Pugs and Kisses

by J. J. Howard

  “I have an older sister, but she’s away at college. How about you guys?”

  “I’m an only, but Ana has an older sister, too.”

  “Another thing we have in common,” Calvin said to me.

  “Another thing?” Phoebe asked.

  “We both love pugs,” Calvin said.

  “Your dog’s a pug, huh?”

  Calvin nodded. “Best dogs in the world.”

  “So how do you like New York?” I jumped in to ask him, hoping to steer the conversation away from pugs. I was also curious as to what he would say. I, for one, couldn’t imagine being from anywhere else. I’d lived in the city my whole life—we’d even lived in our same apartment on Avenue C since I was two.

  A shadow seemed to pass over Calvin’s face, but then he replaced it with a smile. “It’s really different from where we used to live,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen much so far, with the move and school and everything. I’m actually saving up for a bike. Then I’ll be able to see more of the city.”

  The lunch dismissal bell rang. Phoebe got to her feet and I turned to Calvin, gathering up my courage.

  “I’m glad you go to our school,” I told Calvin in a rush. “Now I know for sure I’ll see you again.”

  He nodded. “And probably at the dog park later, too.”

  “Probably,” I agreed. But I didn’t get to say any more since Phoebe had already started walking toward the doors. I stood up from the table. “Well, bye.”

  “Bye,” Calvin said.

  “Where’s the fire?” I asked Phoebe when we reached the hallway.

  “No fire. I just don’t want to be late for coding and get stuck with the slow computer again.”

  “Calvin seems really nice, doesn’t he?”

  Phoebe gave me a strange look. “Yeah. But did you forget his performance in Bowen’s class? Maybe you shouldn’t get too attached. I mean, I’d hate to see you lose out on the prize to some kid who just showed up halfway through the year.”

  I nodded, frowning as her words sank in. I knew Phoebe was right. My biggest competition up until now had been Laila Abadi, who was practically a genius. I had a slightly higher grade point average than she did. But now here was Calvin.

  “Computer summer program. Bronx High School of Science. Scholarship to MIT. Software engineering gig at Google or somewhere equally amazing.” Phoebe repeated my own mantra to me. “My advice? Don’t let some random boy from Florida get in the way of that. No matter how cute.” She added the last part with a raised eyebrow, as though daring me to contradict—or admit—her claim that Calvin was cute.

  “He is cute,” I told her, holding her gaze. “But you’re right. Nothing gets in the way.”

  “That’s my girl,” Phoebe said, linking arms as we walked down the hall.

  “And you’re gonna get a scholarship to USC and be a show runner on your own TV show by the age of twenty-five.” I recited Phoebe’s mantra back to her and she nodded with a determined look on her face.

  “I’ve been thinking I should change the age to thirty,” she said. “I know that sounds super old, but what if I’m already writing for a successful show? Might learn some more tricks of the trade before I start my own.”

  “Good call.” I nudged her. “I can’t wait to visit you on set. I’ll know someone famous.”

  “The writers aren’t famous,” Phoebe said. “But I’ll know the actors, and they will be famous!”

  I grinned. It was always fun to talk about the future with Phoebe.

  As we walked into coding class and I took a seat at my computer station, I thought about Calvin again. I wondered if he’d be in any more of my classes, so I could see just how good of a student he was. Maybe he was only great at history. Then my mind flashed back to how sweet he’d been on Saturday, when he’d carried my bag for me in the rain.

  As if I’d caused him to appear with the power of my thoughts, Calvin walked in the door to coding class.

  “Hi again,” he said. “Mind if I sit with you guys?”

  Phoebe raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything else.

  “I don’t mind,” I told him. And the problem was, even with the potential competition brewing, I really didn’t.

  Ms. Vasquez came rushing in just as the bell was ringing. “Okay, class,” she said, “everybody please navigate to our training page for Ruby.”

  I loved coding class, but I already knew Ruby really well—I was hoping to learn a new language, like Scratch. Ms. V had promised she’d set something up for me, but when I glanced beside me and saw Calvin’s look of confusion, I knew what I’d be doing that class period. I often ended up helping out my classmates.

  “I’ll show you how to get to the site,” I told him. I gestured to Calvin’s keyboard and he nodded gratefully and moved a little out of the way so I could type.

  I was showing Calvin how to navigate the training site when Ms. Vasquez came to stand behind us.

  “You must be Calvin,” she said. “Welcome to the class. You’re on the right track already—just stick with Ana and you’ll be coding like a pro in no time. She’s my star student.” Ms. V gave me a wink and I smiled, feeling a warm glow.

  “Thanks, Ana,” Calvin said to me, and my glow turned into a blush.

  “You’ve never done this before, huh?” Phoebe leaned over me to ask Calvin.

  “No, we didn’t have a coding class at my old school. But it sounds really interesting.”

  “Well, I don’t know how you’ll ever catch up on everything you missed all year,” Phoebe said. “But Ms. V’s right—if anybody can help you, it’s Ana,” she added with a grin, then returned to her own computer.

  “Don’t listen to Phoebe,” I told Calvin. “You’ll catch up.”

  I started typing fast, entering all the registration stuff for Calvin—his name and the school’s address.

  “Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever move fast enough to catch up in this place,” Calvin said softly, too low for anybody but me to hear. When I looked up, I expected him to look sad or upset, but he was wearing his usual smile again. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go—I’m ready to code!”

  But his quiet comment stayed with me, and it seemed to me that that had been the truth, and not the confident smile he’d put back on his face a few seconds later.

  IDEA #1:

  Site for taking homework notes.

  Function: Type notes into a template on the site that is then searchable by key words, to answer questions quickly in class.

  Working-title ideas:

  Notesearch

  Searchable Homework

  Just Call Me Hermione

  After school that day, in the park, I ran right into Calvin.

  He was coming out of the double gates to the dog run. I was looking down, trying to get the outer gate open—not realizing that it wasn’t opening because Calvin was pushing the other way.

  I looked up in surprise and we both laughed.

  “Ana!” Calvin said. “Hey, we almost missed you. Pancake and I were about to head home. But we can hang out for a few more minutes.”

  “That’d be great,” I said, recovering from my surprise and following him back into the dog run. Osito hurried forward, straining at his leash and barking at Pancake. I laughed as Pancake barked right back. I unclipped Osito’s leash, and Calvin did the same for Pancake. We watched as the two pugs dashed off together, jumping and playing. It was too cute.

  “What are you drinking?” I asked Calvin. He was holding a half-full tumbler with a lid, and the liquid inside was bright green.

  “A smoothie. My mom came up with the recipe for this one—she calls it The Hulk.”

  “Huh. Well, it looks very … healthy. So how was your first day at MS 110?” I asked.

  “Good. I really liked a couple of the teachers so far. Mr. Bowen seems really nice.”

  “Yeah. He’s great.”

  “Is history your favorite subject?” Calvin asked.

  “Nah, that’s got to be
coding class. I want to be a software engineer someday.”

  “I should have guessed that, based on how good you are at coding,” Calvin said, and I blushed again. I wished I wouldn’t do that so much.

  I glanced over at Osito and Pancake. Now they were rolling around and around together like a big round pug ball. I giggled.

  Calvin started laughing, too. “Must be nice to be a dog. You just have to play, eat, and sleep. Though I guess it would get boring.”

  “Probably. Dogs can’t read about history.”

  “Or write code.”

  “Do you think you want to study history when you get older?” I asked Calvin.

  “Maybe,” he said. “My ultimate dream would be to work at the United Nations—ultimate-ultimate would be to sit on the UN Security Council.”

  I was impressed. Calvin was obviously smart, and like me, he had big plans. That wasn’t too common with kids our age, I knew. But then I heard Phoebe’s voice in my head saying: Competition!

  Calvin’s phone buzzed and he glanced down at the screen. “Oh, that’s my dad,” he said. “Pancake and I should head home now.”

  I was surprised to feel a swell of disappointment.

  “But, hey,” Calvin added, brightening. “You and Osito could come with us—for dinner? Pancake and Osito could have, what do they call it with little kids? A playdate! Pancake really seems to love playing with Osito …” He didn’t have to finish his sentence, just gestured to the two of them, still playing happily. Now they were running circles around a stick together.

  Dinner? My mind raced. My parents might allow me to go to dinner at a classmate’s house last minute. But what would I tell Mrs. Ramirez about Osito? She was expecting him home in a few minutes.

  “Um, I’d love to,” I said, frantically trying to come up with an excuse, “but I’ll have to take a rain check. I promised my sister I’d help her clean out her … aquarium tonight.”

  What? I cringed at my own words. Tali didn’t have an aquarium, for crying out loud.

  “Oh,” Calvin said. “Okay, well, if it’s a fish emergency.”

  “It’s not an emergency exactly, but I promised, you know, and it gets pretty dirty in there, and the water is like their air. Can you imagine trying to breathe dirty air … ?” I trailed off. Why was I so terrible at lying? And worse than that, why was I even lying in the first place?

  But Calvin was putting Pancake back into her harness. “Some other time,” he said. Then he was waving good-bye … he was walking away, and I’d lost my moment to admit that Osito belonged to my neighbor, so that was why I had to take him back. The thought of running after Calvin and confessing … now … seemed ridiculous.

  “See you at school tomorrow,” Calvin called over his shoulder. I watched him head west. Then I gathered up a forlorn-looking Osito and headed toward home.

  I delivered Osito back to Mrs. R, and then went downstairs and got to work on my history homework. No matter how nice Calvin was, I still had no intention of not knowing the answer to any of Mr. Bowen’s questions tomorrow in class.

  * * *

  Mom called me to come out for dinner. I went into the kitchen, where Tali was moving party supplies off the table so she could put down our place settings.

  My mouth started watering as Mom carried over a big platter of pollo horneado—baked chicken. Papi followed with a big bowl filled with salad. Talisa went to the fridge, coming back with two bottles of salad dressing.

  “Gracias, mija,” Mom told her. She usually only used Spanish when she was either angry or annoyed—or when she was feeling very happy. Based on the mess that surrounded us, I had a feeling it wasn’t the last one.

  “So how was everyone’s day?” Papi asked as we all sat down and dug into our meal.

  Well, I’m still a little upset about my disappointing birthday. I’m still a lot upset at myself for chickening out on asking for a rescue dog. I’m worried the new boy in school will be my competition for the Crown Point Prize. I’m also worried that I find this new boy cute. AND I’m trying to figure out why I told this same new boy that I had to help Tali with her AQUARIUM.

  “Fine,” I said aloud. Wow, this lying thing was really a slippery slope.

  “How about you, Talisa?” Papi asked.

  “It was okay. But I have a polynomials quiz tomorrow and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to crush it.”

  Both our parents looked confused for a second, but then they clearly figured out what Tali meant. English was my parents’ second language, so they didn’t always get our expressions—such as what “crushing” or “not crushing” something was all about.

  “Your sister can help you,” Mom said. “She’s very good in math.”

  Tali groaned. “But Ana’s still in middle school. I’m in tenth grade. If she can do my homework, I’m quitting school right now.”

  I concentrated on my chicken and didn’t say what I’d been about to say, which was that I probably could help Tali. We’d done some polynomials in my intro to algebra class this year.

  “And how about your day, Teresa?” Papi asked Mami.

  Our Mami gave a groan of her own and started telling Papi about her day at work in rapid Spanish. She worked at a doctor’s office, and to hear her stories, the other girls who worked there—she always called them girls—were just about useless. Then she switched to English and started listing all the things she’d gotten in the past couple of days for Tali’s party.

  “We’ve got the napkins, and the string lights finally came in, though one had a bulb out so I have to send them back, which is a pain but at least we have time.”

  “You bought the string lights after all?” Papi asked. “I thought we talked about trying to borrow some?”

  Mom sighed. “Whatever we get now we can use for Ana’s quince, too.”

  “Great,” I said. “Now not only do I have this giant fluffy party to look forward to, but everything at the party will be hand-me-downs?”

  I got a sharp look from Mom, but then her features softened. “Hija. Is this about me forgetting your cupcake? I told you I was sorry, and I meant it.”

  “I know.” I waved a hand in the air. “It’s not about that. It’s just all this quince craziness. It’s taking over the house and it’s still like a month away.”

  “Don’t worry—we’ll make just as big a fuss for your fifteenth,” Papi said.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said.

  My fishy lie didn’t buy me much time. The next morning, when I was at my locker, Calvin appeared and invited Osito and me over for some pug bonding on Saturday.

  I’d been ready to set Calvin straight about Osito being my neighbor’s dog. Even though I knew I’d waited too long, and it was officially weird now, I’d still decided to come clean. My awkward fib about helping Tali with her nonexistent aquarium kept echoing in my head, and it made me feel embarrassed and kind of uncomfortable.

  But then Calvin explained why he was so set on Osito coming to play with Pancake.

  “So the thing is, Pancake’s been … depressed, I guess?” Calvin said as we stood facing each other. “Ever since we moved here. She used to be so playful, but lately she just lies on the floor and looks up at me with these sad eyes. But not when your dog’s around.”

  “I, so—” I cleared my throat, getting ready to say that Osito, wasn’t, um, my dog. But Calvin continued, clearly intent on sharing his worries about Pancake.

  “When she’s with Osito, it’s like Pancake’s back to her old self. So I was hoping they could spend some more time together. Maybe help pull Pancake out of her funk.”

  How could I say no to that? First of all, Osito himself had seemed down lately, and he definitely perked up around Pancake. Plus, it broke my heart to think of Pancake being sad.

  I also remembered the look that had passed over Calvin’s face when I’d asked him how he was liking New York City. And his quiet comment in coding class. I had to wonder if maybe Calvin wasn’t having all that easy of a t
ransition, either.

  “I’ll ask my parents to make sure, but, yeah—that sounds great,” I said. “Osito would love it.”

  “Great,” Calvin said, his face breaking into an adorable smile that made my heart flip over. “Let’s exchange numbers now so we can text each other on Saturday if we need to.”

  I’d never traded phone numbers with a boy before, but I tried to act calm as I gave Calvin my number and then he gave me his. It’s all for the pugs, I told myself.

  When we were done, Calvin gave me a me a thumbs-up and then headed away toward his own locker.

  I bit my lip, thinking ahead to Saturday. I usually took Osito for his walks early in the morning and in the afternoon. Never during dinnertime. I had to figure out what I was going to say to Mrs. Ramirez so that “my” dog could go cheer up Calvin’s dog. Maybe with a little planning I could come up with something convincing.

  * * *

  I was on my way to lunch when Calvin texted me.

  It was a meme: a sad-faced pug being forced to wear a ridiculous frog costume.

  I stifled a giggle and started searching for something to send back. I saw that there were a lot of pug memes out there, so I chose one: another grumpy-faced pug, this time with the phrase I DIDN’T CHOOSE THE PUG LIFE—THE PUG LIFE CHOSE ME.

  I was sitting down in the cafeteria when a new text from Calvin came in. This one was a screenshot of an Instagram post. The account was called potato_the_pug and the profile picture was of a cute light brown pug that looked a little like Pancake. The dog was wearing a bumblebee costume, and his sad, wrinkly face made me laugh out loud.

  “What are you doing?” Phoebe asked as she sat down across from me.

  “Nothing,” I said, putting my phone away. For some reason I didn’t feel like sharing what Calvin had sent me, even with Phoebe.

  * * *

  I stayed up way past my bedtime finishing my English paper (it turned out the substitute we got was even tougher than Mrs. Bahar). Luckily my sister was able to fall asleep when I still had the light on.