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

by Jess Keating

  “And I was wondering…” I started, unsure of how to ask. “Would you mind if I filmed you working for a few minutes? It’s for a project. Hopefully a project that will get me out of a bad grade.” I grimaced.

  Kate’s eyebrows lifted curiously. “A project, hmm? On excellent fashion choices, no doubt.” She brushed off her filthy coveralls playfully and struck a pose, fluffing her short, silver hair.

  I laughed. “It’s about the things that influenced us this year,” I said, squirming against the cold. “I don’t think I’d feel right if I didn’t include you and this awesome place.”

  She pursed her lips as we turned around to head back to the clinic. “Ana, I would be honored,” she said. Then, turning to me with that fierce glimmer in her eyes, she added, “But don’t think that’s going to get you out of skunk duty.”

  Chapter 20

  Bald eagles will work together to hunt, with one animal scaring prey while the other snatches it up in its razor-sharp claws.

  —Animal Wisdom

  I wonder if bald eagles have BFFs.

  Okay.

  Voice-over segments? Check.

  Footage of Bella, Ashley, Grandpa, Kate, and the zoo? Check.

  Ridiculously giggly introduction featuring Daz? Check.

  Music to make it all seem super professional? Check!

  “You’re almost done, Ana doll!” Sugar took a sip of her sparkling water and pointed to her laptop screen. Because I didn’t have the right software to edit my documentary on my own laptop, Sugar had let me borrow hers. “You need to save the file on my desktop, then we can make a copy of it that you can take with you for your presentation. I’m so proud of you!” she squealed.

  I clicked the mouse. So far, it had been fun going through all the footage with Sugar. She had helped me isolate the best parts featuring the zoo, my friends, and a hilarious scene of Grandpa singing and dancing to Frank Sinatra in the kitchen that he didn’t even know I’d been there to film. Sugar had even shown me how to dub goofy music over that part. Since I wasn’t sure that including Liv was a good idea, interviewing Kate meant that I had five influences. Technically, that meant my project was ready to go.

  That didn’t stop the clenched feeling in my chest, but every time I even thought about Liv, her words kept barreling through my head again at warp speed.

  This new Ana? I don’t want to be friends with her.

  “What should I call it?” My right hand hovered over the keyboard. It was a pain to type with one hand, but I was already getting faster.

  Sugar scrunched her nose and twirled a piece of her hair with her finger. “How about Ana’s A-Plus Project?” she asked. “It’s smart to visualize what you want! Didn’t you say you wanted to win an award with this?” Her eyes brightened. “I bet you have a great shot!”

  My stomach tightened. “Don’t remind me,” I joked. The truth was, I couldn’t wait for my chance to present. Almost everything about the past two weeks felt like one giant stain on my life, and that big, red F on my test seemed to magnify it all. Proof that I was failing in so many ways. Especially with my best friend.

  No.

  I shoved Liv from my mind again, focusing on what I could do. “I think I have a chance too,” I said, feeling the hope grow inside me. “I don’t know anyone else who did a documentary like this, and with your help, I think it turned out amazing.” I lifted my drink up so we could clink glasses together. “Thank you!” I said.

  “You’re more than welcome! It’s been so great getting to spend some more time with you!” She reached around and squeezed my shoulder, making sure to avoid knocking my super-awkward cast.

  “How are we doing in here?” Mom peeked her head into my room. Darwin was perched on her shoulder, nuzzling her ear.

  “We’re good,” I said as Sugar gave me a wink and went for a refill of her drink. “Project’s done. I think I have a good shot at winning away my awful grade too,” I added, hoping she would take that as a sign that I really did feel bad about it. Ever since I’d brought home that quiz for her to sign, I’d had about a million squinty-eyed, concerned looks from her.

  She narrowed her eyes at me, then reached over to put her wrist against my forehead. Darwin crept down to her elbow and gave me his own suspicious look. “Are you okay? You look like a zombie,” she said. “I know what happened with Liv has been awful, Ana. If you need to talk, I’m here, you know…” She turned the full force of her Mom-glare on me, picking away at my force field.

  “BRAACK!” Darwin cawed. “Ana banana! Zombie banana!”

  I ignored him. “I know, Mom. I just don’t want to talk about it. I want to present my project and win. Are you guys going to come too?” I asked.

  She beamed. “Of course we are! It’s not every day your daughter stands in front of the world and—” She bit her lip, looking sheepish. “Well. You know. I guess it does happen from time to time, but I’m certainly not missing out on hearing what my daughter has to say. It should be fun!”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Honestly, Mom had a weird sense of “fun.”

  “Are you all ready to go then?” Her eyes drifted to my laptop screen, where the names of my five influences were floating in a bubble of text on my opening sequence. I knew by her face that she was surprised to see that Liv wasn’t on the list, but she didn’t say anything.

  “All done,” I said, closing my laptop.

  “Well then,” she said, looking pleased. “Let’s go have some fun that doesn’t involve school projects, huh?” She winked, wrapping an arm around me. “We’ve got a fox to set free!”

  My heart leaped. “Right now?!”

  She started for the door. “Kate just called! Let’s get a move on, Fox Whisperer!”

  The forest seemed to grow thicker around us as Kate and Mom hoisted the metal cage from the back of the truck. A gray blanket was covering it, so the fox probably had no idea where she was. I hoped with all my heart that she’d be happily surprised when they opened that door.

  Safe inside the truck, I was practically glued to the window. I wanted to be outside with Kate, but Mom made short work of that.

  “How do you know she’s going to be okay?” I asked nervously. For some reason, I wasn’t as excited as I thought I would be, knowing she was on her way home again. Even though she was completely healthy now, I still felt a strange sense of unease knowing she was going back into the dangerous wilderness. She’d already been at the wildlife center twice in her short life. What if she got hurt again? “Maybe we should keep her in the zoo, so we know she’ll be safe.”

  Mom sighed. “We don’t know,” she said, smiling gently. “But she’s a healthy, beautiful animal and deserves to be free. She isn’t an animal that needs the zoo.” She tucked a strand of messy hair behind her ear. “We’ve done what we can to help her recover. But sometimes, you can’t save everything. All you can do is your best, and then you have to let go.”

  Her words seemed to hang in the air of the quiet forest. All you can do is your best, and then you have to let go.

  It sounded almost like a poem.

  “Why can’t I be out there?” I asked. I wanted more than anything to be outside with Kate, like a real wildlife rehabilitator, setting the fox free. “I won’t do anything wrong, I promise. And I’ll be super careful. She won’t hurt me!”

  Mom frowned. “No, she wouldn’t mean to hurt you. But even animals that seem perfectly gentle can act quite vicious when they’re cornered.”

  Something stirred inside me. “What do you mean?” I asked. My cheeks started to burn, even though the heat inside the truck had long since disappeared.

  “When they’re threatened—or when they feel like their way of life is in danger—some animals can lash out. They can hurt you, but they’re only trying to defend themselves. It’s a way of protecting themselves when they’re scared.”

&nb
sp; My stomach bottomed out. I was staring out at the trees, but nothing was in focus. Suddenly, I blinked, and it felt like I was looking at the forest with new eyes. The puzzle in my head finally clicked into place. All I could think was, that’s exactly what happened with Liv.

  My mind raced, pulling together all the details from every time I’d seen Liv. All of her snippy talk about me being a “celebrity.” Being weird and moody while I had to sign that autograph. Flipping out and being so angry when she saw me hanging out with Ashley. She wasn’t only sad that I was different.

  She was threatened by it. Scared.

  Just like I was scared that she was changing so much.

  Only instead of handling it like I did (which, let’s face it, was super confused and full of lying), she lashed out at me. She was so scared she even made fun of me with Leilani, probably because she didn’t want to mess things up with the only friend she had at home. I’d practically done the same thing with Ashley when I’d lied about Liv knowing we were friends now.

  I swallowed hard, seeing the past two weeks for what they really were: two friends who were different and scared of messing everything up, both with their new friends and their old ones. It wasn’t nice, and it wasn’t on purpose, and like Kate had said about our fox, I could still see glimpses of the old Liv behind all the new parts that were lashing out.

  For the first time since she’d arrived here, I could actually understand Liv. The truth seemed to expand in my head like a balloon, crushing out all the annoyed and hurt thoughts from before.

  I leaned back in my seat, suddenly feeling light-headed. But Kate was still moving outside, getting into position.

  I nestled closer to Mom as I watched Kate tuck herself behind the cage they’d placed in the thicket. She checked that we were safely in the truck, then with one swift movement, yanked on the cable that connected to the cage door. I watched in awe as the wind in the trees seemed to slow to a stop, waiting for the fox to make her way from the cage. Kate held her hands over her chest, like she was bracing herself.

  “You’re free!” I whispered. Mom grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly.

  At first, there was nothing. No movement from inside the cage. No movement from Kate. Beside me, Mom held her breath.

  Then a paw appeared.

  She looked so scared.

  Mom’s hand tightened again around mine as the fox crept from the cage, with its head down and its shoulders slinking left to right slowly. Carefully. She seemed so much larger now, so much more wild. My breath caught in my chest as the last of her long, black tail appeared through the cage door.

  “Good luck,” I whispered again, leaning closer to the window. I placed my hand on the cold window, wishing I could give her one last pet.

  The fox didn’t seem to realize anything was strange about this moment—with the three of us gawking at her. Before lifting her paw to step again, she turned to face the truck.

  Her eyes locked with mine, sending a thrill deep into my stomach. They were rusty brown, like they’d been that night at the hospital. But this time, they were much brighter.

  She would survive. I knew it.

  I closed my eyes, wishing her a long and happy life in the forest.

  And then she was gone.

  Kate lifted her fist in victory as the fox’s tail disappeared into the bushes, her reddish-orange coat already fading against the tree trunks.

  “I think she’ll be fine,” Mom said, resting back against her seat with a sigh. Soft snow had started to fall around us.

  “It’s snowing for her,” I pointed out. Unrolling my window, I stuck my mitten out, catching the first crystal snowflakes. Touching one to my tongue, I smiled. “I think she’s going to be better than fine.”

  And maybe it was the way the whole world seemed to turn into a giant snow globe for us, but I felt like the weight from my shoulders had disappeared. I’d get a shot to fix my botched grade tomorrow, and even Kevin was coming home.

  “Time for burgers to celebrate?” Mom asked, licking her lips.

  I nodded, taking one last look out the window. “Better than voles,” I said, waving out the window.

  I knew my fox was already far away, but I had a feeling she could tell I was saying good-bye anyway.

  “Can we make a quick stop a home first?” I asked as Mom started the engine.

  “What could possibly be more important than burgers right now?” she asked, grinning.

  “My project,” I said. “I need to make one quick change.”

  For the first time in weeks, I knew exactly what to do.

  Liv,

  I know you’re mad at me. And yeah, I’m mad at you too. We both did some awful stuff. But I have something I want you to see. I hope you can come to the school tomorrow night for our projects. I’ll be presenting around 7:30.

  —Ana

  Chapter 21

  A chipmunk’s heart beats about three hundred and fifty times per minute. When they hibernate, their heart rate drops to only fifteen times per minute.

  —Animal Wisdom

  Know what else can make your heart race? Trying to talk your way out of a big fat F!

  “I’m freaking out,” Brooke said. “I’m totally and completely freaking out. I can’t do this!”

  I nearly dropped my laptop when I heard Brooke’s shrill voice down the hall. It was the night of our media presentations, and so far, I’d managed to not make a complete zebra-butt out of myself.

  But, of course, the night was still young.

  As Mom and Dad wandered through looking at the projects with the rest of the teachers and parents, I checked my video one final time. Like Mr. Nicholson had asked, I had a speech prepared for each influence I’d be including, and I was ready for my big moment to wipe my F record clean. I also made sure that the new segment looked perfect.

  I was also on the lookout for Liv.

  After the fox release yesterday, I knew I had to include her in my documentary. Like Grandpa said, documentaries are supposed to represent reality, not some sugary, fake version of the life you wish you had. And Liv was one of the biggest influences I had. She didn’t help me be braver, like Ashley. And she didn’t help me own my weirdness, like Bella. Liv influenced me to be real, to face the truth and fight for the things that mattered to me.

  Even if it hurt.

  But more importantly, I felt for the first time that I knew where Liv was coming from. She was like that fox, and by lying to her about Ashley along with all the other big changes about my life, she’d felt threatened and lashed out.

  I knew it was true.

  Now I just needed her to know it too. Maybe then we would have a chance.

  Last night, after going through all my old photos of us together, I was able to put together a supercool video collage of the two of us to include. Holding hands as we crossed the street as tiny kids, goofing off with ridiculous pigtail braids in second grade, and even our horribly awkward “make our own clothes” phase, where we looked like orphans from a bad musical.

  It was all set, and I was certain that I’d win my way to a better grade with it too.

  “I’m going to puke!” Brooke’s voice hissed through the hall again. “There are too many people here! I can’t do it.” She was practically hyperventilating now. Beside her, Ashley and Bella were trying to calm her, but it was obvious by the nervous looks in their eyes that they weren’t getting anywhere with her.

  Frowning, I clicked my video into ready position and made my way over. The memory of her at my very first crocodile presentation flickered back to my mind and how she’d tried to help me stay focused, no matter how many people wanted to me mess up. She had helped save my butt once, and now was the chance to do the same for her.

  “Brooke,” I said, grabbing her arm and trying to use my best soothing voice. “You need to stop freaking out! You’re go
ing to be okay.”

  “See!” Ashley blurted, shooting me a grateful look. “It’s all going to be perfect! I mean, you don’t need to win the grade thing,” she said. “All you need to do is avoid barfing all over a teacher and you’re golden!”

  I gave Ashley a look, while Bella hid her giggle.

  Brooke wrung her hands together as she spoke. “There are too many parents here. And all these teachers. Why did I pick a medium that used hardly any words?! Now I’ll have to say everything!”

  I shook my head. “Remember what you told me during the summer? When Ashley wanted me to botch up my croc presentation?” I tapped my forehead with my finger. “Focus! All you have to do is forget about everybody watching you and focus on the words you need to say. You’re allowed to read from your paper! Just focus on these words.” I held up her paper.

  Brooke took a breath, slower this time. “Focus. Fine,” she sputtered. She wasn’t looking normal yet, but she was on her way. “You guys won’t make fun of me, right?” she asked suddenly. “If I completely mess up?”

  Ashley rolled her eyes. “We’re all going to mess up, Brooke,” she said matter-of-factly. “Join the club.”

  That seemed to shake the last of Brooke’s fears away. As I made my way back to my table, I took one last look around. Still no Liv. Now it was my turn to start worrying. Could she be so upset that she wouldn’t show up, despite my note? Had she changed that much?

  Then a familiar hand waved in the air.

  “Ana!” A voice carried over the noise of the hallway. But it wasn’t Liv.

  It was her mother.

  “Mrs. Reed!” I yelled, waving her over. My heart skipped as she hurried over. Her face was pale. Mr. Reed followed close behind, with my parents tailing him. Mom and Dad must have seen them come in.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, my stomach clenching.

  “Have you seen Liv?” she asked, gripping my hands. “She told me that she would be here. Is she with you? Have you seen her?”