Sit, Stay, Love

by J. J. Howard

  I curled into a ball on top of the quilt on my borrowed bed, still in my pretty new dress. There in the dark I was finally able to admit the truth. The whole night had made me feel just a little bit like Cinderella. After all, I’d busted out of my usual life of cleaning up after the puppies at O.P. Wearing the new dress and makeup, and especially dancing with Eric, had been almost exactly like a fairy tale.

  But my Cinderella moment was over. I knew that my carriage had just turned back into a pumpkin.

  I’d thought maybe I was changing. But I guessed I was still the weird turtle girl after all.

  I’d also begun to think that maybe I’d been wrong about Eric. But now I realized that I’d been right at first when I decided that he was an arrogant jerk.

  It was the shoes that gave me away.

  I walked to Orphan Paws on Monday morning; we had the day off from school because of a teacher meeting.

  Lori took one look at my melancholy face and knew not to ask me how the dance went. She simply gave me a huge hug and told me I could go home if I wanted to. But the last thing I wanted to do was sit alone in my tiny room replaying the scene at the end of the dance. So I asked for a job and she gave me one: inventorying the medical supplies in the back closet.

  Once I removed everything from the shelves, I let myself get lost in counting the boxes of gauze and bandages and antiseptics. The shelves were pretty dusty, and I was sneezing a lot. I went into the restroom and grabbed a handful of toilet paper to stuff in my pocket for when my nose started running.

  I don’t know how much time passed before Lori came back and said, “Cecilia, you have a visitor.”

  I rounded the corner into the intake room of the shelter and there was Eric Chung.

  Lori stood there smiling, but there was a tightness behind it, as if she knew Eric might have been the cause of my bad mood. “Your helper’s back!” she announced in a failed attempt to make things not awkward. “Let me know if you need me,” she whispered to me, then quickly left the room.

  Eric was holding up my strappy black shoes. “Lose something?”

  I tried to snatch them away from him, but he held them up higher than my reach for some reason. Still looking at me, in all my toilet-paper-in-pocket glory, he said in a quieter voice, “I was right, then. You heard.”

  “Of course I heard. You know I was there. You’re holding my shoes.”

  “I was bringing them back to you,” he said. “But mostly I came to apologize.”

  “Okay.” I turned away and started throwing the toilet paper into the nearest trash can. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. But thank you for bringing them, I guess.”

  “How did you get all the way home without your shoes?”

  I felt a surge of anger. “What do you care how I got home? I’m just your sister’s weird friend, remember?”

  “Cecilia, I’m really sorry.” He took a step forward, but then stopped, looking like he didn’t know what to do. Which was strange since Eric Chung never looked like that, except for the one time he’d asked me for help with Potato. “I—I didn’t think you’d be there listening. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just … it’s sometimes hard to explain to my friends about my dog show life. They tease me a lot, and I—I just didn’t want to explain how we know each other, and that I am training yet another dog. Another dog? they’d say.”

  My mind flashed to the several times that Mel and my dad had all said the exact same thing to me.

  “And the weird comment … the guys were just joking around so I went along with it. I didn’t mean … it’s just, actually, I like that you can be weird, Cecilia. You’re … different from any other girl. You’re really … cool.”

  He was staring into my eyes, which was making it hard to pretend that I was fine. I couldn’t tell if he was being honest or if he was just trying to guarantee that he still had someone to help him with Potato.

  But then I heard his voice on repeat in my head saying, She’s just a friend of my sister’s. Here I’d been thinking maybe we could be more than friends—and Eric didn’t even think of me as his friend.

  “You didn’t hurt my feelings,” I lied. “I’m one hundred percent fine. So you can leave the shoes and go. Since Lily and I are friends, we’ll probably have to see each other again. But we don’t have to be friends. We’ll be …” I trailed off, thinking of the right word.

  “Civil?” He sort of smiled when he said it, but it was a strange smile. Not a happy one.

  It took me a few seconds to respond. “Yeah. Civil. Fantastic. That. Let’s be civil.” I turned to go back to my inventory closet, but he put a hand on my arm to stop me.

  “Cecilia, wait.”

  I turned back around. I realized he still had the shoes so I held out a hand for them without looking at him. I was too embarrassed at this point to make eye contact. When the shoes didn’t show up, I raised my head in confusion.

  He exhaled loudly. “I was really hoping you could forgive me for being such a jerk. Maybe someday you will. I’m not going to stop trying to get you to. Because … I … we … Potato and I still really need your help.”

  Potato. I was tempted to back out of our deal, but the image of my dad lying on the couch, depressed, flickered into my head, reminding me of why I had agreed to help Eric in the first place. I also couldn’t bear the thought of losing my Potato forever.

  “I know. You do need my help,” I said coolly. Then another question occurred to me, a question I hadn’t asked because I was worried he’d get mad. But now that we weren’t friends, what was stopping me?

  “Why do you care about this so much?” I demanded. “Honestly. Why does Potato have to be paraded around a bunch of snobs, and measured, and poked, and prodded? Why can’t you just love him? If I could have kept him …” My voice caught, and I stopped talking.

  Eric frowned, looking down. He took a deep breath and let it out. He looked conflicted. “The very first dog we ever adopted was a rescue dog. His name was Porkchop, and I loved him. But then my parents started getting into the dog-show business, and all of a sudden we had a bunch of fancy, expensive dogs in the family, too.” He paused and ran a hand through his dark hair. “We love all of the dogs we have, but a part of me always felt that my parents loved Porkchop less because he never competed. And, well, Porkchop died a few months ago, and my parents didn’t even seem that sad about it. So when I adopted Potato, I wanted to prove to my parents that rescue dogs are worthy of love, too. And I know that the only way to do it is to have him win a dog show. For me. And for Porkchop.”

  I stared at Eric, unsure of what to say. He had laid everything on the table, and I knew he was telling the truth. But I couldn’t quite reconcile the two Erics that stood before me: the jerk who’d mocked me with his friends, and this sweet dog lover who wanted to make an important point.

  I definitely didn’t want to prove to his parents that rescue dogs were somehow less than purebreds. Plus, there was still a cash prize on the line, and I wasn’t ready to let that go. I, too, had a point I needed to make. A point to my dad, that I could help him and help our family.

  “I’m also concerned,” Eric continued, “that if Potato isn’t dog show material, they’ll make me give him up. They let me adopt him under the condition that I take full responsibility for him. They were really hesitant about it, though, so I worry that if Potato doesn’t earn his keep in the dog-show circuit, he might no longer have a space in the Chung household. I know this would be important to you since you want him to have a home, but it’d be good for me, too—I’m growing pretty attached to the little guy.”

  My heart broke a little at the thought of Potato having to move out of his comfy surroundings. Of course I’d want Potato to keep his home, even if it was with Eric.

  “So … is our deal still on?” Eric seemed uncomfortable with my silence. I realized then that I had not yet confirmed or denied whether I was backing out.

  I closed my eyes, cringing. Helping Eric was the last thin
g I wanted to do, but I had too many other reasons to keep going.

  “Our deal is still on,” I confirmed, opening my eyes.

  He looked relieved. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow after school?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Now please go away.”

  Eric gave me one last look, one I couldn’t figure out, before he did what I asked.

  Lori popped back in seconds later, taking in my distraught expression.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, coming over. “I knew I shouldn’t have let him in. Do I need to knock some sense into that boy?” Lori balled up her fists, which were decorated with several pretty rings, and started boxing at the air.

  I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. “No, it’s fine, Lori.” I thought for a moment. “Have you ever had to do something you didn’t want to do but did it anyway because you knew you had to?” I knew I wasn’t being super clear, but I was hoping Lori understood me all the same.

  “All the time, kid, all the time.” Lori dropped her fists and looked at me sympathetically. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, and I don’t want you to tell me if you’re not comfortable. But I want you to know that you’re awesome. And whoever can’t see that doesn’t deserve you in their life.”

  I nodded, blushing a little. “Thanks, Lori.”

  “It’s really too bad about that boy, though,” Lori added. “At first I thought it was really sweet—him bringing you the shoes you left at the dance. Sort of like Cinderella.”

  I shook my head at her, then rolled my eyes for emphasis. “He was not being Prince Charming, I promise you.”

  Lori gave a short laugh, then darted out of the room. From the delighted barks I heard from the front, I was guessing the dogs were happy to see Lori again. She was the kind of person who made every place she went just a little brighter.

  I turned back to finish up the inventory, but my mind kept wandering. As heartfelt as the Porkchop story was, could Eric just be using me to turn Potato into a superstar? Would he and I ever be real friends?

  And why did I care so darn much?

  Potato time

  Money for Dad

  Eric is not as bad as I thought

  “So it’s called the what now?” I asked Eric.

  “The Southern Connecticut Association Rally …”

  “It’s called SCAR? Seriously?”

  “You didn’t let me finish … it’s the Southern Connecticut Association Rally and Dog Show. So that would be SCARDS, which isn’t a thing. Besides, they don’t use the letters anyway.”

  “So Potato is signed up for this whole thing already?” I asked doubtfully. “It sounds like a big deal.”

  “He’s going to compete in the show portion. I told you, I decided that Potato won’t be competing in the rally part again this time.” Eric was using his patient voice, which made me want to strangle him even more. Even several days after the dance, I could still feel tension between us. My defenses were way up. I tuned back in to what Eric was saying. “Potato needs to build up some more muscle tone.”

  I sighed and looked back into Lily’s bedroom, where she sat cross-legged on her floor. I’d come over after school to do homework with her and also see Potato. Now being cornered by Mr. Dog Show was super annoying.

  “I was thinking we could get back to training,” Eric continued.

  “Sure,” I said, swallowing all the mean thoughts that came through my head. I knew I had agreed to help, but I was still resentful of everything that had happened between Eric and me. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Okay,” Eric said carefully, looking like he didn’t want to press his luck.

  When he was gone, I walked back into Lily’s room and threw myself down onto the spare bed. “What happened between you two?” Lily asked, looking up from the book she was reading.

  “What do you mean?” I sat up and pretended that finding my pencil was a very difficult job that took all my attention.

  “I thought you guys were getting to be friends, maybe. Eric would even joke around with you. He doesn’t do that with everybody. But then since the dance, he’s back to being all awkward with you. And you seem mad at him. Did he do something?”

  I’d come up with the magical excuse of a stomach virus to explain my quick getaway from the Spring Bash, which apparently, Lily had bought. Now I just had to get her off the trail of figuring out why I was mad at her brother.

  “No, he didn’t do anything.”

  “Are you sure? Because if you want me to talk to him …”

  “No! I mean, you don’t need to! I’m fine. He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.” The rush of words that came out clearly startled Lily.

  She stared. “Yeah, because you sound really super fine right now. What’s wrong?”

  I threw myself back against the bed again. As much as I wanted to confide in Lily, the fact was, I couldn’t. She was Eric’s twin sister. I didn’t want to put her in the middle like that. I had a feeling she might even be really mad at her brother if I told her the whole story, and I didn’t want to cause a fight. “Nothing. I’m just being dramatic,” I told her.

  “Okay. I guess tell me when you’re ready.” Lily slammed her textbook shut. “Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked me.

  I nodded and pushed thoughts of Eric way into the back of my mind. For the moment, I tried to simply enjoy snuggling with Potato in front of Lily’s TV.

  * * *

  On Wednesday morning, at my locker, Lily asked me to stay over on the weekend again.

  “There’s a carnival coming to the mall in Winchester!” she announced.

  “A carnival?”

  “It’s just one of those little traveling ones. I saw the signs for it when I was shopping with my mom the other day. We have to go—I’m dying for some cotton candy.”

  I laughed at how excited Lily seemed to be about cotton candy. “Do they have rides?”

  “Of course! And, as mentioned before, cotton candy.”

  I hesitated, thinking about what it would be like to spend that much time with Eric. But the notion of getting to see Potato, and hang out with Lily, was too compelling. I could just ignore Eric.

  “Just ignore him,” Mel had advised when we’d Skyped yesterday. I’d filled her in on the whole drama at the dance, and Mel had been sympathetic. Then she’d also cheered me up with some good news: She’d be coming back to visit soon! She had spring break and had convinced her parents that they needed to spend time back in their old hometown.

  Now the thought of Mel getting to meet Lily—and Potato—brightened my spirits enough to answer Lily in an upbeat way.

  “I’m in,” I said. “As long as I can get a ride over there? My dad’s got a case and he’s been working all the time.” Despite the extra hours he’d been putting in lately, my dad seemed to be in better spirits, so I was hoping his job was stressing him out less.

  “Sure,” Lily said. “My mom or dad can drive you. They both think you’re great, you know! They’re always saying how you’re so much more polite than any of my other friends.”

  Great, I thought wryly. So all the members of the Chung family liked me. Except, of course, Eric.

  * * *

  The next night, I was putting clothes into my old backpack as Dad sat on the edge of the bed pretending to decide whether or not to let me stay over at the Chungs’ again this weekend. I pretty much knew he’d let me, since it was a social thing, and he’d been trying to get me to do social things forever. But since I was over there a lot, he seemed to think the code of parenting included a rule that he had to protest spending so much time apart from his beloved child.

  “Are you sure they don’t mind you being over there so often?” Dad was asking, for the second time.

  “They invited me,” I told him (also a rerun).

  Dad sighed and paused for a second. “I’m sorry we’re stuck here at Aunt Pam’s, C.”

  I dropped the jeans I’d been folding. “What?”

  “I’m sorry we have
to stay here and mooch off your aunt. It wasn’t my plan.”

  I sat down beside him. “It’s fine—where’s this coming from?”

  Dad gave me a sad look. “I heard you. The night we went to Chili’s. Talking to Mel on Skype.”

  I felt a wave of shame wash over me, and my face felt hot. What could I say? I had complained about getting stuck with Aunt Pamela. But I didn’t mean for him to hear that. I was just getting stuff off my chest. This must mean he also heard what I said about him not having enough money, I thought grimly.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I really am. It just … it was really hard losing our house. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

  To my shock, Dad looked like he had tears in his eyes. “I’m not telling you this because I’m mad at you. I really am sorry we lost the house, too, and that this was the best I could do right now. Like I said, none of this was in the plan.”

  I looked at him for a few seconds. Dad had been so grumpy and sit-aroundy for so long, I had to admit it was a little surprising to hear him talk this way.

  “The house wasn’t anybody’s fault,” I said softly. “But … Dad, can I ask, what was your plan?”

  He leaned back against the wall. “The plan was for me to make a go of it as a lawyer. Not to make less money than I did as a teacher. I want to provide a good home for you, and I feel terrible that I haven’t been able to do that. I’m sorry we’ve had to stay at your aunt’s for so long.”

  “Oh.” This was a lot of information to take in.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to lay all this heavy stuff on you. Money shouldn’t be your worry.”

  “You can tell me what’s going on. I’m not a baby anymore,” I reminded him.