by Lauren Brown
Copyright
Copyright © 2010 by Lauren Brown
Cover and internal design © 2010 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover design by Cara Petrus
Cover illustration by Cara Petrus
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
Fax: (630) 961-2168
www.jabberwockykids.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is on file with the publisher.
Source of Production: Webcom, Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Date of Production: September 2010
Run Number: 13542
Table of Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
About the Author
Back Cover
Dedicated to all those girls sitting in front of their laptops and daydreaming about their name on the cover of a book.
Don’t give up! Those fantasies will become a reality!
Also lots of love and special thank-yous to Nathanael for his never-ending patience, support, and motivation and for being the best sounding board a girl could ever ask for. And, of course, to Mom, Dad, Marc, Lindsie, and Poppop for always being my Number One fans.
Chapter One
Roxy Davis smeared a glob of shimmery gloss on her already naturally pink lips, covered up her sparkly, brown eyes with a pair of oversized sunglasses, and let out a long, deep sigh.
What’s taking so long? she wondered as she leaned into the leather seat cushion in the backseat of her dad’s silver sports car.
Roxy couldn’t imagine being late for the first day of school. She was expected to be on the front steps with the rest of her crew. It would look terrible for the queen bee of the seventh grade to get to school after the first bell rang. Well, co-queen bee.
She was sharing the honor with her best friend, Liz Craft, of course. They were the new princesses of Monroe Middle School, and they had waited all summer to wear their crowns. Liz would be ultra-annoyed if Roxy showed up even one second late. When Roxy’s platinum pink BlackBerry started buzzing in her lap, her stomach knotted up like a pretzel. The text was from Liz.
Leaving in a few—what’s ur location?
Roxy leaned over to the front seat and started pounding on the horn.
“Dad!” she screamed out the window. “Dad! I’m going to be late!”
Roxy’s dad came running out of the house. His tie was hanging loosely around his neck, and he was carrying his suit jacket over his briefcase. He looked disheveled and angry as he got in the driver’s seat.
“Roxy, we never leave for school this early,” he said breathlessly. “And why are you in the backseat? I’m not your chauffeur.”
“C’mon, Dad, this year is way different. That means I absolutely have to be on the front steps at least twenty minutes before the first bell,” she tried to explain calmly. “And gross! Only sixth graders sit in the front seat with their daddies!”
Roxy’s dad sighed, turned on the radio, and started singing along to a whiny old tune from the ’80s. Roxy tried to block the sound out while texting Liz a little white lie.
Almost there!
Roxy closed her eyes and twirled her pin-straight brown hair around her perfectly manicured finger. Hair-twirling was her worst habit, and she only did it when she was stressed. During sixth grade, Roxy and Liz had worked very hard to earn the respect of their classmates—allowing them to rise to the top of the social circle for this year. Roxy wasn’t about to ruin that on the first day of school.
She tried to relax, but her skinny jeans were too tight. She squirmed and quickly unfastened the top button. Whew. At least she could breathe before school. According to the Fashion Bible—the top-secret notebook Liz and Roxy used to plan their daily outfits down to a nail-polish shade, Roxy was to complement her too-tight jeans with the perfect pair of rocket-red platform boots.
The boots already pinched her feet, but Roxy had known she was taking that risk when she’d bought them a half size too small. It wasn’t so much a risk as a requirement. Liz had insisted they share shoes so they could double their wardrobe options.
Roxy didn’t mind that Liz had feet a half size smaller than hers. After all, Liz had perfect arches and needed to wear properly fitting shoes at all times. Besides, once an outfit was logged into the Fashion Bible, there was no turning back.
“Holy Mother of…” Roxy’s dad yelled as the car came screeching to a halt. It jerked forward so suddenly that Roxy’s sunglasses flew off and her BlackBerry vanished underneath the front seat.
“Dad! Come on—I’m late…” Roxy looked out the window—and then blinked and looked again. Was she seeing things? “Dad? What’s happening? What’s going on?”
Traffic was backed up in every lane of the main intersection—the same intersection that Roxy needed to cross to get to school. All of the town’s dog walkers marched in front of the traffic jam—with no regard for the green traffic lights. They paced back and forth with signs in their hands that read, “DOG WALKERS ON STRIKE!” They chanted in unison slogans like, “Dog Walkers Unite!”
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Every dog the walkers were responsible for ran free in the streets. People were abandoning their cars in the middle of the street to search for their lost dogs. Those without dogs had no choice but to leave their cars too. The risk of running over a pooch made driving way too dangerous. The dogs, however, clearly loved every second of their newfound freedom.
“Dad! How am I going to get to school?” Roxy shrieked while an oversized black poodle started pawing at her through the window. “I should have been there already!”
Roxy’s dad leaned on the horn to shoo away a Doberman that was using the hood of their car as a tanning bed.
“I hate to tell you, but I think you’re going to have to walk the rest of the way, Pumpkin,” her dad sighed. “It’s only a few more blocks.”
“I’m already late!” Roxy’s voice went up three octaves. The ears of a few dogs surrounding the car perked up at the shrill noise.
“You’re acting rather spoiled, Roxy,” Mr. Davis said sternly. “And I don’t think you have much choice about walking.”
Roxy managed to locate her BlackBerry and texted Liz. This was an absolute catastrophe.
Have u seen loser dog walkers & picket line? Going 2 b late…don’t freak!
Hitting “Send,” Roxy knew Liz would freak. She slammed the car door shut, muttering a quick good-bye to her dad. Taking slow, tiny steps in her t
oo tight, too tall boots, Roxy began to tiptoe her way through the mess of dogs and people. She didn’t want to tumble over—and walking this slowly was the only way to prevent her feet from going numb with pain.
Why did I ever listen to Liz? Of course, she decided to wear flats today! It’s going to take me hours at this rate!
“Dog Walkers on Strike!”
“Dog Walkers Unite!”
The chanting was loud and overwhelming. Great, I’m going to go deaf too, Roxy worried as she navigated her way along the messy sidewalks.
She had to watch every step while passing through the dangerous zone of dog-pile land mines. Dogs of every size, color, and breed ran wild through the streets. Chihuahuas and Yorkshire terriers were playing tug-of-war with a water hose. A pack of Dalmatians and Labrador retrievers were going from garden to garden and digging up carefully manicured flower beds. Several fluffy sheepdogs herded small children safely through crosswalks.
Lazy malamutes and Bernese mountain dogs slept on sidewalks, enjoying mid-morning naps. Impressive Great Danes planted themselves in front of shop entrances, not allowing anyone in or out. And spunky greyhounds and border collies swiftly chased cats up trees. Roxy’s usually beautiful neighborhood looked like a giant, overrun dog park.
Why isn’t Liz texting me back? Roxy started to panic. She was officially late. And since Liz lived around the corner from the school, she didn’t have to deal with the chaos.
Even though Roxy knew her thoughts made perfect sense, she also knew that Liz would never see it her way. If aliens abducted Roxy this morning, Liz would accuse her of being more loyal to some weird space creatures than to her.
Roxy was about to risk spraining her ankle by breaking into a full-on sprint when she felt something pulling at her leg.
“Little Roxie! What are you doing here?” Roxy squealed. Nipping at her feet was Liz’s little black-and-tan Yorkie-Poo, which although spelled differently, happened to be named Roxie too. “Did those stupid dog walkers let you loose?”
Roxy picked up little Roxie. The tiny dog was shaking, but she licked Roxy’s face and calmed down as soon as she felt safe. Little Roxie had already been a part of Liz’s family when the girls became friends in the second grade. At first, Liz had suggested that Roxy should think about changing her name—but instead they called the cute pooch “little” Roxie. (Liz had a knack for noting Roxy’s similarities with little Roxie too!)
Right now, little Roxie might just be the lucky charm Roxy needed to turn around her morning of misfortunes. Liz couldn’t blame Roxy for being a few minutes late because she had rescued little Roxie from the dog-walkers’ strike. Could she?
Roxy breathed a sigh of relief as she and little Roxie headed up the marble steps that led to the mansion where Liz’s family lived. Roxy wasn’t sure if anyone was home, but she knew that the Crafts kept a spare key in the basket of flowers next to the front door, and she couldn’t waste any more time getting to school.
“Now you be sure to tell Liz how excited you were that I brought you home safely!” Roxy cooed into little Roxie’s ear as she wiped the dog’s paws and let her inside. “You be a good girl!”
Roxy laughed as little Roxie immediately plopped down on her purse-shaped lounge pillow. Everything little Roxie had was over the top and girly—including a hot-pink collar that spelled “ROXIE” in rhinestones.
Be @ school in a flash…just rescued L’il R! She’s @ home safe & sound.
Roxy hurried off to school—as fast as she could with boots that squeezed her feet with every step. Okay, we’re off to a shaky start, she sighed. But this still is my year!
DOGGY CONFESSIONAL
LITTLE ROXIE
What a strange morning! I mean, my dog walker just let me out of the house without a leash! I'll tell you, sister, she was mad about something-going on and on about how I live in such a big house but my owners are really cheap! I almost lost my biscuits when I heard that.
I bet Liz will yell at her the way she was yelling on the phone this morning. I'm not sure what was going on, but she was downright rabid. It had something to do with Roxy. When Roxy texted her this morning, Liz just shook her head and ignored it. I smell a scuffle brewing. I saw the way Liz was showing her teeth and snarling. She was ready to attack!
When it comes to Liz and Roxy, it's obvious who reigns as alpha dog.
Chapter Two
Roxy winced with every step she took, but she ignored the pain because nothing mattered right now except making her grand entrance at school. Her breathing returned to normal as she finally made her way onto the Monroe Middle School grounds.
She was all set to break into a mad dash to the front steps—but she couldn’t. The normally peaceful front lawn looked about as insane as the mall on the day after Thanksgiving—that is, if the mall were overrun with dogs (and a few cats for good measure).
Dogs used notebooks as Frisbees and backpacks as chew toys and annoyingly begged every student, teacher, and janitor for affection and treats. The pets all looked lost and confused—and that just irritated Roxy. She crossed her arms in a huff as she stood in the middle of the chaos, and frantically tried to spot Liz or anyone she knew.
Principal West stood at the front entrance. He tried to guide the dogs back outside and the students inside, but it was no use. Dark stains of sweat pooled around his armpits, and his bushy eyebrows wiggled up and down. Poor Principal West was more frazzled than ever.
“Move along, everyone!” he yelled into a megaphone with exasperation. “I will not hesitate to give a detention to any student who’s not sitting in homeroom by the last bell.” After two golden retrievers ran through his legs and into the building, he finally sat down on the steps with his head in his hands.
Roxy made a mental note to ask Liz at lunch if she thought Principal West wore a toupee and then sat down on a bench to adjust her boots. At this point, she didn’t care if she got detention. She was in agony and wondered if she could get into trouble for showing up to class barefoot. Roxy was about to try walking again when a mob of dogs led by Kim Pierce blocked her path.
Kim, known as the “Dog Whisperer” by the students of Monroe Middle School, cared for dogs more than anything else in the world. Dogs were her only friends, and Roxy and Liz thought she was super-weird.
“Excuse me! Watch where you’re going!” Kim demanded as she tried to steer some mutts away from the dumpster. Roxy wasn’t sure if Kim was talking to the dogs or to the students that almost stepped on them. “Animals can and will have panic attacks if they don’t have enough space!”
Roxy wished Liz was with her to witness this. It was almost as good as the day last year in Algebra when the room suddenly began to smell like wet dog food. Nobody was certain where the stink was coming from, but when Kim walked to the chalkboard to demonstrate the solution to a tricky equation and a big open packet of smelly dog treats fell from her pocket, the class’s suspicions were confirmed.
Liz and Roxy had burst out laughing. When Liz asked if Kim was wearing “Eau de Dog-ay,” Roxy had thought she just might pee her pants. The rest of the class started howling and barking. Kim didn’t cry—she just went back to her seat with a stone face. Now, at least ten dogs surrounded Kim, and, of course, she had more than enough treats for them all.
This must be like her birthday and Christmas all in one! Roxy laughed to herself as she watched Kim try to stuff a teacup poodle into her backpack. Kim stood and started walking backward, and all the dogs followed as she called out commands. With each step she took, Kim inched closer and closer to a smoldering pile of fresh poop. The words “Look out!” popped into Roxy’s head, but she couldn’t get them out in time. Roxy heard a “squish,” and Kim Pierce was knee deep in dog poop.
“Gross!” a loud voice boomed, followed by several gagging sounds. “I’m totally going to throw up, Kim!”
The commotion drew a crowd. Kim, however, care
d way more about the pug eating someone’s Biology book than that her pink Converse sneakers were now brown and stinky. Kim left sloppy, smelly footprints as she ran over to stop the pug.
“Seriously, Kim…” The voice was loud and harsh. “Can’t you smell that?”
The crowd had doubled in size, and everyone was laughing—and pinching their noses. Roxy even noticed one of the janitors trying to hold back a smirk. The voice belonged to none other than Georgia Sweeney. Roxy should’ve known; that girl said whatever came to her mind. It was like she had no filter in her brain to stop herself.
“It’s not my fault. These dogs are off their schedules, and routine is very important for a dog’s well-being,” Kim said. The growing crowd laughed louder. “Dogs have sensitive digestive systems and they don’t deal well with stress, so they poop…It’s their way of communicating.”
Hearing the word “poop” was too much for the boys to handle.
“Maybe you need a diaper!”
“Stink bomb!”
“Dog freak!”
Roxy wished she had some popcorn for this show. Where is Liz? Roxy knew things were out of whack today, but it wasn’t like Liz to miss out on a spectacle—especially one like this. Liz had a sixth sense about when drama was unfolding.
“If you’re such a dog expert, why don’t you have a pooper-scooper?” Georgia asked with a gag.
Kim tried to wipe off the dog poop with a small dog-treat wrapper, but it was no use. She was flustered from all the laughter, and she was much more concerned with helping the dogs than with herself.
“I seriously have to go and puke,” Georgia said as she ran toward the front entrance. “This has been the most wretched morning ever!”
The final bell rang, and everyone—including the dogs—scattered. Roxy didn’t move. She wanted to delay the pain from walking in her boots for as long as possible. Principal West was now in the faculty parking lot directing traffic so teachers could park their cars without running over any dogs. Roxy knew he was far too busy to give out detentions. Many dogs had followed their owners to school, so a lot of kids were still outside trying to command their pets to go home. Roxy texted Liz:
