by Annie Bryant
“I don’t know, kiddo. We’ll just watch him and see if he improves, like Dr. Clayton said. The good thing is that he’s not in any danger at this point. Why don’t you see if he wants to play outside when we get home? The doc said exercise would be good for him.”
When they got home, Marty definitely wasn’t in the mood to play. Even pulling the leash out didn’t generate any doggy excitement. Charlotte left him snoozing in the living room and went downstairs to tell Miss Pierce the news. She was sure she would want to know.
She rapped lightly on the door and waited. Moments later, the door opened and Miss Pierce stood in the entrance. Charlotte blinked. Miss Pierce had on makeup—wine-colored lipstick, muted eye shadow, pink blush—even a little foundation. Miss Pierce hardly ever wore makeup. She also had on slim black pants, a white blouse, and a silver star-shaped necklace.
“Wow!” Charlotte blurted out. “You look really snazzy.”
The new-and-improved Miss Pierce’s eyes twinkled at the compliment. “Thank you, my dear. And how is our friend Marty?”
“Uh…he’s fine. At least, that’s what the vet says…but I’m still not sure. He’s so…lethargic.”
“Perfect description, dear. Marty did seem to have lost his spark.” She nodded as she held the door open.
“Little dog not have spark?” a gruff voice said from inside the apartment.
Charlotte peered around the landlady. “Yuri!” she exclaimed. When she had first met the Russian man who owned Yuri’s Fruit Stand, he’d seemed like a grouch. But he turned out to be Charlotte’s first friend in Brookline, offering her a piece of fruit every day as she passed his stand on the way to school. Even his rough tone couldn’t hide Yuri’s concern for Marty’s well-being.
Charlotte remembered how worried Yuri got when Miss Pierce went on a secret mission for NASA and no one knew where she was. The BSG thought something was up then, and now Charlotte actually had proof! The way Yuri looked at Miss Pierce could melt an iceberg.
Miss Pierce’s face turned several shades of pink as she followed Charlotte’s gaze. “Charlotte. Would you…would you like to come in?”
Yuri rose from the sofa and stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets. “What is news? How is little dog?”
“Uh…the vet says he’s okay, but he’s really not acting like himself.”
Yuri’s mouth spread into a huge smile. “No worry, Charlotte. That little dude rock it out.”
Charlotte stifled a giggle. Yuri always sounded so funny mixing up modern expressions with his thick accent.
Miss Pierce’s hands fluttered off her pants, plucking invisible lint.
I should give them some space, Charlotte suddenly realized. And tell the BSG that we were right all along about Miss Pierce and Yuri!
“Well…I should go check on Marty again.” Charlotte turned and fled upstairs. Talk about some news! This was something she definitely needed to share with her best friends ASAP. Too bad she also had to break the bad news about Marty. Avery would be really upset. She was completely crazy about dogs, and Marty in particular.
“What do you want for dinner, Char…?” Mr. Ramsey’s voice trailed off as she zoomed past him and headed toward the stairs.
“Oh…anything, Dad,” Charlotte called down from her room as she logged on to the computer.
CHAPTER 6
Courage in the Serengeti
After dinner, her dad asked Charlotte to watch a special on the Serengeti with him. When they’d lived in Africa, her father had written a book called Serengeti Summer…or, How I Survived an Elephant Stampede. If she closed her eyes, Charlotte could still hear the sounds of the thundering animals.
“Dad, someday I’m going back to Africa,” Charlotte suddenly blurted as she watched a mother elephant charge a jeep that had gotten too close to her baby.
Mr. Ramsey smiled and nodded. “I believe that you will, Charlotte. You were always drawn to the wildlife there, and you have the heart of an adventurer.”
Her dad glanced down at Marty, who sat by their feet, his nose resting on his paws. Mr. Ramsey’s smile melted into a look of concern. “But the wildlife around here still seems a little, well, less than wild,” he said as he tried to get Marty to liven up by waving Happy Lucky Thingy in front of his face. Marty just turned his head away.
Charlotte frowned. “Dad, something is definitely wrong with Marty. He’s crazy about Happy Lucky Thingy! Now he doesn’t even care that you’re waving it in front of his nose.”
Happy Lucky Thingy was a toy that used to belong to Avery. The little pink character had traveled with her from Korea to the U.S., when Avery was adopted by her parents. The really weird thing about him was that he had a happy face on one side and a mad face on the other. Marty was obsessed with him.
Mr. Ramsey reached down and scratched the little dude behind the ears. “Don’t worry, Charlotte. We’ll take him back to Dr. Clayton if he doesn’t bounce back soon.”
Charlotte bent down to stroke Marty’s fur. Staring mindlessly at the television screen, Charlotte tried to concentrate on the show again, but it was hopeless. And it wasn’t just because of Marty. A teeny, tiny little worry started growing in Charlotte’s mind. Where was Nick after school, anyway? Was he talking to Chelsea the whole time?
Charlotte chewed her nail as the worry got bigger. Chelsea was acting a lot more friendly and confident these days. Everyone had noticed it.
Aside from the BSG, Nick and Chelsea were probably her best friends in Brookline. So what if…what if…Charlotte didn’t even want to think it, but she couldn’t help it: WHAT IF NICK LIKES CHELSEA?
The idea was so uncomfortable, it made her sit up suddenly on the couch. What if Nick hadn’t asked her to the dance yet because he didn’t want to? And because…because he was going to ask Chelsea to the dance instead? The thought made her feel like someone had just punched her in the stomach and she was about to turn green. Nick was the only boy she really wanted to go to the dance with. She couldn’t imagine going with anyone else…. she’d rather go alone!
“What’s up, Charlotte?” her dad asked in a concerned voice, breaking into her thoughts. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
Charlotte scratched Marty’s ears. “Nothing. Just thinking,” she said.
Mr. Ramsey reached for the bowl of microwave popcorn sitting on the coffee table. “About what? This show is about your favorite place in the whole world, and you’re not even paying attention. What’s going on, kiddo?”
Charlotte shook her head. Talking to her dad about boy stuff felt weird. It was at a time like this that Charlotte really missed her mom the most. Times when she needed advice that only a mom could give. But…looking at her dad’s concerned expression, she decided that just maybe he might understand.
“Oh, Dad. It’s just that…well…there’s this, uhhh…boy.”
Mr. Ramsey put the popcorn bowl down and turned toward her, his eyes serious. Charlotte took a deep breath. “I kind of like him and there’s a big Valentine’s Dance on Friday and I’m just thinking that, well…maybe he doesn’t want to go with me.” Her words came out in a rush.
Her dad smiled reassuringly. “Well, how do you know? Maybe he just hasn’t worked up to asking you yet.”
Charlotte leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Marty jumped down from her lap and scrambled out of the room. “What do you mean?”
Mr. Ramsey gave her a quick hug. She looked up at him.
“Well, it takes a lot of courage to ask a pretty girl like you to a dance…probably more courage than walking up to that lion on the screen there,” he joked.
Charlotte smiled up at him. “Oh Dad, I’m just a regular girl. You should see some of the girls at school. They’re really beautiful.”
Mr. Ramsey turned to face his daughter. “Charlotte, you are a bright, beautiful girl! And I mean on the inside, too.” Charlotte opened her mouth, but her dad put up a hand to stop her. “I know, I know, parents say this stuff all the time, but jus
t listen one more time, okay? Humor an old guy.”
She closed her mouth again and gave her dad a chance to finish. “Someone can be the most beautiful person on the planet,” he went on, “but if they’re unkind or selfish, it doesn’t matter how beautiful they are on the outside. Eventually no one will want to be around her.”
Immediately, images of Anna and Joline popped into her head. The Queens of Mean were two of the prettiest girls at Abigail Adams, but their personalities kind of reduced the dazzle of their looks. Charlotte imagined for a minute the Queens of Mean turned inside out…without their designer clothes and perfect makeup, but polite, friendly, and cheerful. Wow, what a crazy, mixed-up world that would be!
Mr. Ramsey reminisced. “I remember the first time I planned on asking your mother out. I was a nervous wreck. I kept thinking about how I was going to ask her and whether she would say no. Trust me, kiddo. When a guy wants to ask a girl to a dance, it’s not the easiest thing in the world. Especially when the girl is as beautiful as my incredibly lovely daughter.”
Charlotte laughed and took a handful of popcorn. “I think you’re a little blinded by love, Dad.”
Mr. Ramsey crunched up his forehead. “Could be! But don’t worry. I have a funny feeling that Nick Montoya just needs little more time to work up his nerve.”
Charlotte gagged on the popcorn. Her dad gave her a few whacks on the back. When she finally got the popcorn down, she gazed at him with alarmed eyes. “Dad, how did you know—I mean, what makes you think I’m talking about Nick?”
Mr. Ramsey grinned and threw up his hands innocently. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! I only said Nick, you know, as an example. Could be anyone. What do I know? I’m just your clueless dad.”
Charlotte’s face burned as she stared at the TV. Was her crush that obvious?
Finally her dad reached over and squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you about it. It’s just that I’m so sure everything will turn out okay. So let’s get back the Serengeti, huh? Looks like that water buffalo is about to run down a zebra with a mean look in his eye.”
When she went up to the Tower later that evening, Charlotte’s worries returned in full force. Sure, her dad thought she was beautiful and everything, but that was the thing: He was her dad. What if Nick didn’t think she was pretty? What if he thought of her as just a friend…a friend he had things in common with? What if he thought Chelsea was cool? Nick always asked to see Chelsea’s latest photos, and now they were working on that Sentinel project together….
Maybe if I write to Sophie, I can stop obsessing over this, she thought, shaking her head as if that would make all the unpleasant thoughts fly out her ears. Sophie lived in Paris, one of the many places Charlotte and her dad had lived, and was one of her best friends. Charlotte still really missed her French friend, especially right now.
To: Sophie
From: Charlotte
Subject: Nick & Marty
Dear Sophie,
I just have to tell all my thoughts to someone or I’m never going to get to sleep tonight. Ma chere, do you like my cool new stationery? Those little dogs doing backflips look just like Marty! I’m sending a photo so you can compare. But the real Marty hasn’t done a backflip all day. I just don’t know what’s wrong with him. He is not himself. The vet said he’s not sick, but I’m really worried. The little dude just lies around like a sad rag doll. And that’s not the only thing going wrong. I think Nick has been avoiding me lately. There’s a Valentine’s Day Dance this Friday, and I don’t know if he’s going to ask me. He’s been hanging around my friend Chelsea a lot. I don’t want to be jealous, but I can’t help it. I mean, I thought Nick kind of liked me. But maybe I’m wrong. I wish I was back in Paris with you right now! A box of our favorite chocolates would make me forget all about this crazy dance, I just know it. Until then…
Au revoir!
Charlotte
Ice Cream and Secrets
Writing to Sophie about chocolate inspired Charlotte to wander down to the kitchen in search of some double chocolate chip ice cream. She never quite understood the secret of ice cream. The creamy treat seemed to have the power to make everyone feel better, and chocolate chips put the dessert over the edge of perfection. Whoever thought of adding chocolate chips to ice cream should get the Nobel Peace Prize, she thought happily as she pulled open the freezer.
“What a day!” she said out loud. There was no ice cream. Not even a Popsicle!
Charlotte let out a lion-sized sigh of disappointment and walked over to the note pad by the phone to add “ICE CREAM!” (in capital letters) to her dad’s shopping list, but a red blinking light caught her attention. A message! Could it be Nick? That would definitely make up for no double chocolate chip ice cream!
Charlotte lifted up the phone and pressed play.
“Hi, Richard! Sorry I missed you.” Normally Charlotte would hang up the phone at Richard—her dad got calls from other professors all the time—but this woman’s voice sounded familiar. “Friday at eight is perfect. Le Bistro Français is my favorite restaurant! How did you know? I’ll see you there!” The woman ended her message with a lighthearted laugh.
Charlotte’s hands flew up to her mouth to stifle a surprised yelp. Only one person she knew laughed that way: Bif Madden, Avery’s mom! But why was her dad meeting Avery’s mom at Le Bistro Français? The restaurant was a trendy, cozy café with dim lighting and romantic little booths.
Oh, my gosh! My dad is going on a date with Avery’s mom! Charlotte stiffened. She didn’t know if she wanted her dad to have a date with Avery’s mom. It was beyond weird. Mrs. Madden going out with my dad? And something told her that Avery wouldn’t be too thrilled with the idea either.
Suddenly, thoughts of her dad and Avery’s mom sharing a single strand of pasta like Lady and the Tramp floated through her brain. To keep that way-too-weird image from her mind, Charlotte headed back up to the Tower to start working on an outline for her Sentinel article. But all she could do was stare at the computer screen. “Serious case of writer’s block,” she said out loud to the empty Tower room. How am I going to write an article about the Valentine’s Day Dance when my dad can find a date that night, but Nick Montoya doesn’t even like me anymore?
Marty was cowering under Charlotte’s desk, looking just as miserable as she felt. Lifting him into her lap, Charlotte scratched behind his ears.
“It’s okay, Marty. We’ll get through this. Somehow.”
Charlotte’s Journal
My Top Ten Things to Do Alone on
Valentine’s Day:
Eat double-chocolate-chip ice cream. (Make sure there’s some on hand ahead of time.)
Take Marty to the park and play a game of fetch. (This only works if the little dude isn’t moping around looking just as depressed as me!)
Write in my journal. (Only one paragraph of self-pity allowed.)
Watch a National Geographic Special on TV. (Avoid talking to Dad about his date.)
Go to the Book Nook and spend my allowance on a brand-new novel (fantasy or science fiction?).
Read all day.
IM with the BSG. They’ll cheer me up.
Start a new story. (Set in Paris? Characters? A woman in a purple raincoat?)
E-mail Sophie.
Go to the Tower and watch the stars. (Ask Miss Pierce to show me the nebula she’s researching.)
Charlotte closed her journal. She was about to shut down the computer and go to bed, when a blinking light in her e-mail program alerted her: one new message.
To: Charlotte
From: Sophie
Subject: re: Nick and Marty
Bonjour, Charlotte,
Marty is très adorable! Thank you for to send this new photo of him. I am hoping you and the BSG can discover why he is so sad. And you, my friend! Do not be sad or worry. If Nick does not like you, then he is crazy! But you are très magnifique! I am sure he will ask you to the dance. If he does not, you can find a more handsome
boy. I will help you. What are you wearing? Purple is your best color, but something long and dark to contrast your hair? Do you have snow? If snow, light purple, I think!
Au revoir, mon amie,
Sophie
CHAPTER 7
MFT the Great!
Maeve opened the door to AAJH feeling so much better than she had the night before. I mean, she thought confidently, what’s a little face plant in the mud when a girl is wearing a super outfit? Maeve felt so fabuloso that she had to restrain herself from dancing down the hallway.
The night before she and her mother had picked out her new boot-cut jeans, a white-and-pink-striped V-neck sweater, and soft pink loafers to match (boots were sooo yesterday, anyway) for Maeve to wear to school.
Her mother, after spending a half hour wiping sticky mud off Maeve’s face with her special lavender-rose face lotion, explained that when you were having a terrible, awful day, looking good could make you feel so much better.
Maeve had gone to sleep glowing with the happy memory of her winning goal (minus the face plant, of course). Her sleepy vision included a cheer and a sweet kiss on the cheek from Dillon for an extra dollop of dreaminess.
Remembering how her mother had cheered her on—“You are MKT! You kicked in the winning goal. So, dress for the success you are and no one will remember your little mud mishap”—Maeve felt ready to tackle whatever came her way. In fact, she was all set to continue her campaign to get Dillon to ask her to the Valentine’s Day Dance.
Suddenly, she heard one of her least-favorite voices at AAJH.
“Hey, it’s MFT!” Anna (QOM#1) pointed from her locker across the hall. Joline (QOM #2), stood giggling beside her, hiding her mouth with her hand.
Maeve flushed, but no way was Anna going to ruin her moment!
“Excuse me?” she retorted as she shifted one hip. “It’s MKT for those in the know, but I’ll let it pass this once, Anna. You’re probably just upset about your loss yesterday.”
