by Annie Bryant
“I brought Happy Lucky Thingy from the Tower,” said Avery, fishing the toy out of her pocket and tossing it toward a picnic bench.
Charlotte gasped. “Avery! You can’t just throw Happy Lucky Thingy around! He’s a thingy, not a ball!”
Avery laughed and crouched down beside Marty. “Go get it, Marty. Go get it, boy!”
But Marty only stood next to them, his head bent low, his ears drooping, and his tail sagging. He whined a bit, a mournful sound as pitiful as a baby crying.
“Hey, isn’t that Ms. Pink and La Fanny?” Avery picked up Happy Lucky Thingy and pointed down the path past the bench.
Marty perked up suddenly, and gave a little yip.
“Yeah, and that’s her new boyfriend, Zak, with the rottweiler.” Charlotte waved, but the couple didn’t seem to see. “Isabel and I saw them just the other day.”
“Come on, little dude!” Avery tugged Marty’s leash. “Let’s go say hi to your girlfriend!”
Marty sat down suddenly, and his mournful whining deepened into a growl. Charlotte watched Ms. Pink’s brightly colored hair disappear behind a pine tree.
“What is wrong with you, Marty man?” Avery tugged the leash, and the dog flopped down on his stomach, paws digging in the dirt as Avery dragged him forward. She was strong, but Marty was obviously determined not to go anywhere.
“Bizarre,” Charlotte said. “He won’t go. They’re gone now, anyway.”
“I think Marty might be depressed,” Avery said sadly as they trudged out of the park, the little pup trotting beside them on his leash.
“Is that even possible?” Charlotte asked.
“Who knows?” Avery knelt down to give Marty a hug before taking off down her street. “I’m going straight home to do some research!”
Avery’s Blog
After some serious scientific research (ten minutes online, ha-ha), I have determined that the strange phenomenon of dog depression really does exist! Here are some signs to look out for. Your dog may be depressed if he or she:
1. Doesn’t want to play
2. Avoids eye contact
3. Refuses to move
4. Eats less
5. Runs away from you
6. Doesn’t like being held
7. Acts more aggressive than usual
It looks like our pal Marty only had the first three symptoms. Here are some possible cures for a depressed doggy:
1. Lots of extra love and attention
2. Find other dogs to play with. Your pet needs friends too!
3. Visit a veterinarian
Why do dogs get depressed? For basically the same reasons people do:
1. Someone they care about died or went away.
2. A huge change like moving from one place to another
3. A new baby, pet, or person they don’t know moves in.
But none of those applies to Marty! So what’s wrong?
CHAPTER 10
Breakfast at the Bakery
Charlotte couldn’t help smiling as she surveyed herself in the mirror. Her favorite purple sweater brought out the color of Katani’s sparkly lilac eye shadow, and her new jeans hung perfectly on her slender frame. She pronounced Katani’s style makeover a major success.
As she made one final twirl she thought, I’m ready to ask Nick to the dance today—even though her heart hammered in her chest, her knees wobbled, and she didn’t know if she’d be able to eat a single bite of anything at Brookline’s famous bakery.
Just then, she heard a knock on her bedroom door.
“Come in, Dad,” Charlotte said, smoothing down her hair—still warm from the curling iron—with nervous fingers.
Dad poked his head in and whistled. “Wow, sweetie! You’re dressed up. What’s the occasion?”
Charlotte pushed back a sliver of hurt. Her dad was keeping the important news about his date from her, but he wanted to hear about her life. Charlotte didn’t feel like she could share right now. “Uh…Dad, there’s no special occasion. I just wanted to look nice this morning.”
Mr. Ramsey held up his hands and smiled. “Well, you look beautiful…as always. Come on into the kitchen. I’ll fix you some breakfast.”
Charlotte danced over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Sorry, Dad. I’m going to Montoya’s this morning. Thanks, anyway.”
“Well, give my best to the BSG.” Her Dad smiled, gave her a little wave, and walked back to the kitchen.
Charlotte rushed downstairs and out the door. She felt a tad guilty that she had let her dad believe that she was dressing up for no reason, but she was so excited about seeing Nick that she had to concentrate on keeping herself from skipping down the sidewalk.
Be cool; be confident, she told herself. Just like Katani said. Except Charlotte wasn’t really the calm, cool, collected type. She was the nervous, klutzy type, and anything could happen on an important morning like this. Just breathe, she whispered to herself as she began to race down Beacon Street to her destiny!
Ten minutes later a breathless Charlotte arrived at Montoya’s, exhausted from running. So much for breathing. She sighed as she stood at the bakery’s entrance trying to collect her jumbled up thoughts…and build up her courage.
Hi, Nick. What are your plans for this Friday? she practiced in her head, going through the dialogue Katani had helped her prepare.
But the mouthwatering smells of freshly baked cinnamon rolls and cappuccino drifting in the air distracted Charlotte, and prompted a growl from her hungry stomach. A nice croissant with some hot chocolate would be delicious right now, but first I need to find Nick.
Scanning the busy bakery, Charlotte saw bleary-eyed college kids sipping lattes, businesspeople in suits, moms with babies in strollers, standing in line for cappuccinos. But where was Nick?
Charlotte decided to take a seat at the BSG’s favorite table and wait for him. It would give her some time to prepare herself to do what she had never done before—ask a boy, and not just any ordinary boy, but a very special boy, to a special dance.
Pulling a notebook from her school bag, and one of her favorite purple pens, she began to jot down her thoughts. Charlotte loved to write. For her, writing was sometimes easier than talking. This was one of those times.
Hi, Nick…She chuckled. Good beginning. She looked up, hoping no one had heard her laugh. She didn’t want anyone to think she was talking to herself. Your mom makes the best croissants—would you like a bite? Well, how about that Valentine’s Day Dance? Everybody’s talking about it. Would you like to go with me? Please say yes so I don’t have to feel like a complete goof. She added a smiley face for good measure.
Just then Charlotte felt eyes looking over her shoulder. She quickly closed the notebook and turned around. It was Fabiana, Nick’s sister. Charlotte suppressed a gasp. Had Fabiana seen her note?
“Hey, Charlotte. How’s it going? Would you like something to eat?” Fabiana asked coolly, like she hadn’t seen anything at all.
Charlotte smiled up at her and managed to spit out, “Things are okay…. I’m just waiting for Nick.”
Nick’s sister was one of the most popular girls at the high school, and a star in all the school musicals. When she sang “Tonight” in West Side Story, the whole audience stood up and applauded in the middle of the musical. Of course Maeve practically worshipped the ground Fabiana walked on.
While she collected some empty coffee mugs from a nearby table, Fabiana asked, “Did Nick know you were coming? ’Cause he said he was going to meet Chelsea this morning, and he already left.”
Did he know I was coming…meeting with Chelsea… Charlotte froze. Act normal, don’t lose it. She bobbed her head up and down. Her mouth formed an Oh, but she wasn’t sure if she actually said anything.
Fabiana looked at her with alarm. “Are you okay, Charlotte?”
Charlotte forced herself to speak, but her voice came out all rusty and cracked. “Um…I’m…fine. I…I needed help with some homework….” Charlotte couldn’t go on. A lump the s
ize of Nebraska had formed in her throat.
“I’m sure he’s waiting for you at school,” Fabiana said as she rested a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder.
Charlotte quickly stood up and, before Fabiana could say anything else, she fled the bakery, her book bag banging against her side.
Misery to the Max
When Charlotte arrived at school she saw them: Nick and Chelsea. They were laughing and smiling at each other as they stood in the hallway. Nick was interviewing the Trentini twins while Chelsea was adjusting the lens on the camera. Suddenly, Nick and Chelsea began howling as the Trentini goofballs posed like super athletes for the camera.
Charlotte felt like an elephant had trampled her heart. How could Nick do this to me? she thought wildly. He’s supposed to be my friend! And Chelsea, too!
She quickly walked past them, her head down.
Nick looked up and saw Charlotte briskly moving past him.
“Sorry. Gotta go,” he said to Chelsea, and raced after Charlotte. But it was too late. She had already disappeared into the crowded hallway. And even though she heard him call out to her, she wouldn’t look back. Not today.
Cornered
I wonder why Nick took off like that, Chelsea thought as she aimed her camera at a group of girls holding pictures of celebrities they absolutely loved. Weird.
She shrugged and snapped the picture. The girls laughed and waved at Chelsea as they trooped down the hallway. I have to find more examples of “Love Is in the Air,” Chelsea thought. Something that represents how fantastic it is to love something or…someone.
She felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around.
“Trevor!” she said, feeling her whole face light up. Chelsea, chill on the over eager stuff, she scolded herself. But it was hard not to smile at Trevor. He’s so cute and nice and sweet and…
“Hi, Chelsea. What’s up?”
He stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. His black T-shirt looked so good with his blond hair! Did he have any idea how adorable he was?
“Oh, nothing,” she said. “Just taking pictures for my Sentinel project.”
Trevor nodded and stared at her with sparkling eyes. “Oh, yeah. Cool.”
He looks at me as if he is completely interested in every single word that comes out of my mouth. Does he do that to everyone he talks to?
And he’s still talking to me. Pay attention!
“We should hang out together sometime. What kinds of things do you like to do?” Trevor asked.
Chelsea’s knees began to wobble She shrugged, trying to look cool. “Oh…anything. Movies, the mall, museums—stuff like that.”
“Do you like skating?” he asked.
“Sure,” said Chelsea.
She was really trying to be more physically active, hoping to become healthier. Ever since she’d started eating a more balanced diet, she’d found she had more energy to do stuff like bike riding and skating. And, to her surprise, she’d discovered she actually loved being active. It made her feel happy and positive about herself—which was just what Jody, her favorite camp counselor from Lake Rescue, had told her would happen.
“Hey, Chelsea,” said a voice behind her.
Chelsea’s shoulders hunched up to her ears. It was Joline Kaminsky.
“Hey, Chelsea,” said another sickly sweet voice.
Great, thought Chelsea. The double whammy. QOM times two.
“Uh…hi, Joline, Anna.”
The Queens of Mean moved closer to Chelsea and Trevor. All Chelsea could think of was two lionesses moving in on their prey. Both of them flashed huge tooth-whitened smiles at Trevor as they flipped their perfect hair over their shoulders.
Could their skirts possibly get any shorter? Chelsea thought, eyeing the girls’ matching red skirts and white baby tees. They reminded her of the set of twins on the new gum commercial everyone was imitating lately.
“Hi, Trevor,” the Queens of Mean chorused, then turned their stalking eyes back toward Chelsea.
“Chelsea, you look great,” Joline gushed, her voice incredibly fake. “I can’t believe how much weight you’ve lost!”
There it is—the sneak attack. Chelsea felt her face grow hot.
“Yeah,” Anna said with fake admiration. “You’ve totally slimmed down.”
Joline stifled a smirk behind her hand. “I guess it’s great not having to go into the plus-size stores anymore.”
Chelsea simply turned on her heel and raced away, pushing her way through the crowd of kids on their way to homeroom. Yes, let’s all laugh at the fat girl! It’s so much fun! There was no way she was going to stick around for that. She brushed a tear from her eyes. But crying wasn’t what she really wanted to do. She wanted to scream at Anna and Joline to find your own friends!
Frowning as Chelsea took off, Trevor began to walk away, but not before throwing a dismissive look to the Queens of Mean. “What’s your problem, dudes? Chelsea’s a nice kid.”
Anna and Joline watched him go, their faces flushed with embarrassment. “He is so erased off my list of top-ten hot guys,” Joline said.
Anna bit her lip and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “Totally.”
Recipe for Heartbreak
Ten O’Clock Study Hall: Montoya’s Bakery Recipe for a Disastrous Non-Date
Charlotte’s Journal
1 cup favorite outfit
1/2 cup of Ultimate Makeover courtesy of Kgirl
1 tsp. of dodging Dad’s questions about why so dressed up
1 tbsp. of frantic dash to meet a really cute crush
2 tsp. of waiting around for, like, forever
A dash of really cute crush’s big sis seeing a private note about crush
3 cups of missing Nick Montoya!
5 cups of feeling like a complete nerd as everyone watches you run red-faced out of bakery
Mix ingredients well and bake in an oven of embarrassment for forty-five minutes
Serves one
Comfort and Fruit Salad
The BSG sat around the cafeteria table, trying to console their friend. But it wasn’t working.
“And then I found him already at school, laughing and talking with Chelsea. He was helping her take pictures and they were having the best time,” a wistful Charlotte described as she picked at her fruit salad. She had totally lost her appetite.
“I just don’t understand it.” She looked up at her friends. “I thought…I thought he liked me. What happened? Did I read Nick all wrong? I read in a magazine that you can tell if a boy is crushing on you just by reading the signals he sends you.”
Avery looked totally confused. “What do you mean…signals? Like in baseball? Charlotte allowed herself a tiny chuckle. It ended in a hiccup.
Katani glared at Avery. “Clue yourself in, girl! You know the kind of signals she means. Boys teasing you, walking beside you in the hall.”
“Sorry,” Avery mumbled, and took a bite of her ham sandwich.
Charlotte sent Avery a watery smile. “No, that’s okay. I needed to laugh right now.”
Isabel patted Charlotte’s hand. “I’m sure you read his signals just fine. There has to be a logical explanation for all this. Nick has liked you as long as I have been here.”
Katani leaned forward on her elbows. “This is a lesson for all of us. A girl has to be able to stand on her own two feet. You know—be strong and confident. It’s SSGP Rule number one!”
“Uh, Katani, now I am really confused. What does SSGP mean? Inquiring minds really do want to know,” Maeve asked.
Katani looked around at her BSG and performed a little dance in her seat. “Super Star Girl Power!” she sang in her off-key voice.
“You know, ladies,” she continued, “we gotta be like in the old Destiny’s Child song: ‘Independent Women.’ That should be every girl’s anthem.”
“I love that one!” said Avery.
At that, she stood up and began to sing the song as she flailed about. This was Avery’s attempt at dancing.
>
“Avery, sit!” Isabel grabbed Avery’s shirt and pulled her back down. “You’re totally embarrassing us!”
“What?” Avery asked innocently. “What happened to SSGP?”
Katani grimaced. “I don’t think that applies to dancing like a chicken in the middle of the cafeteria.”
Isabel leaned her elbows on the table and propped her chin in her hands. “Well, my abuelita always says you really do have to make your own happiness. Having a boyfriend is fine and dandy, but you need to be able to find happiness on your own. It’s what makes you a beautiful woman.”
“Well, I’m done with boys,” Maeve blurted out. “They just make you miserable. Playing with your heart and stomping all over it till it…bursts like a balloon!”
“That’s kind of harsh, Maeve,” Avery commented.
Maeve’s chin quivered as she placed her hands flat on the table and stood up. “And another thing. It isn’t cool for friends to steal other friends’ crushes. That is the ultimate in betrayal. It’s just like that Bette Davis movie All About Eve where the famous actress becomes friends with the girl who wants to be an actress too, and the other actress tries to steal away her boyfriend and take away her roles and…”
The BSG stared at her in confusion.
“Maeve. What in the world are you talking about?” Katani asked.
Maeve threw up her arms in frustration. “Bette Davis was a famous movie star a long time ago, and she…you should see the movie.” Maeve pointed at Avery, a suspicious hint of tears in her eyes.
Suddenly the table went silent.
Avery felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Dude!” Dillon said. “Pete Wexler was dissing the Brady Man, and I need someone with solid Patriots knowledge on my side. Come on.”
Avery gratefully let him drag her over to the boys’ table. She’d rather talk about football than deal with Maeve’s sudden attack of weirdness.
Maeve stared after them in silent outrage. Finally she jumped up from her seat. “That’s it! I’m out of here.” She flounced out of the cafeteria.
“Oh. My. Gosh,” Isabel said in a hushed voice. “It’s a love triangle.”
