When the Going Gets Ruff

by Daphne Maple

  “So we’ll do it at my house, no problem,” I said.

  A balled-up napkin came flying over and landed smack in the middle of our table. “Ew,” Kim said as we all pulled our food away from it.

  We looked to see where it had come from. Two tables down Dennis, Jonah, and Silas were having a food fight and the cafeteria aides were rushing over.

  “Why are boys so immature?” Taylor asked. “Food fights are so fifth grade.”

  “Seriously,” I agreed. I took my last bite of salad but I was still a little hungry. I wished Taylor had brought mini moon pies again.

  “Want some carrots?” Kim asked, pulling open the little bag she’d bought and reading my mind.

  “Thanks,” I said, grabbing two.

  “Hey, speaking of carrots, how did it go when you asked your mom for the rabbit?” Taylor asked with a grin.

  I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “It was a no-go.”

  “Oh, too bad,” Kim said sympathetically.

  “Actually it’s okay,” I said. “When we went to the Pet Emporium and I held one of their rabbits it didn’t feel quite right. Like, he was cute and everything, but it didn’t feel like it was a fit for me.”

  “I guess that means more pet quizzes,” Kim said, holding up the bag to offer me more carrots.

  “Yes,” I said, helping myself to another. “Eventually I’m going to figure out the perfect pet, the one that my mom cannot say no to.”

  “I have an idea for you,” Taylor said, her eyes sparkling. She was done with her yogurt and she grabbed a carrot too. “It’s an animal that gets a bad rap but really they’re super smart and clean, even though they like garbage.”

  “This sounds like the start of a bad joke,” I said.

  Kim nodded, grinning.

  “Okay, tell me,” I said to Taylor.

  “A pig!” she cried happily.

  The thought of my mom ever allowing a pig into our house was too much—we all burst out laughing. We were still giggling when the bell rang.

  That night I took special care to do everything my mom had asked in the text she sent me that afternoon. I started the pasta water before she got home, I took the sauce she’d made over the weekend out of the freezer to thaw, and I even remembered to get the salad ready. As a bonus I set the table and I was getting our drinks ready when she opened the door. Opened the door to a perfectly clean front hall, I might add: I’d put my shoes on the shoe shelf, my jacket in the closet, and my backpack upstairs in my room. There had been a minor problem with a pile of dirty clothes I needed to wash but I’d stuffed them under my bed. My mom rarely looked there unless she was doing a weekend room inspection. So as far as she was concerned, the house was perfect!

  “Thanks for getting everything ready, hon,” she said as we sat down to ravioli with meat sauce and freshly tossed salad. Some families might eat dinner in the kitchen if it was only two people, but not us. We sat in our formal dining room every night, with cloth napkins on the antique oak table, under the chandelier with crystals that sent light dancing around the room.

  “No problem,” I said casually. I’d decided that part of being responsible was acting like it was no big deal.

  “So how as your day?” she asked.

  “Good,” I said. “I got a one hundred on my English quiz.” Mrs. Benson gave surprise pop quizzes at least once a week and by now I knew to always be prepared for one, just in case.

  “Nice job,” my mom said.

  “And Kim and Taylor and I are planning our social studies project,” I said. “We came up with something really good.” I debated telling her about it but decided it would be most impressive if it was a surprise.

  “Do I get to hear about it now or later?” my mom asked, taking a bite of ravioli.

  “Later,” I said. “We’re still figuring out details.”

  “Sounds like you’re putting some hard work into it, which is great,” my mom said.

  “We’re trying,” I said, wanting to sound modest but also to make it clear how responsible we were being. “How’s work?”

  My mom’s law firm specialized in environmental law. My mom was really into saving the environment, which was why we never drank bottled water or used plastic grocery bags or paper napkins. She didn’t go nuts about it though, like some of her coworkers. There was this one guy who had an outhouse instead of a real toilet, which was totally gross. Most of her job was doing research and writing up briefs, which were basically long, boring essays. But I nodded as she told me about the one she was writing for a case about preserving some forestland outside of town.

  “How are things at the dog shelter?” she asked when she was done. “And with the Dog Club?” My mom had been very supportive when we first started the club—she was big on things that helped people and animals, as long as none of it made a mess in our home.

  “Pretty good,” I said. “Though we have a bit of a challenge with one of the dogs.”

  “Oh?” She raised an eyebrow as she waited for me to continue.

  “It’s this new dog, Sierra,” I said, pushing my last piece of ravioli along the bottom of my plate to get up the remaining sauce. “She’s really energetic and she kind of intimidates the other dogs.”

  “What kind of dog is she?” My mom took her last sip of seltzer.

  “A German shepherd mix,” I said.

  “That does sound intimidating,” my mom said. “Are the owners helpful?”

  “Actually I think she kind of intimidates them too,” I said, thinking of how bewildered Mr. Finnegan looked when he dropped Sierra off.

  “That sounds like a problem,” my mom said.

  “Yeah, but we’re figuring it out,” I said eagerly, realizing this was another way to show how grounded and not flighty I was. “We’ve been brainstorming ideas to help calm Sierra down so she can play with the other dogs.”

  “Great,” my mom said, smiling. “I’m sure you guys will come up with something good.”

  “Me too,” I said, pleased by her reaction.

  We cleared the table together and loaded the dishwasher, and then my mom began to fill the sink to wash the pans she’d used to cook. We put dishes and silverware in the dishwasher but my mom always cleaned the pots by hand.

  “Mom, I’ll wash up today,” I said.

  My mom looked confused. “Really?”

  Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for. But then again, I’d never offered to wash before. I usually just went up to start my homework.

  “Yeah,” I said. “You go relax.”

  My mom gave me a kiss on the head. “What a sweet offer,” she said. “Thank you.”

  I wanted to add that it was responsible as well as sweet but that would be too heavy-handed. Instead I put the colander into the sudsy sink and began to scrub. I washed carefully, making sure every inch of the colander was soaped up before I rinsed and went on to the pasta pot. It took me fifteen minutes to wash three pots but they were super clean and I was proud of them. I headed upstairs thinking I would have to find time for a pet quiz in the next day or two. As responsible as I was being, it was just a matter of time before my mom decided I was ready for a pet.

  But an hour later when I came downstairs for a study snack, I heard water running in the sink. I walked in and was horrified to discover my mom rewashing every pot I’d cleaned!

  “Mom, I washed those,” I said.

  My mom looked at me guiltily. “And you did a great job,” she said. “I just wanted to give them a quick once-over.”

  The job couldn’t have been that great if they’d needed a once-over. I wasn’t even hungry for my snack anymore. Instead I headed back upstairs, determined to find other ways to prove to my mom that my flighty ways were behind me.

  8

  “Hey, Sasha,” Sofia said as she slipped into her seat at the desk in front of me. The warning bell had just rung and social studies was about to start. “How’s it going?”

  “Pretty good,” I said. “I love your sweater.”
Sofia and Jade were part of the fashionable group of girls at school—the ones who had been the first to wear makeup and who dressed like models. They always looked nice but also kind of uncomfortable—like her sweater today was woven with glitter thread that was beautiful but also kind of scratchy.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling. Some of the girls in their group were a little snobby, but not Sofia or Jade.

  The bell rang and Mr. Martin strode to the front of the room. “We’ll spend today’s class in the library researching your projects on the Ottoman Empire,” he announced.

  Kim flashed me a smile and I knew she was grateful for the extra time.

  “While we’re there I’ll be coming around to check in, see how everything’s going and what kind of help you might need,” he said. “Ms. Cho will be on hand as well. So gather up your notebooks and let’s go.”

  I grabbed my stuff and then waited by the classroom door with Kim and Taylor. “What are you doing for the festival?” Carmen asked us.

  “We’re cooking a kind of candy that they ate during the Ottoman Empire,” Taylor told her. “What about you guys?” Carmen was working with Terrell and Marlena, two of the other kids who got As on everything.

  “We’re doing what’s called a shadow play, with puppets,” Carmen said, sounding really excited. It was kind of cool how into school stuff she was. “You know how we learned that the empire was a mix of ethnic groups across a large landmass? There was this famous puppet show called Karagöz and Hacivat that kind of brought together different cultural aspects. We’re going to write a report about it and then make puppets and perform it.”

  I didn’t even have to look at Kim to know that her eyes were wide in panic.

  “Sounds great,” I said calmly.

  “All right, people, let’s go,” Mr. Martin said, opening the door and herding us out into the hall. “Silence until we reach the library, please.”

  Everyone nodded but as soon as we were out in the hall people began whispering.

  “Our project is great,” I told Kim before she could start fretting. “Carmen always does some genius project but everyone else will be doing normal things and ours will be one of the best, I promise.”

  “But she even knew how to pronounce the name of the puppet show,” Kim said. She was picking at her thumbnail as we walked.

  “I’m the new girl and even I know that that’s typical for Carmen,” Taylor said. “I mean, obviously their project will be amazing, but ours will be great too. Totally good enough to knock Mr. Martin’s socks off.”

  Kim managed a small smile at that.

  When we got to the library we gathered some books that looked promising and headed to a back table to get to work.

  “There was a job called ‘imperial food taster’ in the Ottoman Empire,” Taylor said a few minutes later. “To make sure the food was yummy enough to please the sultan. I’d like that job!”

  “Me too,” I said.

  “Oh, wait, they were also testing for poison, in case anyone tried to kill the sultan,” Taylor said with a frown after she’d read a bit more. “On second thought that wouldn’t be the job for me.”

  “Yikes, me either,” I said. “Imagine thinking you could die every time you tried a new dish.”

  “It’s interesting though,” Kim said. “It’s good information for our report.”

  “Definitely,” Taylor said, noting it down.

  “Make sure you write what book it’s from,” Kim said. “And the page.”

  I heard Taylor sigh quietly.

  “Don’t worry, we’re doing everything right,” I told Kim.

  She smiled tiredly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to nag.”

  “We know you’re worried, but trust me, it’s going to be awesome,” Taylor said reassuringly.

  Mr. Martin came over to our table. “So what are you ladies working on?” he asked.

  Taylor told him about the Turkish delight and he nodded, but then cast a glance at the back table where Danny and Alec were doing something with rubber bands instead of research.

  “Sounds like you have everything in order,” he said, a bit distracted as he headed off to the boys.

  “He didn’t seem that impressed,” Kim said, looking after him.

  “That’s because he had to stop the boys from accidently exploding the library,” Taylor said.

  We all laughed at that.

  “Hi, guys,” Dana said as the three of us sat down at our usual lunch table later that day. “What’s new?”

  “We’ve taken a trip back in time to the Ottoman Empire,” Taylor said, in a spot-on imitation of Mr. Martin that cracked us all up.

  “How’s your research going?” Emily asked, dipping her spoon into her thermos. She was one of the few people who brought her own lunch to school.

  “It’s a lot of work,” Kim said as she took out her sandwich.

  “But we’re making good progress,” Taylor said, swirling a spoon in her yogurt. “What about you guys?”

  “We can’t figure out what kind of costumes we should wear for our dance,” Naomi said glumly.

  “We have a lot of great ideas but they’d all cost way too much,” Emily said. “We’re trying to figure out what we already have that looks Ottomany.”

  “I don’t think ‘Ottomany’ is a word,” Rachel said, giggling.

  “Are you guys belly dancing?” I asked, remembering the bit I’d read about dancing in one of the books on the Ottoman Empire.

  The four of them looked horrified. “No way,” Naomi said. “Our costumes will definitely be covering our stomachs.”

  “A wise choice,” Taylor said.

  After we finished eating I pulled out a book I’d gotten at the library, one that was about animals, just to see if there were any pet ideas I’d overlooked. The first section had pictures and information about fish and other creatures that lived in the water. There were some really colorful fish, and I’d loved Finding Nemo when I was a kid, but they seemed like kind of boring pets. I mean, all they did was swim. You couldn’t hold them or play with them or anything.

  “Do you think your mom would agree to a fish?” Taylor asked, looking over my shoulder.

  “It’s probably the one thing she’d say yes to right now,” I said.

  “But you don’t want a fish, do you?” Kim asked. She was playing with her sandwich wrapper.

  I shook my head. “Not really,” I said. “I want a pet I can actually touch.” I couldn’t help thinking about dogs, but of course that wasn’t possible.

  “Maybe it’s time to consider birds,” Taylor said. “You can hold them and they’re really pretty colors.”

  That did sound good. I flipped to the section on birds.

  “The parakeets are pretty,” Kim said. “Oh, and it says you can teach them tricks. That could be cute.”

  “And they talk,” Taylor said. “Think of all the fun stuff you could teach them to say.”

  “I’d teach mine to say ‘It’s Matt’s turn to do the dishes,’” Kim said with a grin.

  “Mine would say, ‘the little sister is the best,’” Taylor said.

  Since I had no siblings I couldn’t think of anything that fun to teach a bird to say. I mean, “hello” isn’t very exciting.

  “It says they’re social, so that would be good,” Kim said.

  “It also says they need bird companions, so you should get two,” I said, frowning slightly. “My mom won’t be as excited about two birds.” I wasn’t even sure she’d be excited about one.

  “But they mate for life,” Taylor said, pointing to a paragraph. “How romantic.”

  “They also need to fly every day,” Kim said. “That would be so cool, to have a bird zooming around your house.” But then she saw my face. “Oh, but that could get messy, couldn’t it.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “A bird might not be right after all.”

  Kim squeezed my shoulder consolingly as the bell rang, but I wasn’t all that disappointed. You couldn’t really sn
uggle with a bird after all.

  As we gathered up our stuff I decided to take another pet quiz that afternoon at the shelter.

  When the final bell rang I got my stuff from my locker, making sure to grab everything I needed. There had been a couple of times I’d forgotten books or notebooks I needed for homework this year, and it always bugged my mom. So now I was taking extra care to have everything I needed. Being responsible was a lot of work, but it would be worth it if I got my pet in the end!

  Taylor and Kim were ready to go when I got to Kim’s locker, which was our meeting place because her locker was between mine and Taylor’s.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said, hoisting my backpack over my shoulder. Being more responsible meant a heavier backpack too.

  “Don’t worry about it, I just got here too,” Taylor said. I had a feeling that wasn’t true but it was nice of her to say. My friends never minded my forgetfulness and it was one of the many things I loved about them!

  The halls were still full of kids heading home or to after-school clubs, and it was loud. The end of the day was always kind of like a party, with everyone in a good mood. We stuck together as we made our way to the door, dodging a group of boys playing catch with a rolled-up pair of gym socks (no one wanted to get hit by those!) and girls huddled in groups chatting and laughing together.

  Just as we turned the corner someone slammed into Taylor from behind, knocking her forward. If Kim hadn’t grabbed her elbow she might have fallen.

  “Watch it,” I said, turning to see who had been so careless. I assumed it was one of the sock boys but it wasn’t. It was Brianna carrying a big pile of books.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. Or maybe that was just how she always sounded? “I didn’t see you there.”

  That was kind of hard to buy: Taylor was pretty tall.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Taylor said, looking slightly shaken up.

  “You should look where you’re going,” I couldn’t help telling Brianna.