Either way, he was definitely winning our little game, but I didn’t mind a bit. I’d never had so much fun!
“Gotcha!” I cried, lunging forward as he darted past.
My hand actually brushed his side, but only because he’d suddenly stopped swimming and raised his head above the water. A split second later, he’d burst into motion again—this time disappearing completely in the direction of the deeper water.
“Squeak?” I called uncertainly.
I stood up—the water only came to my thighs here—and shaded my eyes as I looked around. But the surface was still; there was no sign of Squeak anywhere.
“Hello?”
I jumped, startled by the voice echoing through the cove. It was someone on the trail—a girl I didn’t recognize. She was about halfway down, picking her way carefully around the rocks and bits of scree.
By the time she reached the bottom, I was on the beach, doing my best to squeeze most of the water out of my hair. I could already tell it was going to take forever to get all the tangles out after my bath that night.
But that was okay. It had been worth it. My gaze wandered back out toward the water, wishing this stranger hadn’t scared Squeak off just when we were having so much fun.
“Hi!” Speaking of the stranger, she was marching right up to me with a big smile on her face. “I’m Zoe. I just moved in up there.”
She waved a slim hand in the direction of the cliff. I blinked at her, finally realizing who she had to be.
“Oh,” I said. “You mean Brooke’s house.”
“I guess so.” Zoe shrugged and pushed her glasses up her nose, still smiling. She had a dimple in one cheek, which combined with her bronzy-tan skin and dark eyes to make her look vaguely exotic. “Hey, I love your hair! I’ve always wanted to grow mine long like that, but I always lose patience and chop it all off before it gets past my chin.”
She let out a hearty laugh, tugging on her wavy dark bobbed hair. I smiled weakly, not really in the mood for girl talk, especially with a total stranger. And even more especially with a total stranger who’d just moved into Brooke’s old house, which meant she was just another spoiled rich girl who’d probably end up in Morgan’s little clique soon enough. Besides all that, I couldn’t help feeling annoyed with her for scaring off Admiral Squeak. Would he come back?
I touched my wet hair. “Thanks. Um, but I should probably go comb it out before it dries,” I said.
Zoe hardly seemed to hear me. She pushed her glasses up again and peered out toward the water.
“Was there someone else out there with you?” she asked. “I could’ve sworn I saw two people out there when I started down. By the way, that trail needs a handrail! I thought I was going to die!”
She laughed loudly again, but I had already grabbed my shorts and was heading for the trail. “Nope, it was just me,” I said. “Sorry, I really do have to go. It’ll be lunchtime soon and my dad will need my help at his restaurant.”
“Your dad has his own restaurant?” Zoe looked impressed. “Cool! I wish my dad did something like that. He’s a pilot, so he’s away, like, all the time. Total bummer, right?”
“Yeah.” I kept moving toward the base of the trail. “Nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around sometime.”
With that, I bolted up the trail, not looking back.
The next day, I didn’t make it to the cove at all. Will and I both had dentist’s appointments, and as usual, it took twice as long as it should have since Will screamed every time Dr. Abbott tried to go near his mouth. After we finally got out of there, Mom dragged us to the mall, saying that if she had to take a personal day she might as well get all her errands done. I couldn’t stop thinking about Squeak as I trailed after her from one boring store to another, trying to stop Will from breaking anything.
By the time we got back to town, it was almost dinner rush, so we’d all gone straight to the restaurant. For once, just about every table was full, which meant Mom and Jacob both had to step in to help the evening waitress while I helped Dad in the kitchen. Will even helped a little by shucking corn for the chowder.
So on Thursday morning, I barely took time to gulp down some juice and half a banana before bolting for the door. “Hey, where are you going?” Will asked, looking up from the comic book Jacob had given him to read over breakfast to keep him quiet. “Can I come?”
I stuck my feet into my flip-flops, which were on the mat beside the back door. “Why do you want to come?” I said. “You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“I want to come! I want to come!” Will chanted, pounding his fists on the table.
Jacob looked up from his books. “Easy, dude,” he said, reaching across the table to grab Will’s juice glass just before it tipped over.
Will ignored him, jumping to his feet and running over to grab my arm. “Let meeeeee come!” he wailed, his voice rising in pitch with each word.
I shook him off a little harder than necessary. “No!” I snapped. “Not if you’re going to act like a baby.”
“I’m not a baby.” Will stuck out his lower lip, wounded. “I’m eight now. Almost a man.”
Jacob chuckled, but I just rolled my eyes. “A caveman, maybe,” I muttered.
“Are you going for a swim?” Jacob asked me, taking in the swimsuit peeking out from under my clothes. “Maybe Will could come.”
“Um, actually I’m just going over to Emma’s,” I lied, tugging the collar of my T-shirt a little higher over the straps of my swimsuit. “We might swim later, but first we’re going to spend a few hours looking at fashion magazines and painting our toenails and stuff.”
Jacob raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced. But my story had worked. Will was making an “ick” face.
“I hate fashion magazines,” he declared, flopping back into his seat at the kitchen table. “They’re boring.”
“Okay. See you.” I darted out the door before either of them could say anything else.
I walked across the yard in the direction of Emma’s house just in case my brothers were watching out the window. But as soon as I rounded the clump of chokeberry by our mailbox, I veered off toward the cove trail.
Little Twin was deserted except for a crow pecking at a clump of seaweed; as I walked across the beach, the bird flew off with a lazy caw. I peered out at the water as I shrugged off my shorts and T-shirt.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are Admiral Squeak,” I singsonged softly. Then I let out a couple of my best dolphin whistles and chirps.
There was no response. The water stayed glassy-calm, revealing no hint of the dolphin’s dorsal fin or his scarred, smiling face.
I splashed out through the shallows, then tried my dolphin calls again. Still no response.
Maybe he’s sleeping farther out in the cove and didn’t hear me, I thought.
Did dolphins sleep? I’d never really thought about it before. But they had to, right?
I whistled again when I reached the drop-off, but there was still no sign of Squeak. Slipping into the deeper water, I dog-paddled out, chirping or whistling every few minutes. But finally I had to give up and accept that Admiral Squeak wasn’t around.
As I emerged at the top of the trail a little while later, Emma was just wandering along the road. “Hey!” she greeted me cheerfully, pushing back a strand of long hair that had escaped from her ponytail. “I was just on my way to your house. Want to come over?”
“Sure,” I said immediately, relieved that she was acting normal for a change. Maybe this meant that Morgan and her gang had gotten bored with their Cinder Emma project. Maybe they’d finally realized that Emma wasn’t like them and never would be, no matter how hard they tried to make her over. Maybe now I could have my best friend back, and things could return to the way they’d always been.
I followed her back along the road, and we pushed through the whitewashed wooden gate separating the sandy, dusty, piney scrublands from the Stewart-Bells’ manicured green yard. Emma’s mom was
at her easel in one of her favorite spots, the shade of the old crab-apple tree along one side of the house, where she had a fantastic view of the harbor where it met the Sound. She heard us coming and looked around.
“Annie!” she exclaimed. “Where have you been, my love? I need your opinion on this shade of blue.”
She waved her paintbrush at the canvas she was working on. I stepped forward, studying the painting. Like most of her work, it showed the coastline beyond the Point. Ellery Bell was famous, and she’d made our little corner of Connecticut famous, too. Her gorgeous, moody seascapes hung in galleries and museums all over the world, and everyone in town had read the New York Times article that called her the Andrew Wyeth of Connecticut.
I leaned forward as I noticed a detail off to one side of the painting. “Wait, are those—are those dolphins?” I asked, squinting at a couple of tiny blobs of paint.
“Dolphins?” Emma’s mom glanced at the picture. “I don’t know, I suppose they could be. Really, I just thought the scene needed a little motion, a little life, you know? A hint of the world beneath the waters.”
“Come on.” Emma grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the house. “We have to go, Mom.”
A blast of cold air hit me when we stepped into the house. The Cottage was old, but the Stewart-Bells had outfitted it with all the modern conveniences, from AC to a gourmet kitchen that had made my dad’s eyes bug out the few times he’d been inside. My gaze wandered toward the front doors, which opened onto the porch. Maybe Emma and I could plan our beach sleepover today. That might even take my mind off Admiral Squeak for a while.
“Let’s go upstairs.” Emma opened the giant stainless-steel refrigerator and grabbed a couple of sodas. “I want to show you something.”
I followed her up the curving staircase and down the upstairs hallway, which was wider than the entire main room in my house. When she pushed open the door to her bedroom, I blinked in surprise.
“What’d you do to your room?” I exclaimed.
Emma looked pleased as she glanced around. “You like it? I figured it was time for a change.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I’d always loved Emma’s room. Even though it was four times the size of mine, it had still managed to feel cozy, thanks to her fringed canopy bed, shelves full of books and stuffed animals, posters of animals and flowers on the walls, and colorful mishmash of throw rugs we’d layered over the boring beige carpet.
Now it looked totally different. The posters and most of the stuffed animals were gone, with only a single pale brown teddy bear perched atop the new white bedspread. The canopy bed’s wispy curtains had disappeared, too, revealing the stark modern frame. A couple of new posters had replaced the old ones, one of them featuring a moonlit view of the Eiffel Tower and another a popular boy band.
I stood in the doorway feeling a little dizzy at all the changes. Emma didn’t seem to notice my reaction. She set the sodas on her desk, then reached down to grab something on the far side of her bed.
“Check it out,” she said.
Tearing my gaze away from the Eiffel Tower, I saw that she was holding a shiny reddish-brown guitar. She strummed a loud chord.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“My new guitar. Isn’t it cool?” She adjusted her fingers on the frets and strummed a different chord, softer this time. “Connor’s older brother helped me pick it out. He’s in, like, a real band.”
“Since when do you play the guitar?” I demanded. “You play the oboe.”
She shrugged, fiddling with the strings. “I was getting kind of bored with that. I thought it was time for a change.”
She seemed to be saying that sort of thing a lot lately. And I didn’t like it. Emma had been playing the oboe forever. That was her thing at school, just like swim team was my thing.
Bending over the instrument, she picked out a series of notes. It sounded kind of off-key to me, but she smiled. “Anyway, guitar is much cooler than oboe.”
“Says who?” I probably sounded a little aggressive, but I didn’t care.
Anyway, Emma didn’t seem to notice. “Everyone,” she said with another shrug. “Morgan. Connor’s brother. You know.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Once again I found myself wondering: Why does she care what Morgan thinks?
“Well, I don’t want to sit around listening to you practice,” I said. “Besides, it’s freezing in here. Let’s go play tennis or something.”
Spinning around, I headed for the stairs. Halfway down, I heard Emma clattering after me.
“Wait up,” she said. “Are you sure you want to play tennis? It’s so hot today.”
“I’m sure.” Somehow, knowing that she didn’t want to play made me even more determined.
Soon we were out on the clay court in the side yard between the Cottage and the tall evergreen hedge that marked the property line with Morgan’s house, lobbing a ball back and forth. It was pretty steamy out there, but I didn’t mind. Summer was supposed to be hot.
I was winding up for a serve when I heard a sharp, eager bark somewhere behind me. Glancing over my shoulder at the arched wooden gateway in the hedge, I saw Zoe, the girl I’d met in the cove. Dragging her along at the end of its leash was the cutest little dog I’d ever seen. He was small and furry and brown, with a pointy nose and ears that went in two different directions.
“Hi!” Zoe called breathlessly, trying to keep up as her dog yanked her toward us. “Bongo wanted to go visiting, and there was nobody home next door, and I heard voices over here—I hope it’s okay that we came through this way. Go say hi, Bongo boy.” She bent and unclipped the leash from the dog’s collar. As soon as he was free, he barked again and leaped toward me.
Emma watched as Bongo jumped up on my legs. “What kind of dog is he? I’ve never seen a breed like that.”
Zoe laughed and poked her glasses up her nose. “Oh, he’s not any breed in particular. Actually my mom says he’s probably got a little bit of everything in him. Including a little pig—he eats like one, anyway.”
“He’s adorable.” I dropped my racket and kneeled down to rub the dog’s floppy ears. “I like his name, too.”
“Thanks.” Zoe’s smile was wide and friendly. “Speaking of names, you never told me yours the other day. But don’t worry, I figured it out. You’re Annie Reed, right? You live in that cute little house in the woods?”
“Right. Sorry I ran off like that. Um, I was kind of distracted.” I found myself mesmerized by her dimple, which grew deeper when she smiled. “Uh, this is Emma Stewart-Bell.”
“Yeah, we’ve met.” Emma sounded a little grumpy. She also wasn’t coming over to meet Bongo, which was strange, since she loved animals just as much as I did.
“Right, Emma’s folks had us over the other day,” Zoe said. “I still think it’s totally cool that I’m going to be living almost right next door to a famous artist!”
I glanced up at Emma in surprise. She hadn’t mentioned meeting Zoe. That was weird, especially since she’d been so curious about her at Will’s birthday party on Friday.
“So that place where you were swimming the other day,” Zoe said. “What’s the deal? Is it, you know, private property or what?”
I giggled as Bongo’s little pink tongue darted out, sloshing across my nose and cheek. “Little Twin?” I said. “No, it’s public, but nobody goes there except from right here on the Point, so it practically feels like our own private beach.”
“It’s amazing,” Zoe said. “I love the tide pool there—I spent like an hour staring into it after you left. See, I want to be a marine biologist someday, maybe. At least I’m thinking about it.”
“There’s always tons of fish and animals in the cove,” I replied, playing with Bongo’s ears. “We even saw a dolphin there last week.”
“Annie!” Emma hissed, her eyes widening.
Oops. Zoe was so friendly and nice that I’d forgotten Admiral Squeak was supposed to be a secret. But so what? It wasn’t as i
f I’d told her his name, so there was no way she could spill the beans to Morgan even if they did end up being friends.
“A dolphin?” Zoe’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “So cool! I love dolphins. I did a whole report on them a couple of years ago. Did you know they do something called a signature whistle? At least I think that’s what it’s called. It’s like a special little song, and they think it’s how dolphins recognize one another. Or something.” She scratched her ear. “The report was a few years ago, so I can’t remember all the details anymore.”
“Really?” I thought about the sounds Squeak had made, especially the funny little whistle-chirp he’d done several times while we were playing in the water on Tuesday. I just hoped I’d get another chance to hear it. Which reminded me … “Do you know if dolphins, um, sleep?” I asked.
Emma stared at me. “Of course they do,” she said. “Every animal has to sleep, right?”
“I’m not sure.” Zoe swung Bongo’s leash around her hand. “I don’t remember everything. Maybe I could dig out my old report and see if it says.” She laughed. “You know—once we actually get all the boxes unpacked.”
“Sure.” I wasn’t going to hold my breath on that. Zoe seemed pretty cool now. But as soon as she settled in, I was sure she’d glom on to Morgan and the other rich girls and forget all about me.
Still, she’d made me realize there was a lot I didn’t know about dolphins. Maybe I could look up some information on the computer later. If I could get near it, anyway. Jacob tended to hog it all the time lately to search for information on college applications and scholarships and stuff.
Or maybe I’ll check the library, I thought, standing up as Bongo bounded over to say hello to Emma.
The town library was a quaint little place located in the decommissioned lighthouse at the mouth of the harbor. Most people probably saw it as nothing more than a cute photo op, but it actually had a pretty good collection, including lots of books on local history, nautical stuff, and marine biology. At least that was what Jacob had told me once after doing some research there for a school project. Maybe Emma and I could bike down there today.
Heart of a Dolphin Page 4