“I wanted to do it,” I said, putting Sandy down. She seemed confused that JJ’s voice was in the room but he wasn’t here at the same time. Her cute little head was spinning around, searching for him. Seeing her look for him made me annoyed. JJ didn’t deserve her.
I pointed at the screen, but Sandy didn’t understand.
“What’s the problem?” I asked JJ. “I’m grounded, but it all worked out.” I knew he wouldn’t be mad anymore when he saw everything I’d taught Sandy. She’d learned to roll over this morning. I was saving it for a surprise when he got back.
JJ grunted something. Not sure what, but it sounded rude. I wondered if he was grounded, too.
This whole thing reminded me that JJ and I weren’t really ever friends. He’d still never apologized or explained about the incident in fourth grade, and here he was, being all ridiculous again. I was the one who he ditched back then, and I was the one in trouble now, thanks to him. If anyone was supposed to be mad, it should be me.
I was about to get into it with him, when Olivia gently pushed me out of the camera range.
“JJ, you want to get to work, so let’s do it,” she said. “How are we going to deliver fifteen hundred candy cards in one day?”
Suddenly, there was a ding on everyone’s phones at the same time.
“I just texted you,” he said. Then, without another word to me or anyone else, JJ logged off the call.
“That was weird,” I said. “What’s up with him?”
“I don’t have a clue.” Olivia shrugged and went to grab her phone. “This is bad,” she reported. “Super-duper bad.”
Everyone in my room started complaining as they stared at their screens.
The message JJ had sent us all was short and clear.
I quit.
Chapter Seventeen
LESSONS LEARNED
Sunday, February 13—One day to go!
Sunday afternoon, JJ’s mom came to get Sandy. I peeked out the window at her car while she talked softly with my parents in the kitchen. If JJ was behind those shaded car windows, I couldn’t see him.
There was no way to show him everything I’d taught Sandy. And that was a huge disappointment because she needed practice. I’d set the base for her training, but she needed to be worked with every day to make sure she could follow commands.
I decided to text him about it.
Then I changed my mind.
He’d totally built up this great idea for selling more Candy Cards and getting them all delivered, but then he didn’t come through. He quit when we needed him. Why should I help him or his dog?
Then I changed my mind again. She was a great dog.
It was just that JJ was a bad dude.
Oh, I was confused. In the end, the dog won my heart, so I texted.
Commands Sandy knows:
Sit, stay, come, leave it, fetch, and shake.
Practice with her.
I remembered something he’d really like and added:
She likes soccer.
That was from the first day I’d met Sandy in the park.
In the end, I’d sent four texts, but didn’t the dog deserve it? If I ever dog-sat for her again, I’d teach her that Cinnamon Bun was her name. Ha! That would show JJ. Then again, there was no chance I’d ever dog-sit her—or probably even see her—again.
My heart sank at that thought. I decided to go early to the shelter. There was another dog that I wanted to see—Bowzer.
I waited until Sandy was gone, threw on my shirt, and headed out.
“Suki, wait up,” Olivia called out in a way that made me wonder if she’d been standing in her driveway watching for me. She’d probably just gotten home from dog training. I’d had to miss the training class that morning because my parents wanted me home when the mayor came.
“What’s up?” I asked her.
“I’m really sorry,” she said. Luna was sitting at her feet in a “Stay” position. The training at the shelter really helped. I was happy to see Luna doing so well. Which, of course, made me think about Sandy again.
I sighed.
“What are you sorry for?” I asked her. I mean I sort of knew, but still …
“JJ,” Olivia said. She pushed a long strand of hair behind her ear.
“I don’t blame you that he quit at the last minute,” I said.
“I know,” she said. “But I should have warned you. After what happened with the dog, his mom grounded him. She made him quit.”
Oh. That was too bad.
“I get it,” I said. “I am grounded, too. But my parents made me honor my commitments.” I added, “And I’m glad they did.”
“JJ’s mom isn’t like that.” Olivia looked over her shoulder. Even though we were at my house, she looked back at her own as if someone was listening. Then, seeming confident that we were alone, Olivia whispered, “Look, I know how fast you get mad sometimes, so I shouldn’t tell you this, but it really is science fair all over again.”
I seriously had no idea what Olivia was talking about. “And you should know, we were never really dating … his plan backfired.”
Huh? I started to ask what she meant, when Olivia said, “I gotta go.”
“Wait, Olivia—”
“Bye, Suki,” she said loudly. “See you at the meeting place an hour before school tomorrow.” And with that, she commanded, “Luna, heel,” and Luna walked right next to her left leg, into the house.
The conversation was weird, and any joy I felt from watching Luna behave so well was tempered by what she’d said. What did she mean that it was science fair all over again … and did she just say I got mad fast? What? That wasn’t my own impression of me.
I stopped to think about her words.
Did I get mad fast?
I guessed maybe I did.
It was possible that I also didn’t always stop to hear the other side of an argument … and I held on to grudges forever.
Maybe I should just hang out with dogs instead of people.
I looked forward to getting to the shelter. Animal feelings were much more straightforward than human feelings.
“Hi,” I said to Mrs. Ryan as I walked past her on the way to the back room. “Since it’s quiet, can I take Bowzer into the training room?” There was an idea I had that I wanted to try.
She looked at me and pressed her lips together. “You’ve made progress with him,” she said, “but I’m not sure he’ll ever be ready for much more.” Mrs. Ryan pushed up her glasses. “Look, Suki, I know how hard you’re trying with him, but it’s still going to be hard to find someone to adopt him.”
“You don’t know what will happen,” I countered. I was determined to make him lovable.
“I’ve been working here a long time,” she replied. I could see the sadness behind her eyes. “But it’s likely we’ll have to close soon. We’re adopting out as many pets as we can, but not replacing them,” she told me. “New strays are going to other shelters in other cities.” Mrs. Ryan gave a sorry breath and pushed her glasses up again, even though they hadn’t slid down. “Seeing the band play was great. Your fund-raising idea is fantastic, but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I’ve made peace with closing, Suki.”
I wanted to argue. But she was right. Whatever we ended up donating from the Candy Cards would only be a few hundred dollars—it was just a Band-Aid for a gigantic wound. We might be able to stop the blood gushing for a little while, but there’d be more problems after that.
“Maybe you kids should put the money you earn back into a fancy school dance,” Mrs. Ryan told me.
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “The final day of the Cupid Cards fund-raiser is tomorrow, and people want to help the shelter. We’ve already raised a lot of money and there will be more coming in.” I tried to feel positive when I added, “Maybe something extra-awesome will happen.” In the meantime, I was going ahead as if the shelter would always be here and stay open. “I’d still really like to work with Bowzer in the big room today,”
I said.
Mrs. Ryan gave in. “All right,” she said. “But if you feel like he’s not handling things well, you must leave the room and lock him inside.”
“Of course!” I agreed.
Bowzer was a stubborn dog. He let me pet him, and he let me put on a collar and leash, but when I said, “Come,” he lay down.
But I was stubborn, too. I put my hands bravely around his belly and dragged/lifted him back up to his feet. All those treats I was giving him were making him heavy. And he was already huge to start with. At least he was eating …
“Come,” I said again when Bowzer started to slip down to the floor. I tugged the leash and convinced him to stay standing.
“Come,” I said again, and this time, he reluctantly waddled along with me toward the training room.
Most dogs walk faster than their owners and the owners get dragged along, but not Bowzer. He moved so slowly, we could have been going backward. Progress was slow, but I was patient. I figured as long as he was calm, I’d let him set the pace.
When we got to the room, I finally gave him his first treat.
I hadn’t set anything out in the room. No toys or balls or obstacle course things to go over or under. It was just me, Bowzer, and a big empty space. I wasn’t in any hurry.
“Let’s start with ‘Sit,’” I told the monster. He looked at me. Snorted. Yawned. And flopped to the ground.
I sighed.
“Come on,” I went for honesty. “If you don’t get your lazy bones up, no one will want you. I’m working hard to make sure this place doesn’t close. But even if it doesn’t, it’s up to you to get adopted. So get up off the floor and help me out!”
I don’t know if he understood or not, but Bowzer slowly rose. His tail wagged faster than I’d ever seen it and when I said, “Sit,” again … that lump of a dog sat!
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I cheered and moved to the next command. “Stay!”
Finally! Bowzer’s prior training was coming back.
As I played with Bowzer, I had to admit how much I’d actually learned from the Dog-Talker show. Yes, his dogs were trained already, but so was Bowzer. When I thought back on each episode, I could see how to use that fact. Once I got Bowzer to “remember” his first commands, others came pretty easy.
I think all that dog needed was some love. And I had plenty to give.
Time passed quickly. I needed to leave soon, so I was going through all the commands with Bowzer one more time.
“Sit,” I said. That lump of a dog put his tush on the ground and stared up at me.
“Down,” I told Bowzer, and pointed to the ground. There was a moment when I thought he couldn’t handle it. He gave me this eye roll, like I do when my parents ask me to clear the dinner table, but then, he did the task. He lay down in his usual “I’m a dog-carpet” pose.
I wondered … could he roll over?
Tucking a meaty treat into my palm, I put my hand close enough so Bowzer could smell it, then I moved my whole hand in a wide circle. The idea was, he would smell the treat, roll over, and get the treat.
Bowzer smelled my hand and bared his teeth. “Don’t do that,” I told him, and he seemed to relax.
“Roll over,” I said, again, waving my palm around in a circle.
It seemed like he was laughing at me. He snorted and put his head on the floor by my knee.
“Come on,” I begged. “I know you can do it. How are you going to get adopted if you refuse to even try things? I bet you rolled over a thousand times for your old family. Show me so I can tell your new family how awesome you are!”
Bowzer yawned.
Oh well. I guess he didn’t want to roll over today. “Come,” “Sit,” and “Down” were a good start. I wouldn’t push it.
“Done for today,” I told Bowzer. “You can go nap in your cage.” I gave him the treat in my hand and he gobbled it up.
I stepped back. “Come,” I commanded. I smacked a hand on the side of my leg. “Come,” I repeated, pulling on his leash.
Hmmm … this was a problem. What was I going to do if he refused to go back to his cage? What would I tell Mrs. Ryan if I had to get her to help me? It would be a total failure.
“Give me a break here, Bowzer,” I muttered as my frustration grew.
Was he playing with me? I had a feeling the dog knew exactly what was going on. With a small “Woof,” he looked right at me, rolled that heavy body over, and finally got up.
“Oh, Bowzer,” I cooed. “You know more than you are telling me.” I was so happy, I bent down and gave him a big hug around the neck.
He licked the side of my face.
Through the window into the training room, I saw Ben standing outside, giving me a thumbs-up.
It was such a good morning that I couldn’t let the rest of the day drag me down. I had to talk to Marley.
When I knocked on her door, her mom said, “Hi, Suki. Let me go check on Marley—wait here.” Clearly, she knew what had happened between us—I don’t think she’d ever checked in with Marley before letting me inside.
“Come on, she’s in the garage,” Marley’s mom said a minute later. She pointed the way, as if it was my first visit there.
Marley was sitting on a stool, messing around on Rotem’s bass. She didn’t look up when I came in.
I jumped right into it. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t say anything, just kept playing.
“Seriously, Marley, I am so sorry.”
“I know you are,” she said after a long pause. “And you know I can never stay mad at you.”
I sighed. “It’s me that holds all the grudges,” I said.
“Yep,” she agreed, putting aside the guitar and coming over to me. “But it’s not like that’s new information.” She put her arm around me. “You’re still my bestie.”
I smiled. “Forever,” I said.
Marley walked back to her stool and sat. I took another chair to face her.
“I am thinking that I need to slow things down.” Ah man, I sounded like my mom! As long as I was going that route, I should dive in. “Maybe be a little more mindful before I get mad about stuff.”
“I have literally no idea what that means,” Marley said. “How about you just ask to hear the other side first before jumping to conclusions?”
“Okay.” I gave a small laugh. We sat in silence for a long moment, then I said, “So, what happened with the science fair?”
“You should ask JJ,” Marley told me.
I gave her a look, which meant I wasn’t going to and she should just tell me.
“Oh, fine.” She gave in. “JJ’s dad was moving out. It was the last weekend before he left town. Permanently.” As Marley said that, I sort of remembered. “His dad saw the pieces of the car and wanted to help JJ build it. JJ didn’t have the heart to tell him you two were supposed to do it together.”
“It was his last chance to do something with his dad?”
“Yeah, remember, he moved and after that JJ only saw him at holidays.”
I did remember that. Right after his dad left, his mom threw herself into politics. JJ never talked about where his dad went and, in time, I think he stopped going to visit—I’m not even sure where his dad lived.
“Well, his mom was so upset that they’d made the car without you, since it was supposed to be a team project, she made JJ call the school and tell them what happened.”
“My dad had to call the teacher too …”
“I’m pretty sure someone would have called you to explain if you’d waited longer,” Marley said. “That’s what my mom said.”
I guess I did move too quickly sometimes. I was the one who made my dad call right away to tell the teacher I’d be working alone. Oh good grief.
“But how did JJ win the blue ribbon if his dad helped?” I asked, feeling the anger start to rise in me again. But then I stopped myself—I was new Suki, not mad Suki.
“Parents were allowed to help in fourth grade. Didn’t your
dad help with the volcano?”
“Uh, no,” I said.
“Hmmm … That explains the fire.” She bit her bottom lip and tapped her toe to a beat in her head. “I didn’t even know what really happened with JJ until a few days ago when my mom told me.”
“Why’d she tell you?” I asked.
“She saw us trying to get Luna and asked me why we never played with Olivia anymore.”
“Play?” I nearly laughed.
“Whatever. I guess I had never told her, or she didn’t realize what happened, but when I explained, she filled me in on the other side,” Marley said. “Olivia stuck with JJ ’cause she knew how important making that car was to him.”
“But then you never told me what happened …” I started to feel that familiar anger rise again. “This could have been so different!”
“Could it?” Marley asked me. “If you wanted to know what happened that day, you’d have asked. It’s been three years. The ball was on your side of the field, Suki. You never kicked it.” She added, “Of course, you’re not alone. I didn’t ask anyone, either …”
It was all true. We both felt awful about it.
All those years, I’d had this huge competitive streak with JJ, and I didn’t even know why it started. I wish I’d known about his dad and the car.
My stomach hurt thinking about it. But as dumb as it sounded, there was a reason I never let him explain. It was time I admitted it to myself.
Here’s the truth …
I did have a huge crush on JJ in fourth grade. And the more we worked together, the worse it got.
In the end, it was easier for me to get mad and run away than to really listen to him. Augh.
Admitting that was hard. Even harder than getting stitches or training Bowzer! Or even asking Mrs. Choi if JJ and I could work together on the Cupid Cards after all. Whoever said that middle school is the hardest years was so right!
“Hey,” Marley said, interrupting my thoughts. “One more thing—JJ never really ‘dated’ Olivia.”
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