by J. J. Howard
Our walk was over almost too quickly, and when I dropped him off at home, I gave him a cookie out of their kitchen stash to spend a few more minutes with him.
When I got back downstairs, Mom, Dad, and Micki were waiting for me.
“Ready?” Mom asked, and I nodded.
Mom and Dad led the way, holding hands, without telling us where we were going. I tried to guess as we passed some of my favorite restaurants, which still had only a handful of people sitting down to dinner since it was early.
When we stopped in front of Motorino, I couldn’t help but grin. Micki gave me a high five. We followed Dad inside and he led the way to a table in the back. There was a banner hanging above the table that said HAPPY BACK TO SCHOOL, KAT & MICKI!
“Oh, wow!” Micki cried, impressed.
“Sorry it’s so late,” Dad said. Mom leaned into the side hug he offered her, a smile creeping onto her face.
I wondered if it was Darius, Dad’s overworked assistant, who’d set all this up. But the thought was still nice. I joined in everyone else’s smiles. “Thanks, Dad,” I said.
We sat down and ordered our usual extra-cheese pizza and a pitcher of Coke.
“How is school going so far?” Dad asked.
“Good,” I said.
“Yep,” Micki said.
“How is Junior FBLA?” Dad asked me as I sipped my Coke.
“Fine. We’ve only had one meeting.” I thought back to our first meetup in Ms. Weinstein’s room. She was nice and friendly. She’d never led an FBLA before, and there were only a few other kids. We’d gone around the room and shared our business ideas and given one another some tips. I didn’t tell Dad that I wasn’t sure how invested the other students were.
“Only one?” Dad said. “You’ve been back in school awhile.”
“Our next meeting is tomorrow,” I said as the waiter came with our steaming, cheesy pizza. Mmm. As we all dug in, I thought about how I’d been planning to ask for a dog of my own while Dad was home. I also thought of the Four Paws questions I had for him. But somehow tonight still didn’t feel like the right time to ask Dad any of these things. Maybe I would tomorrow.
But as we finished eating, Dad cleared his throat. “Girls … I’m afraid I have some disappointing news. I wanted to let you enjoy your pizza first.”
My pizza felt suddenly heavy in my stomach.
Mom put a hand over Dad’s on the table. “Dad has to go back to Hong Kong, just for a few days hopefully.”
“Like, now?” I asked loudly.
“In the morning,” Dad said.
“What do you mean?” Micki said.
Dad frowned. “I heard from the office before dinner. They have an emergency they need my help with.”
“Tomorrow morning?” I confirmed.
“I’m sorry, girls. Hopefully it won’t be for too long this time.”
Micki and I didn’t say anything else, and I definitely could see the guilt on Dad’s face.
As I dragged my feet on the walk home, I thought of something Declan had said—that when his parents had felt guilty about him moving, he’d gotten an adorable pug puppy out of it. If I was going to be bummed about Dad never being around, maybe I could get something I wanted more than anything—a dog of my very own—out of it.
My spirits lifted as we walked inside the Burgundy. Maybe I didn’t have to wait until Dad was home again to ask. I decided that I’d start working on ideas for how to ask Mom by herself. Maybe if I made a plan, just like I’d done with Four Paws, I could make it happen.
The next day at lunch, all anyone could talk about was the school play. The auditions for Our Town were later that afternoon. Lucy and Declan were auditioning, and Taz was going to sign up to do the costumes. Two other girls in our grade who sometimes sat with us—Brooke and her best friend, Misty—joined us that day, too.
I could tell Lucy was super nervous; she barely touched her lunch. I felt nervous for her, like I always did when she had an audition coming up. But I also felt sort of not excited about her playing Declan’s wife. Why was Mr. Cornell even having us put on a play where people got married? We were in middle school!
The play was all Lucy had been able to talk about for more than a week. I kind of hoped that she’d calm down about it once she finally got the part—or didn’t. There were a few girls in our grade who loved acting, too, so it wasn’t like she would automatically get the lead. I knew that was why she was sweating the whole process so much.
“Will everyone get a part?” Brooke was asking.
“Not onstage,” Misty answered. “But everyone can do something. I mean, we need understudies for all the major parts. And also we need people to sign up for stage crew. You should audition,” she said to Brooke, who nodded.
I thought to myself that Brooke would definitely audition. Misty could be kind of overbearing, and Brooke usually went along with her plans.
Even though I know I also have a strong personality, Lucy pushes back (in a nice way) when she doesn’t agree with me. And, of course, Taz always gives me the real real. That’s probably why the three of us are best friends; we’re a good balance.
“Well, whatever part I get, I’m looking forward to it,” Declan said cheerfully. “I can meet some more people, and hopefully it’ll be fun. I did The Wizard of Oz last year at my old school, and I had a really great time. I’m still on a text thread with everyone. We have a lot of inside jokes from spending so much time doing the show.”
I found myself wanting to hear about all the jokes—but that’s not how inside jokes work. The bell rang for class, and I wished everyone luck as we all went our separate ways.
After my last class of the day, I showed up at Ms. Weinstein’s room for FBLA. But Ms. Weinstein looked stressed. The other students and I barely got through the door before she made an announcement.
“I’m sorry, kids, I have to cancel this week,” Ms. Weinstein said. “My daughter has the flu. Why don’t you all get a little further with your business proposals and we can try to meet next week?”
As we all turned to leave, I gripped the straps of my backpack. It wasn’t that I was so upset about missing FBLA. I cared more about Four Paws itself. But with all my other friends auditioning for the play right at that moment, my canceled meeting made my own extracurricular activity feel like a real bust.
And I blamed that feeling for what happened next: I found myself walking up to the sign-up sheet outside Mr. Cornell’s room, and writing my name down for stage crew.
* * *
Stage crew?! As soon as I got home, I wondered what I had been thinking. Had I really just signed up to do theater?
Sure, I wanted to spend more time with Lucy and Taz. And Declan. But, I realized as I left the apartment to walk Biscuit, maybe it was also just plain old jealousy. I knew Lucy and Declan would bond doing the show together, and I didn’t want to be left out.
Nobody likes to be left out, right? That was probably all it was.
* * *
The next day, after school, Mr. Cornell posted the cast and crew list. I gathered with the excited crowd of students to read the names. Just as Lucy had been hoping, her name was right at the top, cast as the lead character of Emily Webb. She screamed and squeezed my hand.
“Congrats!” I told her, feeling a rush of joy for my friend.
But then I felt a funny pang when I saw that Declan had gotten the part of George Gibbs—Emily’s husband. Brooke would be playing George’s sister, Rebecca. Misty got a big part, too—the Stage Manager. I thought it was probably an appropriate part for her. We’d started reading Our Town in English class, so I already knew that the Stage Manager explains everything to everybody, which is pretty much perfect for Misty.
I got the exact job I signed up for: stage crew. Thankfully, there were a few other kids on the stage crew as well, including the lighting people, the sound people, and the set-design people. Taz was the head of the costume crew, as she’d hoped to be. The understudies were listed, too: Brooke was
the understudy for Lucy’s part, and Mitchell Brown—who Lucy had been so afraid would be cast as George, her stage husband—was Declan’s.
Once Lucy had stopped squealing, she saw my name listed as stage crew and threw her arms around me in a huge hug. “I can’t believe you signed up, but I’m so glad you did!”
“It was a last-minute decision,” I said.
“I’m glad, too,” Declan said, which made my cheeks flush a little.
“Me three!” said Taz, giving me a high five.
Everyone headed into the after-school meeting in Mr. Cornell’s room, where he gave out the rehearsal schedule. Holding the paper, I started to worry about Four Paws. I wouldn’t be able to do stage crew after all if I had to be at all these rehearsals.
I went up to Mr. Cornell, feeling a little nervous since I’d never actually talked to him before. “Um, Mr. Cornell? I’m Kat Cabot. I signed up for stage crew. And I’d really like to do it, but now that I see the schedule, if I have to be at all the rehearsals, I won’t be able to—”
Mr. Cornell put up one hand. “Hi, Kat. Thank you for signing up for stage crew. We really need the help. But since there are several kids on the stage crew, you don’t have to be at all the rehearsals. I would mostly need you the two weeks leading up to the play. Do you think you could do that?”
Whew. “I’ll see if I can. Thanks, Mr. Cornell.”
“Be sure to let me know ASAP if you can’t,” he told me.
I walked over to rejoin Lucy, Declan, and Taz. “What was that about? You weren’t quitting already?” Lucy asked.
“No. I mean, not yet. It’s just—Four Paws has to come first for me. We’ve made a commitment to our clients. Mr. Cornell said I mostly have to do the two weeks leading up to the play. But I also have a huge project for social studies. I just don’t know how I can fit it all in.” I put a hand to my forehead and tried to breathe. “We can barely keep up with all our Four Paws clients as it is!”
“What if you had another dog walker in the mix?” Declan asked. “To help with Four Paws?” He gave me a meaningful smile.
“Ooh, that’s a great idea!” Lucy exclaimed.
I blinked at him. “Do you mean you? Declan … that’d be great! But you just got this big part …”
“Yes, but Mr. C rehearses us in groups for the first week or so. I won’t have to be at all those rehearsals,” Declan explained. “What if I helped out now and then you could finish your social studies project before the play really heats up?”
Declan, becoming our fourth Paw? It really did seem kind of perfect. I couldn’t help but smile.
“What do you think?” I asked Taz and Lucy.
They both nodded. “Sounds awesome to me,” Taz said.
I extended my hand for Declan to shake. “Deal. Welcome to Four Paws.”
Declan laughed and shook back. “Deal.”
I asked everyone to wait for me while I went to get Micki, who was playing on her tablet and sitting in the hall. Oof—Micki. I really hadn’t thought everything through before jumping in to sign up for the play—if I stayed after school for rehearsals, Micki would be stuck here, too. Mom and Dad would never let her walk home alone, and Mom had to work and couldn’t come and get her. I guessed I’d just have to ask Mom if it would be okay if Micki stayed and did her homework and waited for me during the two weeks leading up to Our Town.
When I got home and asked Mom, she surprised me by saying, “You’re helping with the play? That’s great!” I guess she was pleased I was doing more extracurricular activities.
“But Micki …” I started to remind her.
“Micki can stay after school for a few days. She can do her homework. Maybe she’ll find an interest in drama, too. You never know.”
“Okay. Should I tell her?”
“Let’s wait until that week,” Mom said, smiling conspiratorially.
“Deal,” I said, for the second time in two hours.
* * *
Later that evening, I knocked on the Thompsons’ door to pick up Meatball for our walk.
Dan Sr. answered. “Hi, Kat,” he said. “Come on in.”
I walked in and was glad that everything seemed calmer than usual. I felt bad for the Thompsons when it was chaotic in their apartment. Sometimes I thought little Meatball looked like he wanted to go somewhere calmer and quieter, too.
“How are you guys?” I asked, looking around for Meatball.
“Doing okay. How’s school?”
“It’s okay,” I answered. Where was Meatball?
“DJ’s school finally started last week. Thank goodness,” he added with a laugh. I didn’t join in; I’m not Dan Jr.’s biggest fan since I don’t think he’s super nice to Meatball, but I wouldn’t ever say anything to his parents, of course.
Finally, I spotted my Meatball. And I realized why he hadn’t come running when I came into the apartment. He was very focused on scratching himself.
“Hey, Meatball!” I called. He looked up, but almost seemed to frown, and kept scratching.
“What’s the matter with him?” I asked Dan, who made a puzzled face.
“I don’t know,” Dan said. “He wasn’t doing that before.”
I crouched down beside him. “Hey.” I grabbed his back paw, and he looked up at me, a mournful expression in his dark eyes. I could have sworn he was trying to say, Help me, Kat!
“He’s really itchy,” I said to Dan, but he was typing on his phone and didn’t seem to hear me. I felt a surge of frustration. If only Meatball were my dog. His super itchiness wouldn’t be a distraction—it would be, like, the main focus of life.
Dan looked over at me. “Did you need anything?” he asked me.
It seemed like a dismissal. I got his message. I was supposed to take Meatball for his walk, like they were paying me for.
I scooped up my itchy little Meatball in my arms. He licked my face once, and I gave him one quick kiss on his head. I carried him to the doorway and put him into his harness. “We’ll be back in a little while,” I said to Dan.
“Okay, thanks.”
Once we were walking outside in the sunshine, Meatball stopped scratching, mostly. But then he stopped to smell the grass and then ended up plopping down to go after the itch again. I knelt down and looked him over; his belly was much pinker than usual. Maybe I could find something to soothe his skin. The pet supply store over on 81st Street would probably have something. I thought about taking Meatball back to his family’s apartment while I went to the store, but the idea of sending him back there with no one, maybe, to stop him scratching … the skin on his poor belly was already so inflamed!
It was kind of far to carry him—I mean, Meatball did love his treats so he wasn’t light. It wouldn’t be like carrying Declan’s tiny little Spark Pug. Of course, Declan had that handy carrier. That was it! I knew what I needed: a way to carry Meatball. The Worthingtons on the seventh floor had a dog carriage down in their basement storage that they sometimes used to walk their Yorkie-poo, Meredith. And I had the key, since I was the one who usually walked Meredith. I didn’t think the Worthingtons would mind if I borrowed their dog carriage. I could ask them … but I knew for a fact that they were still in Palm Beach.
My heart started beating a little bit faster as Meatball and I headed back toward the Burgundy. I knew what I was doing was at least a little bit wrong. But it was for a good cause.
I’d do almost anything for my Meatball.
Marcel waved me through the door when I went into the storage area, and he didn’t even blink when I walked back out pushing the stroller ahead of me, Meatball tucked safely inside.
Back out on the sidewalk, I looked down at him as we walked. The little guy really seemed to be enjoying his ride! He was sitting up and looking around. He was only scratching a little bit. We made it to the pet supply store, where every customer oohed and aahed at how cute he was in his little (borrowed) stroller. And for Meatball’s part, he was totally soaking up all the attention, his tongue hanging out
to one side, only an occasional itch to remind me why we’d had to come here.
I decided to wait to put on the cream until we’d returned the stroller so none of it would get on the blanket or the pad inside.
I patted Meatball on the head and he let out a happy bark.
When we got back to the Burgundy, I was surprised to see Marcel frowning when I pushed Meatball inside the lobby.
He stepped forward and peered into the stroller. “That’s not Meredith,” he said, raising an eyebrow at me.
My whole body seemed to go cold in a matter of a second, and my head felt strange. I never got in trouble. Because I always followed the rules. So this was an entirely new, and completely terrible, experience. “No,” I admitted. “It’s Meatball.”
“I know Meatball,” Marcel said. “When you took the stroller out of storage, I assumed you were taking the Worthingtons’ dog. Did you ask them to use the stroller for another dog?”
I thought, very briefly, of lying. But what if Marcel had already checked? And more importantly, I knew I couldn’t do it. So I just shook my head.
Marcel looked at me sadly. “That’s not like you, Kat,” he said, and then I felt even worse. “I remembered that the Worthingtons took Meredith with them on their trip. I almost called them. And if something like this happens again, I certainly will.”
“I’m so sorry!” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “Marcel, I really didn’t mean to cause a problem. I just—I thought it was the perfect solution to borrow the stroller, just for a little. I’m sorry,” I repeated. “It won’t happen again.”
Marcel nodded. I guessed he was waiting to take the stroller back from me. He wasn’t even going to trust me down in the storage area again. I understood. But it still stung. I reached down to pick up Meatball and held him close as I watched Marcel take the stroller away.
