Sit, Stay, Love

by J. J. Howard

  * * *

  When we got there, we ordered plates and plates of food. My dad brought out a deck of cards, and we played a card game he had taught me when I was really little. I told him about Lily, and about how our substitute teacher, Chip, got busted for letting us play kickball during class. Several potato skins later, I was in a happy food coma. My happiness was cut short, however, as soon as it was time to settle the bill.

  “I’m so sorry,” I heard the waitress saying to my dad in a low voice. “Your card has been declined. Do you happen to have another one you could use?”

  “Oh, of course,” my dad said, his cheeks turning beet red. “Sorry about that.” He dug through his wallet and passed the waitress another card.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked Dad as the waitress walked away. I already knew the answer. I had watched enough TV shows to know what it meant when a card was declined. It meant we didn’t have enough money to pay for our meal.

  “Nothing at all, sweetheart,” my dad replied. “There was probably just some mix-up at the bank. No need to worry.” But it was clear from his expression that there was a need to worry. His brow was furrowed and his shoulders slouched.

  The second card Dad gave the waitress thankfully went through, and soon we were on our way out.

  We drove home in silence, but my mind was racing. It was heartbreaking to see my dad so stressed out. I wished I could help him, but every time I tried to think of ways I could do that, I kept drawing a blank. If only loving dogs could earn me money, I thought.

  * * *

  Potato was due to be taken home by his new family the next day. So as we drove back to Aunt Pam’s from dinner, I begged Dad to drop me off at the shelter and let me use my key to go in and visit Potato. Dad reluctantly agreed, but said he’d pick me up in an hour.

  At night, with nobody else around, I found myself telling Potato everything again, and just like always, he was the perfect listener. I told him about dinner with Dad and fed him the bites of cheese I’d smuggled in a napkin inside my coat pocket.

  “I still can’t believe they’re going to try to turn you into a show dog,” I told Potato. He was moving more easily now, since his injuries were healing. He answered by rolling over onto his back and wriggling a little. When I didn’t pet his stomach fast enough he even gave a tiny, indignant bark.

  As I scratched his belly I thought about his future career. I shuddered to think of my little ugly-cute man prancing around a ring, being called a stupid name like Pinecone Happytoes McNally or something.

  “Even if I can’t adopt you,” I told him, “I’m going to do my very best to save you from all of that.”

  Chicken-flavored cookies

  Hamburger grease

  Cheese (preferably in small chunks)

  Potato didn’t seem to mind my tears, even though some of them were landing on top of his furry head.

  Today was the day the Chungs were coming to get him.

  Lori said she was going to let me have some time alone with him since they were coming around five to pick him up.

  “Someday you’ll get to have a dog of your own,” Lori promised, putting her arm around me. Today she was wearing a white dress with gray French bulldogs all over it. I knew it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn the bulldogs were all staring at me with scrunchy-faced looks of sympathy.

  “I don’t want a dog. I want this dog,” I said, sniffling and patting Potato’s head.

  She didn’t say anything else, just nodded and disappeared into the back.

  Potato and I were sitting on the floor as usual. I traced the little darker patches of fur above his eyes. I kissed the side of his face, where the fur was the softest. Potato looked into my eyes. He knew something was wrong.

  How could I let him go?

  The bell over the front door rang.

  I looked up and saw Eric first. He was, randomly, holding a potted plant.

  I felt immediately embarrassed; I was sure my eyes were puffy and red.

  Eric’s mom was with him. She was dressed in a very expensive-looking light-blue suit. She looked out of place in Orphan Paws.

  Lori came out of the back, frowning. She whispered an apology to me as she took Potato from my arms and put him up on one of the exam tables. My heart sank. Lori started talking to Mrs. Chung about how he’d been doing in his recovery and gave her some medicine. I stayed rooted to the floor, too miserable to move.

  Eric bent down and held the potted plant out to me. Without thinking, I took it from him. When I looked down, I saw it was a cactus—one of those that sort of look like they’re growing a brain on the top. I looked back up at him in confusion.

  “I got it for you,” he said. He wasn’t quite meeting my eyes. “Sort of like a thank-you. For taking care of him and everything. I was going to get flowers, but then I remembered you said that cut flowers made you sad because they can’t keep growing.”

  I stared at him, now completely confused. “When did I say that?” My voice came out a little shaky.

  Eric stood up, still not meeting my eyes. He took the cactus from me, put it on a nearby exam table, then reached out a hand and pulled me to my feet.

  “In science class last year, I think.”

  He remembered that? I felt my face redden, though I didn’t know why. I looked over at the cactus, then back at Eric.

  “Well, thanks,” I said hollowly, as if the cactus in any way made up for him taking Potato away. My arms felt empty; I crossed them over my stomach.

  “You can visit him, you know,” Eric said, nodding toward Potato.

  “Thanks,” I said again. I was tempted to take him up on that offer right now, but I knew that it would be just plain weird to go to the Chungs’ house for the express purpose of visiting a dog that never technically even belonged to me.

  I looked over and saw that Lori was putting Potato into a crate for Mrs. Chung. I almost started tearing up again.

  “No, Mom—I’ll hold him,” Eric said, going over to them.

  I picked up my cactus and held the pot against my chest, maybe for something to do, maybe just so I wouldn’t be standing there holding nothing.

  Eric turned toward me, Potato in his arms. The little guy seemed happy enough there. “Do you want to say …”

  I didn’t let him finish the sentence. I shook my head, quickly muttered that I had to go, and ran to the back, still holding my cactus. I didn’t want Eric or his mom to see me cry. I heard the front door bell chime again.

  And then, a second later, I heard one sad cry from Potato when he realized he was going and I was staying.

  * * *

  “Where have you been?” Dad asked when he saw me walk into the living room at Aunt Pam’s.

  “I told you yesterday I was going to the shelter,” I said, maybe a little meaner than I should have.

  Dad blinked and I immediately felt bad. Things were awkward between us since the dinner at Chili’s, and I promised myself that I would try my best to not make him feel any worse about our money/living situation—or feel worse about anything, really.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to sound like that.”

  “What happened?”

  “This dog I really … it doesn’t matter.” I knew it was no use burdening him with my drama, knowing all the other stuff he had to deal with.

  “I know how important the shelter is to you, hon,” Dad said softly. “I just don’t want you missing out on spending time with kids your own age.”

  I sat down on the couch across from him. First Lori, then Mel, now Dad. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on my dog-loving, human-resisting ways. “I know,” I sighed. “Lori and Mel said the same thing. I’ll try to work on it.” And really, I would try, I decided. Now that there was no Potato to visit every single day, my schedule felt more open.

  “All right,” Dad conceded as he heaved himself out of his chair. “Say, what’s with the cactus?” I looked down in surprise to realize I was still clutchin
g Eric Chung’s guilt cactus.

  “A boy gave it to me.”

  “A boy?” Dad’s eyebrows went up.

  “It’s not like that!” I protested, hating that I was blushing again. “Trust me. I don’t even like him. He’s just someone who adopted the dog that …” I trailed off, worried that if I went into more details I’d start crying. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

  “If you say so,” Dad said, giving me a look. He went upstairs to take a shower, and I went to my room to do my homework.

  I put my earphones in, trying to distract myself from remembering Potato’s last, sad little cry. And also from wondering about the cactus, and the boy who’d given it to me.

  Lily met me at my locker after school.

  “Hey,” she said, tossing her glossy black hair over one shoulder. “How have you been?”

  “Okay,” I said. It had been about a week since Potato had been adopted, and despite my plans to interact with people more, I had retreated into my turtle shell and was still spending most of my afternoons at Orphan Paws, meeting new pups and trying very hard not to love them too much. I’d also made a point not to ask Lily about Potato at school—even though I was so curious to know how he was doing, I was worried that if she told me any details, I’d burst into tears or something, or just get angry all over again.

  “So,” Lily went on brightly, “I don’t miss kickball but I do miss hanging out with you on the field.”

  “Me too,” I admitted, and felt my spirits lift a little.

  “Apparently, it was Allie who complained to her parents about the kickball games, can you believe it?” Lily widened her eyes. “Austin and those guys are really mad. But of course they won’t stay mad at her, since she’s so pretty. Isn’t that always the way it goes with guys?” She rolled her eyes. “But, oh my gosh, I’m sorry—I’m probably talking too much!”

  “No, not at all!” I said, amused at her rambling. “I like people who talk a lot. My best friend, Mel, talks constantly.”

  “Oh—Melody Gray—I remember her. She was really nice. I mean—I’m sure she still is! She just moved, right?”

  I nodded. Then, thinking of Mel, and of one of the fun things we used to do, I added, “Do you maybe want to come to Max’s—the diner—with me after school sometime? They have really good milk shakes.”

  “Sure!” Lily didn’t hesitate.

  “Okay, well, how about today?” I asked. You’ve got to get out into the world of people, I could hear Mel telling me, rooting me on. My dad and Lori, too.

  Lily’s face fell. “I can’t—I’m going to the basketball game.” Then she smiled. “Hey—you should come with me!”

  I’m sure my expression gave away my lack of enthusiasm for a basketball game before I had even opened my mouth. But Lily wasn’t finished. “Oh, please come with, Cecilia! I always go, because of my brother, you know—but I sometimes get bored just sitting with my parents.”

  “All right,” I told her, even though the idea of seeing more of Eric Chung was not appealing. “What time does it start?” Sports functions were definitely not my thing, but my thing seemed to consist of only caring for dogs and being a metaphorical turtle, so I figured it’d do me good to give this a try.

  Lily squealed happily. “Yay! My mom’s driving me to the game—we can pick you up. Say at six? You can text me your address.”

  “Sure. Except I don’t actually have a phone.”

  “No worries,” Lily said, pulling her own phone out of her pocket. “I’ll just enter it in mine and then we’ll be set.”

  “It’s 411 Maple Street,” I told her.

  “Okay, see ya then!” Lily waved good-bye cheerfully and walked down the hallway.

  I headed for the door, too, walking fast. I’d need to leave the shelter early to go to the game. I’ll have less time to spend with my Potato, I thought, then realized that Potato wouldn’t be there anyway. Sadness washed over me.

  When I got to Orphan Paws, Mitch was minding the front desk.

  “Hey, Mitch. Where’ s Lori?” I asked.

  “She took a few puppies over to Dr. Prebble to get them checked out.”

  “Oh. Okay. Did she leave anything for me to do?”

  Mitch shook his head. “No, she said you could have the day off. I believe her exact words were ‘She needs to go be a kid for a change.’ ” He winked.

  I laughed. “I’m actually going to a basketball game tonight with my friend Lily.” It felt good to say the words my friend.

  Mitch smiled. “Nice! Sounds fun.”

  “That remains to be seen,” I said doubtfully.

  * * *

  Mrs. Chung picked me up in a shiny silver car. As I stepped out into Aunt Pam’s driveway, I looked into the car’s dark windows, trying to figure out if Eric was there, but it was just Lily. I felt a wave of relief.

  Lily scrambled out of the passenger seat and joined me in the backseat.

  “I’m so excited you’re coming!” she said.

  “I’m glad you’re going with Lily, too, Cecilia,” Mrs. Chung said from the front seat as she drove off. “Mr. Chung and I usually go, but we have a work function to go to tonight. We’ll be there after the game to pick you up. Don’t be late coming out to the parking lot after, Lily,” she added, then smiled fondly at her daughter in the rearview mirror.

  Lily giggled. “I am almost always late. It’s a flaw.”

  I felt a little pang of sadness, seeing how close Lily and her mom were. And apparently, she and Eric were pretty tight, too. It made me think about my mom, and I wondered what she was up to now, in her new life without me and Dad.

  We drove along toward the school, and then I couldn’t hold the question back anymore.

  “How’s Potato?” I burst out.

  Lily glanced at me. I wondered if she realized it was the first time I’d asked about the puppy all week.

  “He’s so cute,” she said. “But Eric hasn’t let me play with him.”

  “Well, Potato needs to rest so he’s fully recovered in time to be trained for the show,” Mrs. Chung explained, changing lanes.

  Trained for the show. The words made my stomach clench.

  “Oh,” I said softly. I’d been right; asking about Potato, imagining him playing with Eric, was just making me feel even sadder.

  “I’m really sorry you can’t have pets where you live,” Lily said. It sounded like she was picking her words carefully.

  “Me too,” I told her, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “You have no idea.”

  “Meanwhile, we’re Pet Central,” Lily said with a sigh. “We have seven dogs! It’s so chaotic. All the barking!”

  I laughed. “I don’t mind some barking.”

  Mrs. Chung dropped us off at the school, and I told myself not to dwell on thoughts of Potato. I thanked Mrs. Chung for the ride, and then Lily and I walked into an almost-empty gym.

  “Are we early?” I asked Lily.

  “Just enough to get good seats,” she answered.

  “Is there really that much to see?” I asked.

  “Well, there’s the game,” she said, sounding amused by my question. “I’m sure something will happen at halftime, too.”

  “Halftime? There’s an intermission?” I looked at my watch, wondering what I’d gotten myself into.

  Lily laughed, but not in a mocking way. “There’s halftime. Intermission is for, like, Broadway shows.” I laughed, too.

  She sat down experimentally on a bleacher, then frowned and moved over a few feet. “This is good.” Lily patted the bleacher beside her and I sat. “Have you seriously never been to a basketball game?”

  I shook my head. “Not much for the sports, you know. I thought you hated them, too.”

  “Well, as long as I don’t have to participate. We’re strictly talking spectating here.”

  “It’s still sports,” I pointed out.

  “Just give it a chance, Cecilia. It might not be as bad as you think.”

  “Okay.” I realiz
ed I’d been sitting with my arms crossed, which I’d read online meant that I was being closed off. “I guess I’ve just been anti-sports since forever—my dad actually used to teach P.E. He tried really hard to make me athletic when I was little, and it was … let’s just say the experiment failed.”

  Lily cocked her head to the side. “I can see where that would make you pretty anti. I think I can kind of understand. You know, being the twin sister of a basketball star … who runs away when balls fly toward her,” she added, smiling.

  “I guess you probably do get it,” I said, smiling back.

  People were starting to come into the gym, and I soon saw that a good chunk of our grade was walking in.

  “So hey, Lily? Does everybody come to basketball games?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “How did I not know that?”

  She did that thoughtful head-tilt-pause of hers again. “I think maybe you’ve been in your own bubble, sort of. With the shelter and everything.”

  I realized in that moment that she was right. Lily Chung was surprisingly insightful.

  I watched as Allie Cross and a gaggle of other popular girls sat down on the bleachers. They waved to Lily, and she waved back.

  “Do you want to sit with them?” I asked, feeling a wave of dread. Lily still always sat with those girls at lunchtime and walked with them between classes. I assumed she must prefer to sit with them at games.

  Lily shrugged. “It’s okay.” She dropped her voice and glanced at me. “Honestly, I could use a little break from them. I mean, they’re my friends, yeah, but sometimes …” She trailed off, and then whispered, “They can be a little snobby.”

  I nodded, relieved that it wasn’t just me (and Mel) who had observed that.

  Lily flicked her hair out of her eyes. “It just gets a little annoying sometimes how Allie always has to be the queen bee, you know? And last year, she and Eric dated, so that was especially annoying.”

  Right. I glanced over at Allie, who was looking in her compact mirror and applying lip gloss. Why did I feel a flash of jealousy?

  The bleachers were filling up fast, and the music that had been playing got louder. I realized the game was about to start.