“Oh, you know. Babysitting,” Sage said, never taking her eyes off Martin.
“Oh, Sage, I’d like you to meet someone. This is Martin Abernathy Pratt.” Malia had always thought there was something about saying full names that made people seem more appealing. Not that such a thing was necessary in this particular instance.
“H-h-h-hi!” squeaked Sage.
“I was just showing Martin around Playa del Mar. You know, the mall, Marvelous Ray’s, stuff like that,” Malia said.
“Oh, really?” Sage said, totally taking the bait. “That sounds like SO much fun.”
“Oh, it is,” said Malia. “Basically the most fun.”
Sage frowned.
“Too bad you have to babysit,” said Malia, really driving the point home.
“I know. I really wish I could join you.”
“The mall!” said Martin, somewhat inexplicably.
“Oh my god, you know what? I have an idea,” said Malia, like she hadn’t been plotting this exact moment.
“You do?” said Sage, hinging on Malia’s every word.
“Yes. So, like, I have a ton of homework, and the full tour could take a long time. Sage, would you be comfortable showing Martin around without me?”
Sage looked like she might explode with enthusiasm.
“Of course. I mean, yes. I mean, I’d love to.” Then her face fell again. “But what about babysitting?”
“Oh, that’s no problem. I can take over here until the parents get home.”
“Really?” Sage said, with a level of enthusiasm that was way more appropriate for, say, stumbling upon one’s own surprise party than it was for hanging out with Martin.
“Of course!” said Malia.
“The mall!” said Martin again.
“You guys have fun at the mall,” said Malia, quickly ushering them off before Martin could speak again and potentially ruin her perfect plan. Still, given Sage’s expression, she had a feeling he could say virtually anything and it wouldn’t matter. “Enjoy the tour! Play some games! Eat some cheese fries for me!”
Sage waved at Malia, mouthing thank you behind Martin’s back.
No, thank YOU, Malia thought, closing the door be-hind her.
She breathed a sigh of relief. She heard the familiar sound of the Gregory children laughing in the living room. She felt the presence of Connor—her Connor, sort of—somewhere in the house next door. It may have been one small step, but Malia knew that soon enough, everything would be back to how it should be.
“Mawia! Wheya have you been?” asked Jonah, appearing from the living room. He made a beeline for Malia’s leg, which he promptly attached himself to.
“I was just taking care of some business!” Malia said. “And now I’m here to hang out with you!”
“Yayyyyyy,” said Jonah.
“MALIA!” shouted Plum, running into the room. “We missed you!”
“I missed you, too!” said Malia. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to.”
“Mawia! I want to show you my dwawings,” said Jonah. “I made a pitcha of you!”
“You drew a picture of me?” said Malia. She thought she felt her heart melting, just a little bit.
“He did,” said Plum. “It’s actually pretty good. You’re wearing a striped shirt and everything.”
“Wow! I’m flattered! And I can’t wait to see it.” Yep. Definitely heart melt.
“You should hang out fowevah,” said Jonah.
“Okay,” said Malia. “That sounds like a plan.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Bree
“I know you hate me, but I’m still sad,” said Bree.
Veronica said nothing.
Bree had tried her very best, but her mom had finally had enough. The curtains were shredded to smithereens, the planters had all been compromised, and the piano would never sound the same. Despite many very passionate protests on Bree’s part, today was the day Veronica went back to the cat café.
Bree had tried to make Veronica happy, but she had only failed. Veronica had been telling her all along, in cat language, that this was not the right home for him, and Bree was not his person. She knew it was wrong to keep him in a place that made him so unhappy, and she had accepted that it was time to let him go. She could only hope that he would find his way to the right home.
“Veronica, I thought we could do better.” Bree sighed. “Life isn’t going to be the same without you.”
Still, Veronica said nothing.
Bree picked up a silver sequined pillow from the floor and placed it back on the bed. The sequins sparkled a bit in the sunlight, making tiny glimmers of light dance on the bedroom walls. At the sight of the pillow, Veronica’s eyes flashed. Just as quickly, he was airborne, claws swatting at the air.
“Hey . . . wait a second.” Bree suddenly had a thought. Not just any thought—a thought that could save everything. Could it be?
She decided to conduct a little experiment. Bree picked up the pillow and held it up so it caught the light. She turned it slowly from side to side, allowing the silver sequins to sparkle in the sun. Just as she suspected, Veronica reacted furiously, meowing and hissing and violently clawing at the carpet. “I see,” said Bree as she buried the pillow safely underneath her comforter. “It’s gone,” she said.
Just as dramatically, Veronica calmed down. He plopped down on the rug and started licking his foot as though nothing had ever happened. Bree couldn’t believe she didn’t see it before.
“You hate glitter,” she said.
“Meow,” said Veronica. Bree couldn’t be sure, but for a split second, it looked like he may have smiled.
Suddenly, everything was crystal clear. Veronica hated glitter. Glitter was Bree’s favorite color. Everything in her room was glittery, and she was almost always covered in it. Glitter purses, glitter nail polish, glitter eye shadow, glitter leggings . . . almost everything Bree owned was doused in some kind of sparkles. She even had a glittery garbage can.
Bree thought back to the times she had tried to dress Veronica in glittery outfits, and the few times she had even succeeded. She thought of the glittery mice and his complete refusal to play with them. She thought of all the glittery objects covering every inch of her room and how often they would catch the light. Those were the moments he’d behaved like an absolute psychopath. But when Bree was dressed in plain clothes, like after school when Brody came over, Veronica acted fine.
“MOM! COME QUICK!” Bree yelled.
“Yes?” Her mom appeared at the doorway, panicked.
“I figured it out!” Bree shouted. “Veronica hates glitter!”
“What? What are you talking about?” asked her mom.
“I did an experiment, and I know why he acts out! Shiny things make him go nuts.”
Bree’s mom crossed her arms. “Are you sure you’re not just saying this because you don’t want to return him?”
“No! Look.”
Bree demonstrated, this time taking a bejeweled hoodie out of her closet and holding it up in the air. At the sight of sparkles, Veronica arched his back and started to hiss. Bree approached him, holding the hoodie out in front of her.
Veronica let out a deranged screech and proceeded to scramble up the already-shredded curtains. Safely out of the glitter’s way, he perched on top of the curtain rod, scowling.
“Okay, okay! I believe you,” said Bree’s mom. “What a special animal.”
Bree put the hoodie back in her closet and closed the door. Veronica waited a moment to be sure the coast was clear, then slowly made his way down the curtains.
“Meow,” he said, and curled up near Bree’s feet.
“Look! He’s basically a regular cat!” Bree exclaimed. “He just hates glitter!”
“Meow,” said Veronica in agreement.
“So can we keep him?” she pleaded. “Please? Can we try one more time, to see if he behaves without any glitter around?”
Bree’s mom thought for a moment. �
��If this glitter business really is true, you’ll have to make some pretty big changes around here.”
Bree sighed. Her mom was right. Glitter was her greatest love, besides cats. If this was ever going to work, she would have to change her entire lifestyle. New room, new wardrobe, new look. “A life without sparkles,” she whispered. It sounded so plain.
“Meow!” said Veronica, looking up at her with his big yellow eyes.
Veronica was like her baby. Her very needy, very misunderstood baby. When she signed up for pet parenthood, she didn’t expect it to be anything like this. For starters, she thought it would be more fun. Bree had expected to feed him and to bathe him and, sure, to clean the litter box from time to time. She expected it to be work. She didn’t expect it to include sacrifice.
Bree glanced around her room, taking a mental tally of all the glittery things she would have to say goodbye to. Was this what growing up felt like? Painful and confusing and utterly impossible? Bree feared the answer was yes.
“Meow?” Veronica blinked.
“I know,” Bree said. “Life is confusing.”
Bree reasoned she could still visit glitter at the mall. She could still decorate with glitter in her locker at school. Most importantly, the spirit of glitter could live on forever, in her heart.
“All right,” said Bree, firm in her decision. “No more glitter.”
She hoped it was worth it.
For the second time maybe ever, Veronica purred.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dot
Dot placed exactly five drops of the formula in the test tube and waited. Within seconds, it began to fizz. She recorded her observations, satisfied with its progress. Since the fair was over, she was amazed at how relaxing her actual science class had become (although not everyone shared the sentiment).
At the next table over, Pigeon sat working on the same experiment, but in her case it wasn’t going as swimmingly. She seemed dejected. She sat with her shoulders hunched, her head hanging low. She stopped between every step to stare listlessly around the room. Not even the sequin denim jacket she was wearing in place of a lab coat could make the situation look any better.
She couldn’t believe it, but Dot actually felt kind of bad for her. The situation reminded her of one of her mom’s favorite sayings: “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”
Dot reluctantly realized that “everyone” also included Pigeon.
After Pigeon had been disqualified, Dot had been awarded the grand prize, chilly bees and all. So the world had a sense of justice, after all. Pigeon had brought this on herself the moment she had chosen to lie. Still, it was also a terrible way to start off one’s seventh-grade career, especially at a new school. Pigeon had already made a reputation for herself, and Dot couldn’t imagine how embarrassing that must feel.
After lab, Dot was cleaning up her station when she sensed someone standing over her.
“Hey,” came Pigeon’s gravelly voice.
Dot reluctantly glanced up. Just because she felt sympathy for Pigeon didn’t mean she wanted to talk to her. She hadn’t only cheated the system; she had taken advantage of a five-year-old child. She could still recall Aloysius’s anger and disappointment when he discovered what had happened.
“I’m sorry for what went down with the science fair. I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t even realize I was cheating, really. I just wanted to have a great project so everyone would be impressed.”
“Okay,” Dot said flatly.
Maybe Pigeon wasn’t a bad person. Maybe she was just a middle school student who recently moved away from the only home she had ever known and was navigating a place where she didn’t know anyone and they didn’t know her. Dot thought about how the last few weeks had been for her, feeling displaced by the presence of just one new person. How hard must it be to have everything around you be new? And to have to show everyone what you’re all about?
Pigeon may have been a lying liar-face, but she was still a human being. Human beings made mistakes. And maybe Dot owed her just one more chance.
“All right,” said Dot finally. “Consider it a clean slate.” Dot was willing to try. Maybe, with time, she could learn to tolerate or maybe even enjoy Pigeon’s presence.
“Thank you,” said Pigeon, extending her hand. “Also, congratulations on your win. It was well deserved.”
Dot tentatively reached out and shook Pigeon’s hand.
“Thanks,” she said, cracking a small smile.
For once, Pigeon was right.
* * *
“This is better,” Aloysius said. “This is so much better.”
All three original sitters had gathered to watch Aloysius after school. They were so excited to be back babysitting, they’d decided to make it a group endeavor.
Bree raided her family’s cabinets and brought a backpack stuffed with her own weight in snacks. They’d spread everything out all over the floor, and were taking the time to catch up on everything they’d missed in the last few weeks. It felt more like a party than a paying job.
“So, where did you put your trophy?” he asked.
“On my bookshelf,” Dot said.
“If you want an extra set of hands leading up to the county science fair, I’m happy to help,” he said. “It wouldn’t count as cheating! The work would be all yours. I could be your apprentice.”
“I appreciate that, and I might take you up on it.”
Dot’s plan was to revamp the hive coolant device over the course of the coming weeks, and an apprentice would be very helpful. Now that she was back to babysitting, time with Aloysius was a given.
“How’s Veronica?” Aloysius asked.
“Like a whole new cat,” Bree said, munching on cheddar popcorn. “I also have a whole new wardrobe, but I’m starting to get used to it.”
“You can find new ways to express yourself now,” said Dot.
In the absence of glitter, Bree had taken to wearing bright colors. Today she wore neon pink jeans and a neon pink shirt.
“Yeah,” Bree conceded. “Veronica is worth it. I’m so in love with his wrinkly face.”
“I understand what it means to fall in love with a face.” Malia sighed.
“We know you do,” said Dot.
“Speaking of love,” said Bree. “Would it be totally cheesy to say that I love being here? And that I love all of you?”
“Yes, it would be totally cheesy,” said Dot.
“But seriously, I’m proud of us,” said Malia. “We hired the satellite sitters because we wanted growth. And maybe it wasn’t the kind of growth we were after, but I think we’ve all made a bunch of personal progress lately, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes,” said Dot.
“I agree, but now can we stop growing for a minute?” said Bree. “I’m tired.”
“I’m exhausted,” said Malia.
“Dr. Puffin says sometimes the best thing you can do is to stand still to really appreciate the moment.”
“Stillness,” said Aloysius, thinking. “You know, Einstein said, ‘I think ninety-nine times and find nothing. I stop thinking, swim in stillness, and the answer comes to me.’ ”
“Deep,” said Malia.
Dot looked around the room, doing her best to appreciate the moment. Seeing her best friends and the amazing little boy before her, she realized, in that moment, she had everything she had ever wanted.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Malia
Malia was once told that success happens when opportunity meets preparation. (She was offered this gem by Ramona, who at the time was trying to make a point about how Malia hadn’t prepared properly for connecting a conference call with a Supreme Court justice.) As with most things in Malia’s world, whenever she looked back on this advice, she wondered how she could apply it to the most elusive of enterprises: Connor.
Preparation + Opportunity = Success.
Malia had certainly prepared. She observed him. She researched his favorite th
ings. She imagined their conversations. She’d attended a concert for him. She even tried to practice the manifesting techniques Dot’s mom was always talking about. It was quite possible that Malia had never been more prepared for anything. But that was only one side of success. She was still waiting on opportunity.
Finally, on one random Tuesday afternoon, opportunity came knocking.
Malia was going for a walk when she decided to wander past the Gregory house—okay fine, she was walking by Connor’s house. Whatever. As always, she slowed down as she approached the block, just in case he was in the vicinity.
“Heads up!” yelled a voice. The voice. Malia knew that voice anywhere. She was prepared for that voice.
She turned to see not only the glorious face that the voice came out of, but also a soccer ball, sailing in her direction. She didn’t have time to think. She barely had time to react. So she did what any self-respecting person (with somewhat decent eye-hand coordination) would do: she kicked the ball back. And then—OH MY GOD WHAT WAS HAPPENING—Connor kicked the ball back to her.
It went on this way for what felt like an eternity but was actually three and a half minutes. They might have been the most beautiful three and a half minutes of Malia’s life.
“You’re pretty good at passing,” Connor said.
They were the nicest words Malia had ever heard.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Sure,” said Connor.
“Do you want to, like, play a game on purpose sometime?” Malia asked. “Like at Marvelous Ray’s or something?” She had no idea where the words were coming from. Had she just asked Connor Kelly on a sort of, maybe date?
“Yeah! That sounds great,” said Connor.
HE SAID YES.
Just then, Aidan Morrison appeared near the side of the yard.
Go away, Aidan, thought Malia. But he didn’t go away. Instead he made noise, the way boys so often do.
“Connor!” he called. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah!” Connor yelled back. “Bye, Malia,” he said with a small wave, as he started to dribble away.
Once again, Malia found herself in a very familiar position: staring at Connor’s back. But this time, she was also full of hope that maybe, just maybe, this was a step in the right direction.
The Good, the Bad, and the Bossy Page 17
