Pat leads us past the door and into a long, narrow room lined with portable metal cages of various sizes. The distinct smell of dog—sweat, fur, drool—is that much stronger back here, on account of the five dogs of varying sizes and color, already on their feet and panting as Cassie holds her hand out to their cages, greeting each one by name.
“Bangles already had his walk today, but Roger Dodger is ready for you.”
“Hi, Roger Dodger!” Cassie exclaims in a high-pitched, excited voice, bending down to clap and greet a scruffy gray Lhasa Apso, who is attempting to cram his snout through the cage. She fumbles with the latch on the cage. “I can’t do it.”
I move in to help her, but Pat puts a hand up to stop me, winking at me. “Yes, you can, Cassie. Remember, pull up and then turn.”
The dog is tearing around in circles by the time the gate pops open. He comes barreling out to jump on her legs.
“He’s so excited!” Cassie laughs.
“He’s always excited when you show up. You’ll need to get him to calm down before you can get that leash on him. And … AJ, right?” When I nod, Pat continues, leading me to a cage with a heavyset black Lab. “How about you take Murphy? He’s much calmer. These two get along well enough. Come on, Murph.”
The dog hobbles out, favoring his back leg.
“Is he hurt?”
“That’s just hip dysplasia. His previous owners brought him in because he couldn’t handle being in a house with little kids anymore. Too much noise and excitement. He got grumpy.”
Sounds like Uncle Merv. “How old is he?” I scratch the gentle dog’s graying chin. He peers up at me with sad, dark eyes. Wisps of silver fleck his face.
“Oh, he’s an old guy. Over thirteen now. He just hangs out, looking for pats. Don’t you, Murph?” She pets his head. “He’s been here a while now. Will probably be here till the end.”
I study the cage that is his home. “That’s sad.”
“Yeah, I know. But it’s hard to get anyone to take a big old dog like this. ’Course Cassie would take the whole lot of them home with her, if her dad wasn’t allergic. Right, Cassie?”
“Yeah. Whoa! Hold your horses, Roger Dodger.” She laughs, letting him lead her toward the back on the leash she somehow managed to affix to his collar.
“Make sure you show AJ what needs to be done. I’ll be with Boots if you need me.”
“’Kay.”
“And Cassie …” Pat gives her a warning look.
“I know!” She grins and holds up a tiny roll of plastic poop bags, as if that’s proof of her intention.
“I go Tuesdays and sometimes Thursdays,” Cassie says, easing out of Heather’s car. “You can come with me if you want.”
“Two hours a week and you should have your community service hours by the middle of winter,” Heather adds, grabbing her purse from the passenger seat floor. “Cassie, why don’t you go in and wash your hands really well and change.”
“I don’t need to change,” Cassie argues.
Heather makes a point of staring at Cassie’s pants, drawing her daughter’s eyes down to the muddy paw prints all over them.
“Oh. That’s okay,” Cassie says, bending down to wipe at them.
“No, it’s not okay. Put them in your hamper, and put on clean pants from your drawer. Not from your floor.”
“Mom! Shhh!” Cassie’s eyes narrow with annoyance.
“I’ll be there in a minute. I need to talk to Aria alone first.”
Cassie lingers.
“I’m asking you politely to give us a moment.”
Cassie doesn’t move, her jaw setting with stubborn determination.
“Cassie!”
“Fine!” Spinning on her heels, she stomps up the path, pausing a few times as if reconsidering her compulsion to obey her mother, muttering something about not having to listen to her. Does she realize that she already is?
Heather sighs heavily, then turns her soft gray-blue eyes on me. “Do you know what happened between Emmett and Holly? All he told me is that they broke up.”
“Uh …” What do I say? I know exactly why they broke up, and I can play the reason for you right here, on my phone?
“I know. I’m sorry to corner you like this, but I’m not going to get more out of him, and he made Cassie so upset last night.”
“Yeah, she seemed a bit annoyed with him.” When Cassie and I passed the parking lot after school today, Emmett was pulling out. He waved at us. Cassie lifted her hand partway to respond before abruptly dropping it, as if she had just remembered that she’s still angry with him. And Cassie’s facial expressions are priceless. Her smiles are wide but her frowns are equally deep, and as much as she sometimes has trouble showing the right emotions for the occasion, when she gets it right … boy, does she get it right.
She outright glowered at her brother as he drove by.
“He’s adamant that she stays away from Holly and, well, as you know, Cassie doesn’t have a lot of friends to begin with. I wouldn’t want her to lose a friendship, however shallow it may be, because of her brother’s broken heart.” There’s a flash of raw vulnerability in her eyes. “If someone could help me understand—”
“You shouldn’t. Let Holly near Cassie, I mean.” I swallow. “Holly isn’t as nice as she makes herself out to be. She’s pretty horrible, actually. Some of the things she said recently about Cassie, and other people, were terrible. Or so I’ve heard,” I add quickly, and hope she doesn’t push for details. Though, there’s a chance she and my mother will talk over lunch, and my mother will divulge the bathroom recording fiasco.
Heather sighs, her jaw tightening a touch. “I always did wonder about that girl. She seemed too perfect, but she was always outwardly nice to Cassie so what could I say?”
“She is nice. Outwardly.”
“I’ve spent the last ten years, since Cassie started school, trying to shield her from the kids who might be cruel to her. I can usually see it in their eyes—the way they look at her. Or the way they brush her off. It’s always so nice when she finds someone who’s willing to give her a bit of time and respect. And patience.” I can’t help but notice the way her eyes gloss over and she blinks repeatedly.
“Mom! There’s no clean pants!” Cassie calls from the front door of their house.
Heather seems to search her thoughts. “Oh, that’s right. I haven’t folded them yet.”
“Mom!”
“I’ll be there in a minute!” Heather smiles at me. “Thank you for being a friend to Cassie, and for looking out for her.”
“Mom!”
“As much as she may test you sometimes.” She takes the same path toward the house that her daughter so insolently stomped up not long ago.
“Bye, AJ! See you tomorrow!” Cassie waves wildly at me, the smile on her face infectious.
12
Dear Julia,
I’m conflicted.
I HATE cross-country mornings, because I don’t get to run with Emmett, or drive in to school with him. BUT on the mornings I don’t have practice, I get Emmett all to myself in the morning for a half hour—no Cassie, no McNair—BECAUSE of cross-country.
Deep thoughts at 1:00 a.m. as sleep evades me, yet again.
Tomorrow’s a cross-country morning, and I’m dreading it. Holly missed last Wednesday’s and Friday’s practices. I was hoping she’d dropped out, but I overheard Ms. Moretti telling someone she’d be back tomorrow. Even if she isn’t, I can’t see Moretti kicking her off. We’re already down one runner, now that Emmett’s gone, and Holly’s a decent runner, as much as I hate to admit that.
So, I have to assume she’ll be back tomorrow morning, which means either I run behind her or deal with burning-hot laser beams drilling into the back of my head, and let me tell you, I’m getting tired of feeling those all first period, for just sitting next to Emmett.
And if she’s going to hate on every girl who goes near Emmett, she had better make a long list because, oh my God, Julia … You would not believe how many girls are suddenly lurking around him, batting their eyes and bumping into him in the halls. And they’re ALL pretty.