’m sorry,” she said to Eric and Mrs. Chung, who was petting the puggle on the head. “Please just let me know if you’d like to see any of these little guys out of their crate.”

  Mrs. Chung stood up. “Thank you,” she said to Lori. “My son is looking for … a particular type of dog.”

  I gave a quiet scoff. Particularly purebred, I thought.

  “I’m hoping to find a full-breed dog,” Eric said to Lori, ignoring me. “I’m training one of our dogs for the next local show—the Winsted Winner’s Circle. I’d like to try to prove to … some people …” He paused and looked at his mom. “I’d like to prove that an adopted stray could win just like the dogs we get from the fancy breeders.”

  Mrs. Chung rolled her eyes but smiled at her son. “I don’t know where he gets these ideas,” she said to Lori. She patted Eric’s shoulder. “This one’s crazy about animals, and he’s such a big help to me, so I said he could try out this wild theory of his.” She turned to Eric. “I don’t see any dogs today that would fit what you’re looking for. Maybe you could check back in a few weeks?”

  Lori started to say, “We may have …” but then I shot her a warning look. “I’ll keep a lookout for you—now that I know what you’re looking for. I’ll check in with Mary Carlton over in Winchester. It’s a bigger shelter.” She smiled at Eric. “It is always better to adopt than to buy. I must say I think your son has the right idea.”

  Mrs. Chung thanked Lori and started moving down the street. Eric nodded to Lori. He looked back at me for just a second before following his mom.

  It was sort of weird how he was looking for a stray dog to show, I thought as he walked away, but then I pushed the thought aside and started to help Lori pack up the dogs in her van. Eric probably just liked the idea of rescuing a stray. It wouldn’t be long before his family was adopting another dog that cost more than a car and trotting it around a ring to win some fancy prize.

  His mom had said he was crazy for animals, but a crazy-for-animals person wouldn’t have passed up all seven of these adorable pups just so he could find the fanciest one to put on display.

  I breathed a sigh of relief that Potato, the only purebred dog we had right now was safe and sound back at Orphan Paws. Not that Eric would have gone for him anyway: a poor pup with a torn ear who looked like, well, a potato. The image of Potato as a show dog was so funny I had to laugh out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” Lori asked me.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “Are you going to tell me why you were rude to that boy?”

  “I wasn’t! At least, I didn’t mean to be. Not exactly, anyway. He goes to my school,” I told her. “He’s just sort of …” I trailed off. Arrogant? Stuck-up? “I just don’t really like him, is the thing.”

  Lori stared at me for a few seconds. “Why do I feel like there’s more to this story?”

  “There isn’t! He doesn’t even know my name, I’ll bet.”

  “If you say so,” Lori said. She shut the back doors of the van. “Hop in and I’ll give you a ride to your aunt’s.”

  Lori cranked up the volume on her radio and we sang along the whole drive, so at least I didn’t have to answer any more questions about Eric Chung.

  Had I been rude to him? Eric was annoying, but what if he had wanted one of the dogs we had today and I changed his mind by being so harsh?

  Maybe Mel was right. Maybe I was a turtle. Maybe all anyone could see of me was the hard shell on the outside.

  Cecilia Louise Murray (my birth certificate; my father if I’m in trouble)

  Chasmophile, chelonian, or whatever is on her Word of the Day calendar (Mel)

  That girl over there (assorted kids in my class)

  Honestly, Cecilia (Aunt Pamela)

  Arf! (Potato)

  The next day I walked into third-period math class to find out that Mrs. Lawrence, who was pregnant, had her baby three weeks early. So she was going to be out for the rest of the year. Our sub was named Mr. Garret but he told us to call him Chip. After going over decimals for seven minutes, Chip asked the class if we wanted to start our homework or go outside to play kickball.

  Of course all the loudmouths in the class yelled out “Kickball!” and started heading for the door.

  “But there’s no math in kickball,” piped up Allie Cross. Lily Chung, Eric’s twin sister, nodded her agreement.

  But it was too late—Chip was already out the door. When I walked by Allie’s seat she was angrily slamming her math book shut and muttering under her breath. I wasn’t a fan of either math or kickball, but at least it wasn’t very cold out, and this way I could put off the fun of fractions for a few more hours.

  When I got outside, I stood in the back of the group as Chip divided us into teams. Then I headed straight to my usual position: the extreme outfield. I stood there for a few seconds, pretending the sun was much warmer than it actually was.

  “This stinks, huh?” came a voice from somewhere behind me.

  I jumped out of my skin, then whirled around. I’d really thought I was alone, based on the fact that I’d gone so far out I was almost playing kickball in a different school district.

  The owner of the voice chuckled a little, but she ducked her head shyly at the same time. It was Lily Chung. I thought about how she and Eric didn’t look that much alike: He was very tall, but Lily was very tiny. Lily had long, shiny black hair while Eric’s was short and spiky. Her skin was paler than Eric’s, but that was probably because Eric was so athletic and spent a lot of time outdoors.

  Lily was usually pretty quiet in class. But just like her brother, she was popular. It probably didn’t hurt that their family had a lot of money and lived in a huge house with (so it was reported) a movie theater and a one-lane bowling alley.

  “Can I hide out here with you?” Lily asked.

  “Sure,” I answered. I wondered if maybe Lily was just a little bit chelonian, too.

  Lily let out a relieved sigh. “I just can’t handle any more kickball. In gym class once, they made me play third base, and then the ball was coming toward me … Everyone was yelling, and then everything was bad …” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Let’s just say I wound up in the nurse’s office with an ice pack on my nose.”

  I chuckled. “Sorry,” I said. “I don’t like it either. That’s why I’m all the way out here—and I’m hoping nobody kicks one out this far.”

  I turned to look back at our tiny classmates kicking far off in the distance. Chip seemed to be showing the pitcher how to really do things right
.

  “You’re not on any sports teams either, are you, Cecilia?” There was just a hint of hesitation as she said my name—like maybe she wasn’t 100 percent sure that it was my name. Or maybe I was just imagining that.

  “No—I’m garbage at sports. But I keep pretty busy working at Orphan Paws—the dog shelter.”

  “Your parents let you have a job? Wow!” Lily exclaimed.

  “Well, I just volunteer,” I said. I was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Lily—I realized I hadn’t ever spoken more than a couple of words to her before.

  “I have to help my mom with training sometimes. My mom is, like, obsessed with dog shows,” Lily told me.

  Of course. I was already familiar with the Chung family dog show legend. I thought it best not to mention the interaction I’d had with Eric and Mrs. Chung outside the bookstore.

  “But that’s really cool you have a job of your own already. Even if it is volunteering,” Lily went on. “My brother would probably love it there. He helps my mom way more than I do. He’s better with the dogs and everything.”

  We both heard Chip calling us back at that moment and started walking toward the rest of the class.

  “Well, it was nice not playing kickball with you,” I told her.

  “You too!” Lily said brightly. She ran over to join her usual friends on the way into the school building. I watched her go. Maybe Lily wasn’t as snobby as I thought she was. I couldn’t say the same about her brother, though.

  * * *

  After school, I told Potato about Lily and math kickball as I brushed his fur gently.

  When I’d gotten to Orphan Paws that day, of course right away I asked Lori how the Tater was doing. “He’s still improving a little each day,” she’d told me. “Although I must admit I think he does miss you while you’re at school.”

  I’d smiled, feeling a warm glow. “Well, good.”

  “Your dad getting any closer to letting you have a pet?” Lori had prodded gently.

  I knew why she was asking. She didn’t keep any dogs forever. And I knew that her husband had a strict policy about Lori not bringing home any more rescues from work. (They already had five dogs.) If I couldn’t take Potato home with me, someone else would.

  And I knew I couldn’t.

  “We’re still living with my aunt,” I’d told her, feeling miserable. The timing was really bad. But I knew I’d need to work up the nerve to talk to my dad about Potato. Maybe if he said yes to me having a dog after we moved back home, Lori would hold him for me. I figured I’d earned that much.

  For the rest of the afternoon, though, I tried to put those fears out of my mind and just coo at little Potato. He seemed a little less skinny already—you couldn’t count every rib. I fed him the little bits of hamburger I’d saved from lunch and he licked all the grease from my palm.

  I fell asleep with Potato in my lap, and Lori had to wake us up.

  He didn’t even cry when I left—thanks to two more chicken cookies.

  When I stepped outside I was surprised to see Aunt Pamela’s blue Volkswagen waiting for me.

  “What’s going on?” I asked her.

  “No emergency. I just came to pick you up. I thought I’d take you to … retrieve some of your things from the house.”

  “Retrieve some of my things?” I repeated, suspicious. “What’s going on, Aunt Pam? Spill.”

  She frowned at me and shot me a sideways look as she put the car into gear. “Your father got the final word from the inspector today. The house is … that is to say, you won’t be returning …”

  “Aunt Pam!” I broke in. “Please just tell me what’s going on.”

  “All right. But I’m afraid it’s bad news. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but the house has been condemned.”

  “What do you mean, condemned?” I said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully, like I’d just learned how to talk.

  Aunt Pam kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead, even though we were approaching a red light. Finally, she turned to face me. “The fire department said there was just too much damage. They brought in a home inspector … and, well … it seems it would cost a lot more to bring it up to code than the property is actually worth.”

  My chest felt tight. It had been a small, old house, sure, but it was our house. And now it was all gone forever. My room. My closet. The spot on the stairway where I liked to sit and read and think about things. The little back porch, where Mel and I used to lounge in the summer, painting our toenails. All of it … gone.

  “How … ?”

  I guess I’d started to ask, how could something like this happen?—but I couldn’t get the rest of the words out past the giant lump in my throat.

  “Cecilia, it will all be okay. I promise. You know you and your father can stay with me for as long as you need to.”

  I knew she was telling the truth. But it wasn’t a truth I wanted to hear. I just wanted to go home, and have the chance to bring Potato there, too.

  Aunt Pam didn’t have much to say after that. She drove me back to our old house, and I packed up as much as I could. Most everything in my room was wet or damp and covered in a layer of ash. Nothing had burned up, but it was pretty clear that a lot of my clothes were done for. Everything white or light-colored was definitely a loss.

  Dad had gone to the pack-and-ship place to get boxes, and he came in the front door, shuffling his feet and looking defeated.

  “Your aunt told you the news?” Dad asked me.

  Part of me wanted to tell him that I wished he had been the one to tell me about the house. Somehow Dad always managed to get out of doing the hard stuff. But he looked so down I couldn’t bring myself to say it. So I settled for saying, “Yes. I can’t believe that’s it—no more house.”

  “I’m so sorry, C.” Dad’s eyes met mine for just a moment before he turned and walked into his room. I took two boxes from the pile Dad had brought in and went back to my room to finish packing and clean up.

  But first, I had to find the list of reasons I deserved a dog—the list I had been planning to show Dad. I found it lying on my desk, balled it in my fist, and threw it in the trash.

  I thought my week couldn’t get any worse, but man, was I wrong.

  I was sitting alone at lunch the next day when I felt a tap on my elbow. I turned around to see Eric Chung standing there with his tray. I choked on the sandwich I’d bitten into and Eric helpfully whacked me on the back.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. Why was it that every time I saw Eric Chung he was having to check to see if I needed to go to the hospital?

  I coughed and nodded. I had no idea why he was there when his popular friends were across the cafeteria. I tried to think of something to say.

  “I played kickball with your sister yesterday,” I finally told him.

  “Kickball?” Eric looked confused.

  “Yeah, we have math class together.”

  Eric still looked highly confused. “Okay.”

  “We were both in the outfield because we’re not that sporty. I guess you guys aren’t really that much alike.”

  Eric laughed. “You’re right—we are pretty different.” He paused, then added, “Hey, so I just wanted to tell you—my mom and I went by the shelter yesterday, and we found a dog to adopt.”

  “That’s great,” I started to say, and then a flash of fear went through me.

  I heard him continue to talk, but now his voice sounded like it was coming from very far away.

  “Yeah, we found the perfect dog—we even have a lead already on how we might be able to track down his papers. He’s a pug—I guess he’s really been through a lot, but the lady who worked there said you’d been nursing him back to health.”

  Potato.

  Eric Chung had adopted my dog.

  It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. It hurt to breathe. He was still talking, but I wasn’t listening.

  “Potato.” I managed to get just the one word out.

  “Ye
ah—that’s the one! That’s a cute name, did you give it to him? Of course he’ll need a show name, but since he seems to respond to Potato, we’ll probably keep it for his nickname. They said he needed some more recovery time but we could take him home next week.”

  “Hold on.” My head was still spinning. I couldn’t process this. “You adopted Potato?” I was standing up. For the first time in my life I really kind of wanted to smack somebody.

  “That’s what I’ve been telling you …” Eric sounded so calm. It made the whole thing worse somehow.

  “He was supposed to … I was going to …”

  But I couldn’t finish the sentence. There was no getting around the fact that I was living with my allergic aunt. It didn’t matter how much I wanted Potato to be my dog.

  But oh, how I wanted that to be true. It was silly, but I had never felt such a strong connection with a pup before, and I knew that if I could, I’d give him the best home ever.

  And of all the people to adopt him, did it have to be Eric Chung? It just wasn’t fair. Potato wasn’t cut out for show business. What if his dog-show preparations got in the way of his recovery?

  Still, I knew that deep, deep down, I couldn’t deny Potato a loving home. But I wasn’t going to stick around for Eric to rub it in my face.

  “I was hoping you could help with …” Eric started to say, but I turned on my heel and was already out the cafeteria doors before I could hear him finish.

  * * *

  I didn’t know how substitute teacher Chip was getting away with it. But in math class he announced that we weren’t even bothering with the seven-minute fractions charade today. No, we were headed right outside for more kickball.

  Lily was absent that day, which left me alone in the outfield, fuming. I was relieved she wasn’t there, actually. I would certainly have spilled out all my frustration about Eric and Potato and the dog show stuff, and she might not have taken to that so kindly.

  * * *

  Finally, the class ended and Chip called us back inside. I pulled myself together and put on my brave face, as my aunt always called it. My next class was history. I sat in the back (of course). Eric wasn’t in class, just like Lily hadn’t been in math/kickball.