by Heidi Lang
“What are you doing?”
Jessie turned, and suddenly her bad day got even worse. “Loralee,” she muttered.
“The one and only.” Loralee’s lips turned up in a smile, and Jessie noticed they weren’t as glossy as normal. In fact, Loralee’s whole outfit lacked its usual shine and polish. She was wearing a plain black T-shirt, not even fitted, and a pair of old jeans, her eyes tired and faded without their typical coating of eyeliner and mascara.
Good, Jessie thought vehemently, but she found herself asking, “Is everything OK?” She wasn’t sure why.
“Please. Everything’s fine. It’s always fine. You’re a mess, though.”
“Me? This is how I always look.”
Loralee pursed her lips, then shook her head. “Too easy.” She straightened her shoulders. “I’ve been told that I can sometimes be a little bit mean. Occasionally.”
Jessie stared at her. That was a joke, right? “Sometimes? Loralee, you’re the meanest person I know.”
Loralee’s whole body drooped. “You’re not the first person to tell me that this week,” she whispered, and for a second, she looked like she was going to cry. It was the strangest thing Jessie had ever seen, like a dog learning how to meow. Loralee didn’t have feelings. She didn’t get sad like normal people. She didn’t care if she was mean. Was this some kind of trick?
“I’ve been t-told . . .” Loralee stopped, took a deep breath. “I’ve been told,” she continued in a smoother voice, “that I should be nicer to people. So I’m trying.”
“Are you serious?”
Loralee nodded. “But some people make it really hard.” Her pointed look made it clear that “some people” meant “Jessie.”
“Sorry?”
“No, it’s not your fault. Well, it is your fault. If you weren’t such a strang—such a unique individual . . . but I’m going to be nicer. I really am.” She sighed. “Have you seen Max lately, by the way?”
“Not since yesterday. Why?”
“No reason.” She inspected her nails as if she couldn’t care less, but for once, Jessie could see right through that act. “Just, if you see him again, would you mention that I’m being nicer?”
“Are you?”
“I’m trying!” Loralee snapped. “God, isn’t it supposed to be the thought that counts? Why is everyone so judgmental lately?” And then she did burst into tears.
Jessie gaped, not sure what she should do. She thought of her list of ways to get revenge on Loralee, but watching her cry didn’t make Jessie feel any better. “H-hey, it’s OK.”
“How do you know? You don’t know anything,” Loralee bawled. “You’re just a child.”
That brought back Jessie’s anger. “I’m not the one crying like a baby.”
Loralee’s eyes widened in surprise, and she hiccuped, her tears slowing. Carefully, she wiped her face on the end of her T-shirt. “Anyway,” she managed, her voice hitching, “I really am trying to be nicer. I’m sorry if you were upset before by anything that I said.”
Jessie frowned. “Don’t you mean you’re sorry you said mean things to me?”
“Same thing.”
“Not exactly,” Jessie said, but looking at Loralee, at her red eyes and blotchy skin and badly fitting clothes, she realized this was the closest thing to an apology she was going to get. She sighed. “I don’t know why Max would tell you to be nicer, though. He sure isn’t.”
“Are you talking about the whole standing you up thing?” Loralee asked softly. “Because . . . that was my fault.” She sniffed. “I didn’t like him spending so much time with you. I told him he had to choose.”
“Why?”
She rubbed her nose and looked away. “He liked you,” she said. “I could tell.”
Jessie’s jaw dropped. That almost sounded like Loralee . . . was jealous. Of her? “But, he liked you more.”
“Well, obviously.” She tossed her hair back.
Jessie shook her head. She couldn’t muster up the energy to be angry with Loralee anymore. Besides, Max had made his choice. He could have told Loralee no, and he didn’t.
“I’m on my way to see Ann-Marie.” Loralee sniffed again. “What are you doing?”
Jessie wavered, then admitted, “I’m trying to find a spare key so I can break into Wes’s house.”
Loralee’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting. Did you check under his flowerpots?”
“Obviously.”
“Welcome mat? Window ledge? Large rocks? Under the stairs?”
Jessie scowled. “I did.” She was seriously regretting telling Loralee anything.
“What about there?” Loralee pointed.
“Where?” Jessie frowned, trying to follow, but all she saw was Wes’s tea mug and . . . “Oh, for the love of dog,” she whispered.
Loralee snorted, then put a hand over her face. “I’m sorry. I promised I’d be nicer, but seriously, Jessie? You make it almost impossible not to make fun of you.”
But for once, Jessie didn’t care. Loralee could make fun of her all she wanted, because Jessie was pretty sure she’d just discovered the spare key’s hiding spot. Right there in plain sight. She walked up the three steps to the front porch, picked up the empty mug, and flipped over the coaster.
And there it was, dull and burnished and unmistakably a key.
CHAPTER 34
Jessie crept back down the stairs, the key gripped so hard in her hand it was shaking.
“Well? Aren’t you going to use it?” Loralee asked. “Also, why do you want to break into Wes’s house? He’s such a weirdo.” She paused. “Unique individual.”
“Do you still want me to tell Max you’re nicer?”
“Yes. I mean, just if it happens to come up.”
“Why?”
Loralee grimaced. “No reason.”
Jessie stared at her, at this new, sadder, less-glossy version, and she realized, “He broke up with you?” So much for Ann’s theory that Loralee would get tired of Max first. Had he ditched Loralee because she was so mean? Mean to her? Jessie’s heart beat a little faster, and she remembered how he’d tried to apologize, to explain . . . but it didn’t matter. He could break up with Loralee a hundred times and it wouldn’t make up for what he’d done.
Loralee’s nostrils flared. “Boys don’t break up with me,” she snapped. “It’s just a misunderstanding. He’ll get over it.”
Jessie looked down at the key in her hand and up at Wes’s house. She had a plan, but she needed Loralee’s help. Jessie shook her head. What was the world coming to when a person needed to rely on Loralee? This was all Wes’s fault. He’d stolen Hazel, and that had thrown everything off. It was like Jessie’s whole life had become a picture that was just a little out of focus. Sighing, she said, “If you do me one favor, just one small favor, then I’ll tell Max how much nicer you’ve been.”
“Really?” Loralee said. “You’d do that?”
“I would,” Jessie said reluctantly, and then she told Loralee the plan. A dog’s future was at stake, and that was more important than her revenge on Loralee, or Max’s cute fox smile, or anything else.
Knock, knock, knock.
Jessie waited around the back of the house. It felt weird not being the one knocking at Wes’s door for once, but she had to admit Loralee had the knocking down much better. Somehow, when Loralee knocked, it sounded demanding and impatient, like you’d better answer that door, or else. Even Wes wouldn’t be able to resist.
“Go away, kid,” Wes hollered.
“Mr. Kowalski?” Loralee asked, her voice loud enough to carry to the back of the house. “Mr. Kowalski, I need to speak with you.”
Jessie heard the sound of the front door opening and the mumble of voices. She had to act, and fast.
Carefully, she fit the key into the lock of the back door, turned it, and eased the door open. Then she crept inside Wes’s house.
He still had all the blinds drawn, but there was a light on next to his chair in the living room. She saw a
throw blanket and a book, but no dog. Frowning, Jessie slipped further into the house, glad she was out of sight from the entryway. She glanced at the kitchen up ahead, then turned right, went down a short hall, and stopped in front of a closed door. She hesitated for just a second and then opened it.
She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light filtering in, for the shapes in front of her to resolve themselves into a bed and a dresser. And there, in the far corner . . . a kennel.
Jessie hurried forward and opened the door. Hazel lifted her little snout.
“Shh, shh, don’t do it,” Jessie whispered, petting the dog. “Don’t howl.” She picked Hazel up, then slipped out of the room and crept toward the back door. She was so close. She reached for the doorknob.
“ . . . not going to buy anything, you hear me? Now go away.” Wes slammed the front door.
Hazel let out a loud, long howl.
Jessie’s heart stopped beating and then slammed faster into her rib cage to make up for missed time. She grabbed the door handle and turned it just as Wes flew into the room. She froze, half in and half out of the house.
Wes’s eyes were wide, but he just stood there. “Don’t,” was all he said, before Jessie turned and ran out of the house, Hazel secure in her arms. She sprinted all the way down the stairs and back into the street, but Wes never caught her. He didn’t even try.
“Whoa, did you just steal a dog from him?” Loralee asked.
“Thanks for your help, gotta run!” Jessie called as she zipped past Loralee.
“Oooowooooo,” Hazel sang, squirming.
“Don’t forget your promise!” Loralee yelled after her.
Jessie ran down the street as fast as she could with an increasingly irritated dog in her arms. It seemed to take forever, but eventually she got to Hazel’s house, and her steps slowed, then stopped.
She stared up at the brick front. It looked bigger today, more intimidating, and Jessie realized she had no idea what to do. Should she just ring the doorbell? Tell Diana she found her dog? Wait and see if Wes showed up and stopped her?
Why hadn’t he shown up to stop her? He had to know what she was going to do.
“Oowoo?”
“I know, Hazel. It’s your home,” Jessie whispered, giving Hazel’s wolfy head a quick kiss.
“Jessie?”
Jessie turned. “Oh. Um, hi Monique.”
Monique looked terrible. Her hair was coming out of its braids, her eyes were red and swollen, and even Jessie could tell that her clothing didn’t match. Purple should not be worn with orange. “Oh my god, Jessie, did you find her?” Monique stumbled closer, her hands reaching for Hazel.
Jessie wasn’t sure what to do, so she let Monique take the dog.
Monique’s whole face crumpled, and she hugged Hazel to her chest, her shoulders shaking. And Jessie realized: Monique was crying. Not just a few tears but full body sobbing. Jessie felt awful, like she’d swallowed a whole jar of spiders.
“Oh, thank you, thank you,” Monique sobbed, wiping her face on her sleeve. “I’ve been searching everywhere. I thought maybe she’d show up somewhere near her house, so I’ve been circling here, too. I just, I feel so, so bad.” She sniffed. “I’m getting out of the biz. You can tell Wes. I’m done. I d-don’t deserve to b-be a dog walker.” Her eyes teared up again and she thrust Hazel back at Jessie, then walked away.
“Ooowoo.” Hazel stared at Jessie with those big brown eyes, and for once Jessie didn’t see entitlement in them. She saw accusation.
Jessie bit her lip. The spiders in her stomach grew until she thought she might be sick. This was what she’d wanted. This was what she’d been working for. Monique out of the business, Wes back, everything the way it was supposed to be, right? Then why didn’t it feel right?
Her fault.
Jessie had done this to Monique. She had sabotaged Monique’s business, had stolen her key, had set Wes up to take Hazel. It all led back to Jessie.
Jessie was a meaner person than Loralee could ever hope to be.
CHAPTER 35
Diana opened her door slowly, her eyes staring through Jessie.
“Owoooooo! Ooooowooooo!” Hazel squirmed free from Jessie’s arms and leapt straight at Diana, who caught her midair.
“H-Hazel? Hazel!” Diana laughed and hugged the pup like she’d never let her go again while Hazel howled and bathed Diana’s face in wolfy kisses. When Diana finally set her down, Hazel danced around her feet, curled tail wagging, and something inside Jessie softened. This was right. This felt right.
Then Diana hugged her, which didn’t feel right at all. “You found her. Thank god you found her.” She squeezed Jessie like a juice box before finally letting her go. “I am so sorry I ever switched from Wes. That Monique is terrible, and I never should have listened to her. Isn’t that right, Hazel?” Diana crouched down and scratched Hazel behind the ear, her expression hardening. She reminded Jessie of a battle-ax, all steel and sharp angles. “I’m telling everyone.” Diana straightened. “No one is going to want Monique to walk their dogs anymore.”
Jessie swallowed hard. She thought of Monique crying over Hazel, so relieved she’d been found. Then she thought of Wes, of how broken he’d been when all his dogs had started leaving him. If she told the truth, Monique’s reputation would be cleared . . . but Wes’s would be ruined.
Jessie clutched the banister next to her. She felt dizzy.
“Are you OK, honey? Do you want something? Maybe something to eat or drink? And of course, there’s the reward money. Truly, I can’t even tell you how grateful I am.”
Jessie closed her eyes. She was the worst. The absolute worst. “N-no. You sh-shouldn’t be grateful.” Her tongue felt huge and swollen. She imagined Angel’s tongue lolling out of her own mouth, and somehow that gave her the courage to continue. Calm, confident energy. She opened her eyes, looked Diana full in the face. “It was my fault. Not Monique’s.”
“What?” Diana blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I stole your dog.”
Diana went still. “You? Stole? My dog?” she managed, her voice shaking.
“Y-yes.” Some of Jessie’s borrowed confidence deserted her, and she inched backward on the top step.
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“Because . . . because . . . I didn’t think you deserved her.” Now that the words had started, they just flooded right out of Jessie’s mouth. “You leave Hazel with Wes all the time, and Wes loves her, and she loves him, and everyone was happy. But then you took her away from him for your own selfish reasons. You didn’t care what was best for Hazel, and it totally crushed Wes, so . . . so I took her. So you’d see what it feels like.”
Diana’s eyes were so wide the whites showed all around them.
Jessie took a step back, her heel hanging off the edge of the top step. “But,” she whispered, suddenly empty, “I brought her back. Because she missed you. And I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?” Diana screeched. “Get off my porch, you horrible child! I don’t know what Wes was thinking, letting you help him, but you can bet he won’t let you near any of his dogs now.”
Jessie staggered back as if struck. She hadn’t considered that, but, of course, Wes wouldn’t be able to let her help anymore. She was a known dognapper now, public enemy number one to the canine nation. She’d never be able to walk dogs here again.
CHAPTER 36
“Jessie?” Ann asked softly. “Jessie, are you OK?”
“I’m great,” Jessie said into her pillow. “I’m never getting out of bed again, but I’m great.” After dinner yesterday, her aunt had gotten a phone call. Someone told her all about Jessie stealing a dog. Of course, then her father had to be told, and Jessie was forced to suffer through a very depressing phone call home in which he said it seemed like she wasn’t ready for the responsibility of having a dog of her own. When it was over, she’d gone to bed and hadn’t moved since.
Now that she was awake, sh
e could tell Saturday morning was going to be beautiful. Already, sunlight was doing its best to filter in through Ann’s curtains. Traitorous sunlight. It didn’t belong here.
“Jessie, you could just tell the truth,” Ann said. “We both know you didn’t steal Hazel. Wes did.”
“No,” Jessie said. “I’m taking that secret to the grave with me. And so are you. You promised, Ann-Marie.”
Ann winced. “Just Ann, please.”
Jessie blinked. “Really?”
Ann shrugged. “It sounds weird when you say it.”
“It sounds weird when anyone says it. Marie is just your middle name.”
“I know.”
Jessie turned back to her pillow.
“Jessie,” Ann sighed.
“Go away.”
“You can’t just hide up here forever.”
“I can hide here for another week. Then Dad will pick me up, and I’ll find a new place to hide.” Jessie could feel Ann hovering, wanting to say more, but in the end, she left her alone. Good, Jessie thought. She deserved to be alone. If it weren’t for her, none of this would have happened.
She thought of her future dog, the dog she’d never have now, and buried her face harder into her pillow.
Jessie wasn’t sure how long she lay like that. She’d planned to lay there forever, but eventually, she really had to pee. And then once she was up, she realized how hungry she was. And then after she ate, she felt too restless to just lay in bed. Ann was out, probably reuniting with Loralee, so Jessie just wandered listlessly around the house until Uncle David stopped her.
“Haven’t seen you with this thing in a while,” he said, holding up her soccer ball. “Maybe it’s about time you took it for a spin?” He tossed it at her.
Jessie caught it automatically. “I don’t know . . .” she began.
“I don’t think Veronica is taking the summer off of soccer practice.”
“Vanessa,” Jessie said automatically, thinking of her old soccer rival. That all seemed so far away and long ago. Still, she found herself walking to the park, her soccer ball tucked under one arm. She might as well do some solo drills. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do. And at least that was one good thing about not getting a dog; she’d have plenty of time to keep training.