Boys Are Dogs (16 page)

She didn’t even seem that upset. “I’m just excited about our week together. And I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” I asked.

“Come see.” She waved me inside, and told me before I had time to figure it out. “I brought home dinner from Hunan Park.”

Hunan Park is our favorite Chinese restaurant. They don’t deliver as far as Westlake, obviously, so we hadn’t had it since before summer. I followed her into the kitchen, where the familiar smells of moo shu pork and vegetable lo mein wafted from two takeout bags on the counter. Yum.

I walked over to the cabinet next to the sink and pulled out a couple of place mats.

“What are you doing?” asked Mom.

“Setting the kitchen table.”

“Just get plates and napkins. We’ll eat in the living room.”

I turned around, surprised. “But the coffee table is from France.”

Mom let out a laugh. “Oh, lots of things are from France, honey. That doesn’t mean they’re better than the things from here. And that certainly doesn’t mean we can’t eat off them.”

I wasn’t going to argue with that. I piled food onto my plate and grabbed a Sprite. Then Mom and I headed into the living room and settled onto the couch. She grabbed a remote and tried to click on the TV.

“That’s the wrong one,” I said. Now that we lived with Dweeble, we had six remotes. Different ones operated the cable, the stereo, the DVD player, the surround sound speakers, and I don’t know what else, even. I figured out all the important ones right away, but Mom was still pretty much clueless.

“Here you go.” I handed her the right remote.

“I don’t know why we need so many.” She frowned as she turned on the TV.

“Hey, this wasn’t my idea.”

“I should have rented a movie. Do you want to go get one, later?” Mom balanced her plate in her lap and put her feet on the table.

“We can watch whatever.” There’s nothing good on Saturday nights, but that wasn’t the point. I was happy just hanging out.

She flipped through channels until she came to a National Geographic show about bugs in the rain forest. “This okay?” she asked.

“Sure.”

Pepper came over and sniffed our food. He tried eating a dumpling off my plate, but I pulled him away just in time. Then, since he wouldn’t leave us alone, I got up and put him in his kennel.

“It’s just until we’re done eating,” I told him.

Pepper barked a bit, but as soon as I walked away, he curled up on his new pillow and closed his eyes.

“You’re doing so well with the training,” Mom said.

“You haven’t seen poor Buttons.”

“Your hippo? What happened?”

“She kind of got scalped.”

“Oh, Pepper.” Mom shook her head. “I’ll bring her to the dry cleaners. Maybe they can sew her up. Do you still have the pieces?”

“Yup. That’d be great.”

After dinner, Mom made our favorite dessert: popcorn with M&MS mixed in. Then, out of nowhere, she turned off the TV and got all serious, asking, “Are you okay, Annabelle? If there’s something going on, or anything you want to talk about . . .”

“What would I want to talk about?”

“Well, last night. Did you have fun with Mia and Sophia? You girls were pretty quiet at breakfast.”

“It was fine,” I told her, since I didn’t know what else to say. Seeing my friends
had
been fun at first. But then Sophia started acting so bossy, and Mia was too quiet. I mean, I guess they were always like that, but it never bothered me before. I don’t know what changed.

When Mom didn’t say anything I added, “I guess it was kind of weird.”

She sighed. “I’m sure Sophia and Mia will always be a part of your life, but it’s hard to stay best friends with girls you don’t see all the time. Things are so different now, and I know that’s hard to accept. But I’m hoping it’ll get easier, in time.”

I pressed my lips together and didn’t respond. Mom stared at me like I was one of those posters with a second, hidden picture inside. She was trying to figure something out, but I didn’t know what.

“But you’re making new friends, right? Are you happy here? I want to make sure you’re happy.”

“If I say I don’t like it, do we get to move back to North Hollywood?” I don’t know why I asked her this. I knew it would never happen.

“No, but if you’re not happy, we’ll talk about it and figure out how you can
be
happy.”

It was so easy for her to say, when she made all the decisions, and didn’t have to deal with Jackson and the other boys from Birchwood Middle School every single day. But I wasn’t going to tell her any of that.

“I know it’s been a rough couple of weeks, but do you think school might get better?”

I’d never told my mom about my problems at Birchwood, but I guess she could tell. I thought about the boy training I’d already done, and all the training I still had left to do. Dealing with Pepper was easy. Dealing with boys? Not so much. Of course, there was only one Pepper. And there were hundreds of boys.

Maybe I did just need more time.

“It’ll be okay, probably,” I said.

“I’m sure it will. And just so you know, you’re not the only one who misses the old apartment.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Of course. It’s a big adjustment for me, too. Living in the suburbs, sharing this house. You’ll get used to it, though. I promise. Just give it more time. I’ve been here all summer.”

“I guess.”

“And you’ll get used to living with Ted, too. Don’t worry.”

I let out a laugh. “I’m not worried about that. Dweeble’s completely predictable. All he does is run and cook and listen to lousy music.”

Mom stared at me, with her eyebrows wrinkled and her lips pressed together.

“What?” I asked. “I was just kidding. He’s a good guy. And I like his cooking.”

“But what did you just call him?” she asked, carefully. Uh-oh. “Um, Weeble. You know how his last name is Weeble?”

Mom didn’t say anything at first. My stomach felt funny. All that Chinese food churned from deep within. I shouldn’t have had that third dumpling. Maybe Pepper was trying to tell me something when he tried to steal it off my plate.

Finally, she shook her head slowly and said, “I know Ted’s last name, and I don’t think you called him Weeble, honey.”

She was onto me, but I couldn’t give it up.

I laughed nervously. “Sure I did. Lots of guys at Birchwood go by their last names. I don’t know why. But now I’m used to it.” I took a sip of Sprite, just to do something. Maybe it would calm my stomach like ginger ale. Or maybe it was the ginger that did that and not the soda part. “Hey, want to rent that movie now?”

Mom wouldn’t let it go. “Funny, because it sounded to me like you said Dweeble. As in, you think my boyfriend is a dweeb.”

I tried to keep a straight face, to act like I’d no idea what she was talking about. “Nope.” I shook my head. “You must have misheard me. Which is kind of weird. Is it because you think your boyfriend is a dweeb?”

There was no use trying to get out of it. She knew. I figured she’d scold me or at least ask me to apologize. But instead, she took a swig of her beer, wiped her mouth, and said, “You’re very creative, Annabelle.”

I reached into the popcorn bowl and took the last few kernels, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye.

Mom bit her bottom lip, looked at me for a second and turned away. Then out of nowhere, she burst into hysterics.

Was she so mad that she’d completely cracked up? I didn’t know what was going on until she yelled, “Dweeble!” and then covered her hand with her mouth, because she was laughing so hard.

I smiled at her, hardly believing what was happening. My mother thought it was funny. I didn’t want to press my luck, but still said, “You must admit, it kind of fits.”

She shook her head back and forth like she knew she shouldn’t be laughing but just couldn’t help herself. Then she doubled over on the couch and clutched her belly.

Seeing her act like a lunatic made me laugh, too.

“I’m sorry,” I squeaked out, which wasn’t easy since I was giggling so much.

“No you’re not.”

“I mean I’m sorry I got caught,” I said meekly.

We laughed until it hurt—until we were red faced and out of breath and too exhausted to laugh anymore.

After we calmed down, we sat on the couch in silence, our shoulders touching, dirty plates still stacked on the fancy coffee table. My soda and her beer sat next to them—not on coasters. She put her arm around me and I didn’t shrug away.

“So, we’re staying here, right?” I asked. “For good?”

“We are, as far as I know.” She paused. “Are you okay with that?”

I thought about it for a minute before answering her. I looked around the living room. The puke green carpet didn’t look so pukey in the dark. Dweeble wasn’t all bad. In fact, he was pretty cool, in his own dweeby way. And it’s not like we could move Pepper into an apartment, when he was already used to having a whole backyard.

Jackson was a disaster, but I’d made some progress with Tobias and the other boys. Plus, I still had a few chapters left in the dog-training book. So maybe there was hope.

“It’ll be okay,” I told her.

I don’t know if this was actually true or just wishful thinking. But I wanted it to be true. I wanted it badly.

chapter sixteen
the purple envelope

R
achel called me early the next morning and asked if she could come over.

“Sure,” I said.

“Except I’m not allowed to come into your house because of your dog. My mom is afraid I’ll have an allergy attack. So can you meet me on your front doorstep?”

“Okay, when?” I asked.

“Right now,” she said, like it was obvious.

The doorbell rang before I even hung up. Pepper went crazy-hyper, as usual, barking and jumping and wagging his tail. I tried grabbing him by the collar, but he kept wriggling out of my grasp. I had to struggle to sneak around him, crack the door open the tiniest bit and squeeze through.

“Whew!” I said, once I was safely outside, with the door slammed shut behind me.

Rachel’s bike was already parked at the curb, and Rachel herself stood on the front step. She wore another ski cap but this one was gray with blue stripes.

“That was fast,” I said.

“I know. I called you from my new cell,” she said, holding up a small pink phone.

“Cool!”

“I can only use it for emergencies, but I think this counts.” She handed me a purple envelope. “I passed these out at lunch on Friday, but you were already gone.”

Right. I’d been ducking out early to go over my boy-training notes. Not that I could actually admit that.

Just then we heard Pepper jump and bark at the door. His nails scraped the wood so hard, he probably left marks. I added that to the ever-growing list of things I had to teach him not to do.

“He’s pretty hyper today, huh?” Rachel asked.

“He’s like that every day.” I wished Pepper didn’t have to bark so loud. I flipped the envelope over in my hands. “What’s this?” I asked.

“An invitation to my birthday party.”

“Cool, thanks. When is it?”

“Well, open it up and find out,” Rachel said.

So I did. The invitation was pink, the kind you buy at a fancy stationery store. All Rachel had to do was fill in the date and place and time. She didn’t even have to write the words
date
,
place
, or
time
because they were already printed in swirly blue writing.

“Saturday at fourteen minutes past noon,” I read.

“That’s in six days, not that I’m counting. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m totally counting.” She looked at her watch. “The party starts in one hundred and forty seven hours and eleven minutes.”

“So exact,” I said.

“I always start my birthday parties at fourteen minutes past twelve, because that’s what time I was born. So can you come?”

At the bottom of the invitation, Rachel had written, “Bring your bathing suit, a beach towel, and a change of clothes,” in silver felt-tipped marker.

“We’re going to the beach?” I asked.

“No, the party is at my house.”

“But you said we should bring beach towels.”

Rachel laughed until she realized I was seriously confused.

“I wrote that because beach towels are bigger and softer than regular towels.”

“Oh,” I said.

“And they’re better for lying out,” she went on.

“So true,” I said, although I’d never laid out before in my entire life. My skin is so pale I have to wear SPF 45 sunblock all summer. Plus, lying around doing nothing is boring. Another problem? Mom and I used the same towels for the bath and the beach. And none of them was particularly big or soft. At least I had some time to figure this all out.

“So who else is going?” I asked.

“The usual crowd. Yumi, Claire, Emma, and you.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“That’s it. I wanted to invite Miles and Leo from band, but my mom doesn’t want too many people at a pool party. She’s kind of paranoid sometimes. Plus, she said if I invited boys then Jackson would have to come, too. He’s going to a friend’s house that day instead. My parents promised.”

Even though I was relieved that there wouldn’t be any boys (and especially any big brothers) at Rachel’s party, I didn’t say so. I hadn’t realized that Rachel actually had friends who were boys. I didn’t want her to know how nervous they made me.