Cinnamon Bun Besties

by Stacia Deutsch

  I looked at him in shock. That actually was everything that needed to be done. Had he somehow seen my to-do list? I hadn’t had time to look at it in school, so I had it in my bookbag now. It had been locked up all day. Totally secure. There was no way he could’ve seen it.

  Truth was, I didn’t really need the binder anyway. I had it all memorized.

  After hearing JJ’s list, I didn’t tell him that, last year, we’d realized that it saved time if you let people choose their candy when they bought the cards, and just taped it on then. I kept my mouth closed. I wasn’t going to help!

  JJ touched my arm and added, “And if I’m going to sell more cards this year, I’ll need to start selling them early.”

  I squinted down at his hand and he quickly removed it. Reminding myself that the goal was still to scare him away, I said, “You’re missing a lot of steps.” It wasn’t true.

  “Sure,” he said sarcastically. And with a sinister smile, he added, “I was just making sure I knew everything and wasn’t missing anything that had to be done. So …” he turned to leave. “Thanks for confirming it, Suki.”

  He’d used me! Just like he had for the science project! I’d somehow told him everything he needed to get done without even saying anything. Blast him!

  “Good luck with your science project,” JJ said, taking a few large steps down the path.

  “What?” I’d forgotten that was what I told him I was doing. “Oh, right.” I started waving my hands again. “Almost done here.”

  He nodded to himself and I swore it looked like he was holding back laughter.

  “If you get too cold, we just moved into these apartments.” He pointed. “Third building to the left.” With that, JJ walked away.

  As soon as he was out of sight, I dropped my arms stiffly to my side.

  This was embarrassing! And disappointing.

  JJ was apparently already working on the Cupid Cards project, which I hadn’t started.

  Cinnamon Bun had disappeared.

  Could the day get any worse?

  Chapter Five

  A HAPPY PLACE

  Wednesday, February 2, right after the disaster at the park

  I muttered to myself the whole way home.

  “It didn’t make sense that he knew everything on my to-do list for the Cupid Cards!” I didn’t want to accept that he was just smart and could’ve figured it out on his own.

  This was serious business, and JJ was so casual about it. He made me mad.

  I was so busy trying to figure out if JJ had come up with the to-do list on his own, or if someone from last year had clued him in, that I forgot to turn at my street! Next thing I knew, I’d gone three blocks out of my way. When I looked up, I was standing in front of the animal shelter.

  I’d only ever seen the outside of the long building. Of course, I often imagined what it was like inside, from commercials on TV of pathetic animals desperate to be adopted. My parents were so stubborn. If I faced reality, I’d admit that I’d never get to adopt a dog. I started to turn away, then stopped.

  Wait. What if the reason I couldn’t find Cinnamon Bun was that the dogcatcher had already gotten her? Funny, now that I was thinking about it, I’d never seen a dogcatcher except on TV. Was it even a real job? Anyway, if they did get Cinnamon Bun, where was she now? What was she doing?

  There was only one way to find out the answers to all my questions. I pushed open the glass door to the shelter and went inside.

  I had to go through two gates to get to the front office. I understood that the system was so if a dog got loose and one gate was open, it still couldn’t run away.

  Once inside, there was a lobby area, sort of like in an office building, but behind the long, tall counter, leashes, carriers, bowls, and pet treats were for sale. There was everything someone might need to get their new pet home.

  “Hi,” I said to the woman at the counter. She had short, smooth brown hair and a name tag that said Louisa. I guessed she was about the same age as my parents, but not nearly as fit as my mom and not pale like my dad. This woman obviously went outside sometimes.

  “How can I help you?” she asked, peering over wire-rimmed glasses at me. “Are you here for the puppy training class?” Louisa pointed to a long hallway to my left. “The classroom is that way.”

  I stepped back so she could see that I didn’t have a dog with me.

  “Oh,” Louisa said, “I thought maybe you were with the other girl who just came in. She was about your age.”

  “That was probably Olivia,” I said, remembering she’d said something about training for Luna. Her class must have started this afternoon. “I’m Suki.”

  “Nice to meet you.” She was staring suspiciously at me now. “Are you interested in pet adoption?” she asked. “We have cats and dogs and the cutest bunny that came in today.”

  “Oh!” A bunny sounded awesome. Maybe if my parents rejected the dog idea again, I’d try for that bunny instead.

  I told myself to focus. “No. No pets,” I said, adding softly, “Not today.” Then louder, “There’s a stray dog out in the neighborhood. I was wondering if maybe the dogcatcher found her.”

  “We don’t have anyone with that job title,” Louisa explained. She pushed some papers to the side, tucking them behind her computer screen, and gave me her full attention. “We call them animal control officers now. But they don’t usually drive around looking for strays. Most stray dogs are brought here by people who find them, because it’s safer to put them here than leave them on the street. We have a volunteer vet check them out. Plus, there’s the hope the animals will get adopted.”

  I liked that. It sounded positive. But, then again, I didn’t want Cinnamon Bun to get adopted by anyone but me.

  I asked, “Did you get a small gold-colored dog in this afternoon?” I explained that I’d seen Cinnamon Bun in the park, but she had run away.

  Louisa typed something into a computer on the desk and then shook her head. “It doesn’t look like it.” She pointed to the area behind her. “But if you want to go peek at the dogs, maybe you’ll find her.”

  “Really? Can I?” I hadn’t been expecting to be able to go back to the area where the dogs were kept. Part of me was nervous that it was going to be so sad to see all those dogs in cages. But another part of me was super excited to see if Cinnamon Bun was there!

  “If you want to adopt, your whole family has to come, but if you’re just looking to see if a specific stray is here, I can help. Come on. Let’s look,” Louisa said. She shouted into another room, and a boy I knew from school, Ben Ryan, popped his head out. Ben was a year older than me. I didn’t know he volunteered at the shelter.

  “Yeah, Mom?” he said. Ben was twirling a pencil in one hand and holding a calculator in the other.

  “Watch the desk, please,” she said. “I’m taking Suki to see the dogs.”

  “Adopting?” Ben asked me.

  “Nah.” I really wished I was there to adopt. “I saw a stray in the park and was checking if she’s here.”

  He gave me a thumbs-up. “Gotcha. I hate it when dogs are out on the street at night.” He raised his bushy eyebrows at me. “There are coyotes that prowl the neighborhood in the dark, looking for a tasty dinner. Little dogs are like popcorn to coyotes.”

  “Benny!” His mother pointed a finger at him. “Don’t scare her.”

  “It’s true,” Ben argued. He looked even harder at me. “Trust me, I hang out here nearly every afternoon. There are horror stories to tell …”

  I grimaced. “Yuck.” I wasn’t sure whether to believe him, but a chill ran down my spine, thinking about Cinnamon Bun out alone.

  “Stop it!” Louisa—Mrs. Ryan, as I was now thinking of her—told Ben. “There’s no reason to put bad thoughts in Suki’s head. If the dog she found isn’t here, maybe it’ll come in tonight or tomorrow.”

  “Fingers crossed,” Ben said with a sinister chuckle. “The cute ones make the most delicious snacks.”

  “I
gnore him,” Mrs. Ryan told me. “He’s just teasing.”

  “Maybe I’m teasing,” Ben called after us as we walked toward the back door to the place the dogs were kept. “Or maybe I’m not.” I glanced back at him and he snapped his jaw like a coyote.

  “I think Ben is good for business,” I told her as she reached up to open the door. “I’d rather adopt all the dogs in the shelter than let them get eaten by wolves.”

  “I suppose he has his strengths.” She chuckled lightly and smiled. “Well, let’s see if your stray is here.”

  We passed through a thick door to the back area. Excitement rolled through me. The room was partitioned into two large areas; one was marked with a big sign that said CATS and another marked DOGS. The whole room smelled clean, like bleach and fresh flowery shampoo. When I took a deeper breath, I sensed there was a pet smell, too, but it wasn’t stinky or gross. I liked it.

  While Mrs. Ryan stopped and filled out a form that was lying on a long counter where food bowls were stacked, I closed my eyes and listened to the dogs barking. There were deep growls and high yelps. Short bursts and long stretched-out howls. Toward the back of the big room, I could also hear cats meowing. I squeezed my eyes tighter as I took it all in.

  Marley loved her songs, but this was true music to me.

  When I opened my eyes again, I let the loud yelping sounds fade to the back of my mind and focused on seeing the animals.

  The shelter wasn’t anything like the sad places on TV.

  It was wonderful.

  We walked toward the dogs. They were paired up in cages, but the cages were big and roomy and all had little doorways to the outside, where there was additional caged space for animals to hang out and get fresh air.

  I walked up to a cage where the saddest dog with big brown eyes looked out from between the bars. He was a large mutt with a massive amount of black fur. I bet he weighed almost as much as me. He sighed a long sorry sound, and didn’t stand up.

  “That’s Bowzer,” Mrs. Ryan told me. “He’s a Briard mix and has been here almost a whole year.” She pointed at a sign on the wall that said OUR LONGEST RESIDENT and had a photo of Bowzer taped below it.

  That explained his depressed, drooping face.

  “His family was moving to England and couldn’t take him along, so they left him here,” Mrs. Ryan said. She grabbed a meaty chew treat from a dish high on the cage door and held it out to Bowzer through the cage’s metal slits.

  He dragged himself up and lumbered toward us. With a long pink tongue, Bowzer scooped the treat from Mrs. Ryan’s hand, gobbled it down, then slunk back onto the floor. He looked like a brown fuzzy carpet.

  “Why hasn’t he been adopted?” I asked. I could feel my heart rate pick up. This adopting-a-dog thing could be a big problem for me. I wanted Cinnamon Bun to live with me, but I also wanted to take care of all these dogs.

  “I think he was a good dog when his owners lived here, but since they left, he’s had issues,” she said. “Bowzer isn’t nice to the prospective families. Or other dogs. Or cats. That makes it hard to find him a home.”

  “I bet he’s just grumpy since he got left behind,” I said. “Can I give him a treat?”

  “He’s okay with the staff here because he knows us,” she said. “I don’t mind testing him out with a stranger, but please be careful. Let’s see how he does.”

  She handed me a treat and I held it out, placing my fingers and the treat just slightly through the cage bars.

  Bowzer didn’t move slowly like before. He lunged off the floor, snarling, his sharp teeth flashing.

  “Oh!” I gasped. I dropped the treat into the cage and pulled back my fingers faster than I think I’d ever moved before, and stepped way, way back from the cage. Bowzer snarfed the treat off the floor and settled back down as if nothing odd had happened.

  “Sorry about that,” Mrs. Ryan told me, looking at the dog, who once again seemed comatose on the floor. “Are you okay, Suki?”

  “I’m fine,” I assured her. A little scared, but fine. I blinked hard, taking a moment to calm down.

  Mrs. Ryan gave a stern look at Bowzer. “No!” she said firmly. He glared at her with an expression that said, “What? I didn’t do anything.”

  “Other shelters probably wouldn’t have kept him,” Mrs. Ryan told me as we moved away. “He can’t be caged with another dog and, obviously, he’s unpredictable. But we pride ourselves on being a no-kill shelter.”

  I knew what that meant. Some animal shelters didn’t have space for animals that couldn’t be adopted, and it made me feel heartbroken. Now that I’d seen Bowzer in action, I was sure he wasn’t going to a family. He’d eat kids for dinner. But another shelter might not have let him hang around so long that his picture was on the board. I bet that some other shelters didn’t even have a board.

  “Our shelter is committed to keeping the animals that come in here until we find a home for each one.” Mrs. Ryan turned her back on Bowzer’s cage. “Even if that means they stay here forever.”

  “Poor Bowzer,” I said with a frown. Sure, he scared me nearly to death, but I felt bad for the brute.

  “He’s okay,” Mrs. Ryan told me. “Bowzer knows he can stay here as long as he wants.” Taking my arm, she led me toward a cage a few doors down where happy puppies barked as we approached.

  “We found this litter under a bridge by the highway yesterday.” She pointed at their little yellow bobbing heads.

  I quickly counted six babies.

  “They were abandoned.” Seeing my face, she assured me, “Don’t worry. Puppies get adopted fast.”

  I nodded. “Of course they do.” If I were picking a dog today, I’d want one of these puppies, too. They were bouncy and playful and mega-cute.

  “Not every shelter is as compassionate as ours,” Mrs. Ryan told me as we reached the end of the long row of cages. “Did you see the dog you were looking for?”

  “No,” I said, frowning. “She’s not here.” I added a hopeful “Yet,” because I knew this shelter was a special place.

  I’d have to check every day until she was brought in. Then I’d ask my parents … again. Maybe, if they came here, they’d see how much these dogs need homes. Our house would be a great home!

  That gave me an amazing idea.

  “Mrs. Ryan, do you take volunteers?” I asked. This way, I would already be here when Cinnamon Bun arrived.

  I held my breath while she answered.

  “Yes,” she told me. “Volunteers have to be twelve years old and like working with animals.”

  “I know just the person.” I let out a long breath and smiled, pointing at myself. “When can I start?”

  I made it home in record time.

  There were a lot of things I needed to do, but I couldn’t think about anything other than working at the shelter. Mrs. Ryan said I could start immediately. Tomorrow!

  I’d begin with the easy stuff like walking dogs and cleaning up poop. Poop duty sounded great. I’d do anything to be there.

  I burst into my house.

  “Mom! Dad!”

  “Can’t you come in slowly? Mindfully?” my mother asked. “You’re going to break the door.”

  I glanced back at the front door. It was solid wood.

  Mindful. That was a mom-word, meaning I needed to think more about … well, everything. Less slamming, more thinking about the door. Sheesh. The door didn’t have feelings!

  “Can I volunteer at the animal shelter after school?” I blurted, the words rushing out of my mouth like a train through a tunnel.

  “Sure,” Mom said without hesitation. “Is that where you’ve been all afternoon?”

  I realized that hours had passed since school let out. Lucky for me, Mom wasn’t a helicopter-worrier, plus I could see that she was proud I’d come home with such a “productive” idea. She added, “But only if you keep your grades up.”

  “I will!” I said. “I promise!”

  “And take care of commitments you’ve already mad
e to the student council.”

  “On it,” I agreed eagerly. I already had my list of what I needed to do for the Cupid Cards.

  “And don’t bring home any of the strays,” she said. “No sneaking a puppy home in your coat.”

  I hadn’t actually thought of that, but it was a pretty good idea. When I found Cinnamon Bun, I could keep her in my closet. Mom and Dad would never know.

  “Suki!” Mom said, as if reading my thoughts. First JJ, now her. I was going to have to stop thinking so loudly.

  “Okay, okay,” I promised. “There was no way that was going to work anyway. My closet’s really small and overstuffed already.”

  “Fine, and one more thing,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

  I waited for it.

  “You must be home in the evenings for dinner,” she told me. “It’s family time.”

  Yeah, yeah. Already counted on that rule. It was the reason Mom didn’t worry where I was after school.

  “Deal!” I shouted, then gave mom a fast, tight hug. “Thanks!” I shouted, kicking off my shoes and skipping upstairs to video chat with Marley.

  For the next few hours, talking about the shelter was all I could do. Even Marley grew bored listening. I talked forever over dinner to Dad until he asked me if anything else happened at school. I even called Grandma in Florida. Then I rushed through all the homework I’d been ignoring all evening. Talking about the shelter was way more exciting!

  Then, because I was so jazzed up and couldn’t sleep, I used leftover red paper from last year and cut out little red hearts for Cupid Cards until my fingers hurt. I bet JJ hadn’t started doing that!

  That night, when I fell asleep, I was happier than ever!

  Chapter Six

  DESPERATE MEASURES

  Thursday, February 3

  “Rotem and I are working on a way to find and trap Cinnamon Bun,” Marley told me as we slid our hot-lunch trays on the long tables that filled the school’s multipurpose room.

  Marley and Rotem Arons were good friends. He wrote songs and played bass in Marley’s band. The thing about Rotem was that he was also the smartest kid at school. He was younger than us but had also skipped a year, so he was already in eighth-grade classes. It was hard to believe he’d start high school next year, leaving me and Marley behind in middle school.