How to Outfox Your Friends When You Don't Have a Clue

by Jess Keating

  Mom’s face broke into a wide smile. “I think that’s a lovely idea,” she said. “I know they’re always extremely busy. I can call my friend Kate. She helps run the place. But so you know”—her voice became low—“it won’t be like working at the zoo, okay, kiddo? It’s very hard work, and messy, and the animals you’ll be with won’t have any history of being around people. You’ll have to be extra, extra careful.”

  “I promise,” I said, settling back and snuggling into my jacket. “Thanks!”

  As I watched the trees whip by, I thought about what it might be like to be a grown-up and save things that needed saving. It would probably be the coolest feeling ever, getting to save something that, without you, might not have survived.

  Then I realized that maybe I didn’t need to be a grown-up to save something. There was already a wound in my own life that needed saving, only it wasn’t a paw or a tail or even an animal at all.

  It was a friendship.

  My seat belt tightened as Mom drove faster down the winding highway. Liv and I were like that fox, weren’t we? An unhappy accident—her moving far away so many months ago—had changed things in an instant, like a car hitting an animal. And now we were struggling because we didn’t know how to be friends anymore, just like that fox was struggling to live.

  Mom and her crew had come along to fix him up. But who would fix us up?

  It had to be me.

  Maybe the wildlife rehab place could teach me how.

  Chapter 9

  The teeth of gray squirrels never stop growing.

  —Animal Wisdom

  I had a dream like this once, where my teeth grew and grew and nothing I did could stop them, so eventually I looked like I was part rodent. I wonder if squirrels have stress dreams?

  Sometimes I wonder how grown-ups expect us to stay on top of our lives when there’s so much going on.

  Like, I bet when my parents were my age, their biggest problem was what to pack for lunch or what outfit to wear at the spring fling. (Or whatever they used to call dances back in the olden days. I have no idea. They were probably filmed in black and white though.)

  But to me, it felt like life was full of one problem after another. I couldn’t focus on one thing. Instead I had to juggle everything, like a seal trying to balance five different plastic balls on my nose.

  It was all very stressful.

  One ball on my nose was not letting my friendship with Liv get ruined, despite all the weirdness between us. I hoped that including her in my media project would help, but that wasn’t going to happen until I actually started to work on it.

  When I met Sugar at the zoo after school the next day, I was eager to start my very first documentary lesson. I kept picturing myself as a famous wildlife documentary filmmaker, perched at the top of some ancient tree in the middle of the rain forest so I could film some brand-new species they’d name after me.

  I wonder if they have awards for “Coolest Filmmaker Named after an Anaconda.” Because I would so win that.

  “Okay, sweet pea!” Sugar trilled. She shivered as she stepped in from the cold, unbuttoning her jacket and pulling her fluffy scarf over her head. “I’ve got your camera, and I can show you the ropes today to start! I’m so excited to be helping you!”

  I hoisted the heavy pack from her shoulders. “So where do we start?” I peered at the camera anxiously. It looked expensive, with all sorts of buttons on the sides. I had expected she would bring one of those giant cameras that Grandpa’s camera crew always cart around on their shoulders, but this thing looked teensy in comparison.

  Sugar took the camera from its case and handed it to me. “Start with this!” she said. “This is your new best friend, and it will do all the work for you if you let it!”

  I slipped my hand through the grip and held it up, pretending like I was focusing on Sugar. It felt pretty fun holding such an expensive gadget, even though I had no idea where the on button was. Of course, I completely forgot about the lens cap. Sugar reached up and clicked it off, handing it to me.

  “Throw this in your pocket. I thought we could go around and you could practice using it here, and then I can help you work out any kinks as we go. Sound good? We’ll worry about post later on, when you have footage.” Her usual bubbly attitude seemed shadowed by her businesslike manner.

  “Post?” I asked, lowering the camera.

  She nodded. “That’s postproduction,” she explained. “That’s where I’ll show you how to edit parts of it together, and even add some music if you like.”

  The possibilities grew in my head.

  Ana Wright: Academy Award–Winning Filmmaker…

  Sugar laughed. “If you want to impress your teacher, tell him you’re making a cinema verité.” She drew the words out with a French accent.

  “What’s that?!” I asked. “It sounds like a pastry. A tasty one too.”

  My stomach growled.

  “It means ‘film truth,’ but it’s a fancy way of saying you’re doing a more laid-back type of shooting, with available light, a handheld camera, and all that.”

  “Cinema verité,” I repeated. I liked the sound of that. Now I could get an Academy Award and wear a cool beret to the award ceremony. I’d probably be besties with Anne Hathaway and Jennifer Lawrence before the night was over.

  “You’re going to need to know how to turn this thing on first,” she said. She reached down and pointed out the buttons I would need. “When this light is red, you’re good to go! What do you want to film? We can go anywhere you want!”

  I searched around us for a perfect location. “Why don’t we start in the Marine Adventure Zone?” I asked. “That might give us some cool underwater footage we could use as an opener-type thing?”

  Sugar beamed. “You already sound like a pro. Let’s do it!”

  If there’s anything cooler than seeing sharks and other marine creatures in real life, it’s filming them so other people can see them from your eyes. Ever since Grandpa had helped fund the aquarium and Marine Adventure Zone during the summer, it had been one of the busiest parts of the zoo. I always loved visiting, but honestly, it was almost cooler being able to film it, capturing all the animals forever on video. For once, I could show people exactly what I loved about the place, from my own perspective.

  When Sugar and I stepped into the dreamy, blue exhibit, I made sure to hold my camera steady, panning from left to right slowly. I stumbled over my own feet, so there would definitely be some footage I’d have to take out. A powerful feeling of exhilaration swept through me as I realized everything I was seeing was being filmed as I walked, trapped forever in my camera.

  So much exhilaration, in fact, that I nearly bowled into someone leaning over the tide pool touch tank.

  “Ouch! Watch where you’re—Ana?!”

  I fumbled with my camera, trying to turn it off. “Sorry!” I yelped. Ashley was rubbing her forehead with her palm. “Oh! Hey, I didn’t know you would be here today.”

  Ashley shook her head, eyeing the camera. “Some days you get weirder and weirder, Scales,” she said.

  I rolled my eyes. Ever since Ashley and I had become friends, she’d promised she wouldn’t call me Scales anymore. But that didn’t stop her from saying it “jokingly.”

  “What’s with the camera?” She poked at it in my hand.

  “Have you met Sugar?” I asked, waving Sugar over from her favorite tank of moon jellies.

  Ashley’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as Sugar scuttled over and shoved out her hand. “Pleased to meet you!” Sugar said. “I’m Sugar! Ana’s grandfather’s girlfriend,” she added quickly.

  “Oh!” Ashley squeaked. “You’re like, super gorgeous! You know that, right? Wow…”

  I rolled my eyes as Ashley gawked.

  “What she means is, hello.” I shoved Ashley. To be honest, it was pretty grea
t to introduce Ashley to Sugar, because I knew Sugar was exactly what Ashley wanted to be like when she was older. Picture perfect with the world’s greatest shoes.

  Ashley blushed hot pink. “Sorry…”—she stammered—“I’ve heard a lot about you.” She flipped her hair back coolly. “It’s great to meet you finally.”

  Sugar nodded. “Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart! I’ll give you guys a moment. I want to get a picture of these adorable jellies; I have to every single time I’m in here! Then we can keep going through some exhibits for you, Ana!” She scurried away, leaving Ashley awestruck.

  “Those shoes,” she said, leaning in close to whisper. “I’d seen her around with your Grandpa before, but I’ve never seen her up close. She’s seriously gorge, right?”

  I nodded. “She is. She’s also super nice, and she knows a ton about cameras and filming too.” I grinned as I watched Sugar center her camera phone to snap a photo of the jellies. “I like having her around. She’s helping me with that media project at school.”

  “So that’s what you’re doing with the gadget, huh?” Ashley pointed to my camera as she sat down on the ledge beside the touch tank. She was in her blue volunteer shirt, but the gold hoops in her earlobes made her almost look dressy.

  “You got it,” I said proudly. “I’m doing a documentary, and Sugar lent me some equipment.” I gripped the camera tightly in my hand. I didn’t mention that my documentary would also help me get things back to normal with Liv, which was way more important than any school credit.

  Ashley’s eyes widened. “Ooh, that’s a great idea. I wish I’d thought of that. I’m doing a blog post where I’m going to embed songs for each person I’m talking about. Mr. Nicholson said that I’ll need to include an explanation of why I picked each song though.” She scrunched up her nose.

  “That’s a cool idea,” I said. Not as cool as a real documentary though, I thought gleefully. “Who are you going to talk about?”

  She shrugged. “Probably some friends,” she said. “You’ll be on the list though, so if you have any song requests, let me know.”

  “Me?” I asked, nearly dropping my camera. I swung the strap over my shoulder to avoid any accidents involving the shark tank.

  Ashley shrugged. “Why not? You’re the reason I’m here, aren’t you? I’ll have to think of the world’s geekiest song though.” She dipped her hand below the surface of the water to skim the top of a passing epaulette shark.

  “Aw, thanks,” I said. “Hey, what about Rayna?” I asked suddenly. “You and her were always hanging out together last year. What happened there?” The truth was, I knew that Rayna and Ashley had stopped hanging out at the beginning of the school year, and since hanging out with me was the only thing that had changed in Ashley’s life, I couldn’t help but think I’d had something to do with their friendship fizzling. As much as I didn’t like Rayna, the thought that something so small could ruin a friendship made my chest tight.

  Ashley shrugged. “You know the drill.” She bent her fingers, inspecting her nails. “I mean, we hung out a lot the past couple years, but you know she’s been a total pill since school started.”

  Now, to me, that didn’t sound any different than normal old Rayna. She had been Ashley’s friend back when Ashley was a mean Sneerer, so I always assumed when Ashley started acting nicer toward me, her friends Rayna and Brooke would do the same. Brooke and I get along, but Rayna stayed as mean as ever. And Rayna seemed to get more distant from Ashley until I rarely saw them together.

  “But you guys were best friends,” I pointed out. “That should matter, right? Best friends can’t suddenly not talk to each other or not be friends at all.” I hated that I could hear the uncertainty in my own voice, like I was waiting or hoping for Ashley to correct me.

  But she didn’t.

  Instead, she shook her head. “I don’t know.” She sighed. “Like, think about it.” She pointed to me. “You used to be my enemy, you know? And now you’re not. If that can change, then who’s to say that best friends can’t suddenly become…not friends?”

  I shook my head, feeling my cheeks get hot. “But it’s not the same thing! Friends can’t just—”

  “I think they can, Ana!” Ashley interrupted. Her eyes were glassy. She turned away to let her hand drag in the water again, skimming against the current. “People can change,” she said. “Doesn’t matter if they’re your friend or not. You grow up or grow apart or whatever.”

  I gripped my camera tighter, searching for the perfect explanation to show she was wrong. My doubts about Liv and I felt like they were cuts on my skin, getting more exposed every day.

  “So,” Ashley said, her lip drawing up slightly. “I hear Liv’s back for a visit.”

  I sucked in a breath. Could she read my mind? “Um, yeah.”

  “Does she know we’re friends now?” she asked. She twirled her hair as her ears turned pink again. “I mean, does she know that we aren’t like…”

  At each other’s throats?

  I nodded. “She knows,” I lied quickly. “It’s totally fine. She’s here for a couple weeks. She’s spent the last few days visiting her relatives a few hours away. And she has purple hair now,” I babbled. I had a feeling that even if you told a lie, it was possible to bury it with enough truths so people wouldn’t notice. Like throwing a pile of clean socks on a single dirty one.

  “That’s cool,” she said.

  I was super lucky that Ashley didn’t know my lie face as well as Liv did. Before she could ask anything else, Sugar returned. She showed us the pictures she’d taken on her phone as her eyes danced with excitement.

  “Oh, I do love it here! Are you ready to do some practice runs with the camera? We can get some footage at the Croc Pavilion if you like!”

  Waving good-bye to Ashley, Sugar started coaching me through how to set up certain shots for my documentary. I listened to every word, and even took notes in my journal so I could use every trick I could to make this the greatest documentary anyone—especially Liv—had ever seen. I couldn’t let what happened to Rayna and Ashley happen to us. We couldn’t grow apart.

  Possible Titles for My Documentary, Now That I’ve Mastered the Art of Turning the Camera On and Taking the Lens Cap Off:

  1. My Life: An Award-Winning Documentary (I like this one, but it might sound a bit too ambitious.)

  2. The Eighth-Grade Life of Ana Wright (This one sounds like a made-for-TV movie where someone dies at the end. No thanks.)

  3. How to Lie to One Friend about Being Friends with Another Friend: No, Seriously, It’s Okay Because Soon Everything Will Be Sorted Out and Nobody Will Mind That You Waited to Tell the Truth to Liv and Ashley Because You Didn’t Want Either of Them to Get Upset (Too confusing. Darn it.)

  Chapter 10

  Great horned owls are one of the few animals that regularly eat skunks. Sometimes they eat them so often, even their nests and feathers may smell musky.

  —Animal Wisdom

  Eww! There would be nothing worse than spending your life reeking of skunk! Maybe that’s why Daz’s room smells so much like Cheetos? That’s practically all he eats.

  “So what is it you want me to do again?” Daz sat taller on the couch. Darwin was sitting beside him on the cushion, and they were both preening. At least I knew that Darwin didn’t have fleas; I couldn’t say the same for Daz. Beside him, Kevin sat with a notepad sprawled over his lap. Like me, Kev loved to doodle, but he didn’t doodle animals and stuff like I did. Instead, he drew robots and super-serious blueprints for an artificial intelligence that may take over humankind at any moment.

  You know, genius stuff.

  “You wanted to do this, not me!” I reminded him. Ever since Daz heard about my documentary plans, he was practically frothing at the mouth for me to include him in it. He even promised to say what I told him to say and not embarrass me in any way possible.

 
Fat chance of that, right?

  I peeked at the camera again to check Daz’s position through the viewfinder. It was hard to not train the camera on Kevin, looking all adorable as he sat there trying to stay out of Daz’s way. Good thing I was a professional.

  “I can’t not be in your documentary,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s supposed to be about people who made you who you are today, right? Tell me that I haven’t done that. Tell me that Ana Wright would even exist without this.” His gestured to himself proudly. One of Darwin’s feathers was stuck in his hair, but I didn’t mention it. I remembered what Sugar said about capturing people realistically, without any extra effort to make them look a certain way.

  Plus, it was funny to see Daz covered in bird fluff.

  “I’m only talking about five things, and sorry, my skeezy brother does not rank high on my influence list. No offense. Be thankful you’re in it at all!” I yanked open the curtain, letting the last of the late- afternoon light into the room like Sugar had taught me. Darwin fluttered his wings in the warmth.

  Daz beamed. “Okay, I’m ready. Ten four. Roger dodger. Let’s do this thing.” He finger-gunned me and winked.

  “Ew, don’t do that on camera, okay? It’s seriously creepy,” I said. Getting behind the camera, I carefully hit the record button and started to count down, exactly the way Sugar had taught me.

  Kevin piped up. “Totally creepy,” he said. But Daz sent a pillow sailing for his face.

  “Five, four, three…” I continued with my fingers and pointed for Daz to start.

  Immediately he launched into his speech, with the prompt cards I’d given him still stuck under him on the seat. “Hello, and welcome to Ana Wright’s official documentary, all about how she manages to spend so much time in the bathroom, and yet still somehow looks the same when she comes out.”