Pugs and Kisses Page 4

  I woke up the next morning feeling tired and bleary-eyed, wishing for another hour or so of sleep. Mom came into my room and told me that Mrs. Ramirez had already called to ask if I would walk Osito before school. Her back was hurting especially bad and she wasn’t sure if she could manage the stairs, Mom said. I felt a pang of sympathy. Since our building was a walk-up, there was no elevator, and Mrs. R’s apartment was on the fifth floor. She and her late husband had moved in many years ago, I knew, and the apartment was rent-controlled, so moving to a different apartment was probably out of the question.

  For selfish reasons, though, I hoped that Mrs. R wouldn’t move. As I pulled on my jeans and sweater I thought about what would happen if she did. Mrs. R had told me many times that if she had to give up her apartment, she would go live with her daughter in Baltimore. And then I’d probably never see my little bear again. The thought hurt my heart, but I pushed it back and quickly tied my sneakers. There was no use worrying about the possibility of Osito moving away—there was nothing I could do about it.

  I crept out of our still-quiet apartment and climbed the flight of stairs to Mrs. R’s.

  When I unlocked her door, Osito was waiting. He wagged his tail at the sight of me and I scratched behind his ears.

  “I’m here to take O!” I called. “We’ll be right back.”

  I heard a weak “Thank you, Ana” coming from the direction of the bedroom.

  I started trying to get the wriggly little ball of black fur into his harness, but then he pulled one of his tricks: rolling over onto his back. Osito wriggled around, his black eyes sparkling, and very clearly sending one message loud and clear: PET ME. I knelt beside him and scratched his belly as he continued to wriggle in delight. Then I stood up to show him it was time to go.

  “Come on, Osito,” I told him. “I’m sure you have to go to the bathroom, don’t you?” But he clearly wasn’t finished having his belly scratched. I couldn’t help but laugh as I bent down and gave him a couple more scratches, then stood again. Then, the little stinker faked me out by standing up—but when I started to put on his harness he rolled over again.

  “You’re terrible,” I told him, then crossed my arms and waited. When he still didn’t roll back over, I cracked open the door as though I were going to leave, and he finally stood upright. I picked him up to carry him quickly down the stairs and outside our building.

  As soon as we reached the closest tiny patch of grass, Osito got right down to business. He looked up at me when he was finished, and his huge, round, black eyes still seemed to be trying to communicate with me. I scooped him back up and sat down on a nearby bench with him.

  “Oh, Osito, you’re such a good, sweet little bear,” I told him, planting a kiss on the top of his soft, furry head. He responded by licking my face thoroughly, and I giggled.

  I hadn’t meant to get quite so attached to Osito. At first it had seemed like a way to get having a dog of my own out of my system, since Mom had never really wavered in her no-pets rule. She liked to keep the apartment spotless, and having something that shed fur and possibly—gasp!—drooled was not an idea she supported.

  I stroked the soft fur between his ears a little more. “Okay, let’s walk, and then I have to take you back to your Mami,” I told him, and set him down on the sidewalk. He trotted happily beside me.

  I mentally added a step to my mantra. Computer summer program, Bronx Science, MIT, dog, Google. Someday I’d be out on my own, and then I could finally have a dog of my own. Although I couldn’t actually imagine loving one more than I loved Osito.

  * * *

  “Hey, A!” Phoebe greeted me when I got to her locker. “You’re late today.”

  “Sorry. I had to walk Osito this morning for Mrs. R.”

  Phoebe rolled her eyes. “He should just be your dog. I mean … poor Mrs. R.”

  I gave her a half smile. “I sort of agree on both counts, although I feel bad about agreeing with the first part.” I shook my head as Phoebe got her books out of her locker. “So … speaking of bad, how would you feel about helping me come up with a lie?”

  Phoebe cocked her head to one side as we walked down the hall together. “A lie? What for?”

  “So I can dognap Osito this Saturday night.”

  Phoebe gave me a look. “Ana, if you want something to do on Saturday night, we can go to the movies or something. You don’t have to resort to stealing your neighbor’s dog.”

  I snorted. “I have plans, thank you very much. I’m invited to Calvin’s house for dinner.” Phoebe stopped walking and said “What?” so loudly that we got a pointed look from the vice principal, Mr. Rios, as he walked by.

  Phoebe put a hand on my arm. “Rewind. You’re going on a date? With Calvin?”

  “It’s not a date!” I realized I must have yelled that when we got a bunch of curious looks from the other kids in the hall. “It’s not like that,” I said in a lower voice. “I mean, it’s a playdate. For his dog, Pancake, and Osito.”

  “I don’t get it. Why would Calvin want to have his dog play with your neighbor’s dog? That’s just … weird.”

  “I agree. It would be weird. Except … Calvin thinks Osito is my dog.”

  “Why would he think that?”

  We’d reached my locker, and I opened the door and looked inside rather than at Phoebe while I confessed. “At first, when we met in the park, he just assumed. I was going to correct him, but then I accidentally waited too long, and it got to the point where it would have been weird. I was still going to tell him, but then Calvin came up to me with this whole plan because his dog has seemed depressed since moving to New York. She’s only happy when Osito’s around … and then I was like, well, dang, I was going to come clean, but isn’t it more important to help this dog—and Calvin? I mean, if Osito can make them both happier, and it would be good for Osito, too, since he’s almost always stuck up in that apartment with Mrs. R—I mean, that’s a win-win-win, right?” I finally looked up.

  “The dog’s depressed, huh?”

  I nodded. “That’s what Calvin said.”

  “New York can be a rough town,” Phoebe observed in a grave voice, but she rolled her eyes. I knew Phoebe didn’t one hundred percent get my dog obsession. In fact, I suspected that she might grow up to agree with my mother about dog hair on her furniture. “But, A,” Phoebe went on, “are you sure there’s not more to all of this than just pug charity? Like maybe you want to go to Calvin’s house?”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s not about that. I mean he’s nice, and …”

  “Cute.”

  “I did not say that!”

  “Well, you were thinking it.”

  I tried to will away my blush. “So how about it?” I asked Phoebe as I stuffed my textbooks into my backpack. “Are you too appalled by the lies I’ve already told to help me figure out a way to get Osito for a few hours on Saturday?”

  Phoebe smiled and shook her head. “Nah. I’ll help you brainstorm. I mean, at this point it wouldn’t help anybody to know O’s not really your dog, right? And it’s not like you started out planning to lie.”

  I gave Phoebe a grateful smile, then slammed my locker door shut. “Darn right. I didn’t choose the pug life. The pug life chose me.”

  “What if you said you were taking Osito to an audition to be in a commercial?” Phoebe unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. “For dog food.”

  “Okay, that’s not a bad idea,” I said. “I’m sure there are lots of commercials filmed here.”

  “Actually, I read online there are a lot more filmed in places like Atlanta or Orlando. Cheaper. But it’s still plausible.”

  “What kind of dog food?” I asked, sticking a fork into the cafeteria’s gloppy mac and cheese. Mom had forgotten to pack our lunches today because she’d been so busy nailing down some details about Talia’s quince.

  Phoebe opened her bag of chips, ate one, and then offered some to me. “I think not getting too specific is the key. More of a chance to get t
ripped up.”

  “What if Mrs. R doesn’t want him to be in a commercial? She might not,” I argued.

  “True, not everybody’s about the showbiz life. And if she says no, then you definitely won’t have a way to get him that night.” Phoebe drummed her fingers on the table. “What we need is a plan with a relatively low chance of failure. What would Mrs. R definitely say yes to?”

  “Well, she wants Osito to get out more. Have more chances for exercise and play …”

  Phoebe put down the bag of chips. “Um, not to be Captain Obvious here, but how about you just tell her the truth? That a kid in your class has a pug who met Osito at the park and they hit it off—and now you want to take him to a doggy playdate?”

  “That’s just crazy enough to work!” I said with a laugh. “Was I making things too complicated again?”

  “I think maybe. But it depends on if you think Mrs. Ramirez would be, like, weird about Osito going to somebody else’s house? Somebody she doesn’t know?”

  “I don’t know. I guess she might be. But,” I continued, my mind racing, “… she’s met you. And you only live two blocks away. What if it were you who just got a pug … ?”

  “Now you’re overcomplicating again.”

  “No, I mean, yes, I probably am, but Mrs. R has met you—and your mom that one time, remember? She’d be totally okay with me taking Osito over to your place.”

  Phoebe was shaking her head. “Oh, what a tangled web.”

  “Hey, guys, what’s up?” Calvin had appeared beside Phoebe.

  “Just doing some brainstorming with Charlotte here,” Phoebe said, giving me a look.

  “Charlotte?” Calvin looked confused.

  I knew what Phoebe meant, of course—Charlotte’s Web … of lies.

  “It’s an old nickname,” Phoebe said.

  “For Ana?”

  “Phoebe’s really weird,” I told him, and she stuck her tongue out at me before standing up.

  “So. I’m gonna go,” Phoebe said, waving. “We’ll talk later about my adoption.”

  “Was Phoebe adopted?” Calvin asked when she had gone.

  “Nope, but—remember? Weird.”

  Calvin still looked confused, but he seemed inclined to let it go. “Did you ask your parents about Saturday?”

  “I’ll ask them tonight. I was going to, but my mom has been really stressed. Gotta pick your moment, you know.”

  “I get that,” Calvin said with a grin.

  I felt a pang of guilt about lying again. But then I decided that a few little white lies were totally worth it to make two dogs—and a boy—happy.

  * * *

  I threw my books down in a jumbled pile on my desk. I wanted to change my clothes quickly and go get Osito for our walk. In coding class, Calvin had said he and Pancake would be at the dog run right after school, and last time he’d beaten me there—probably because he actually lived with his dog.

  “Whoa, what’s with you?” My sister looked up from her homework.

  “Nothing.”

  Tali shook her head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. You’re usually much nicer to the books. The books are your friends.”

  “I’m just hurrying to get Osito.”

  “What else is new? I’d step lively to avoid Mom on the way out, then. She said something about this enrichment class at the community center that she wants to sign you up for.”

  I stopped changing and flopped onto the edge of my bed. “Another enrichment class? When am I supposed to cram that in? Between school and Osito—and I still don’t have an idea for my big coding project … ugh. She just doesn’t understand.”

  “Well, then tell her that. Except maybe leave out the part about Osito. You know she thinks you spend too much time taking care of him.”

  “Yeah, time when you could be studying, Ana. Except, if I study any harder my whole brain’s going to explode. What does she want? I’ve had straight As since birth. But now, it might not even matter, since with Calvin here I might not even get the Crown Point Prize.”

  “What does Calvin have to do with the prize? Is it because he’s distracting you?”

  I threw my discarded shirt at her. “Ugh, I’m never telling you about a boy ever again. It’s not like that. It’s just … Calvin’s really smart. Phoebe and I both think that he might beat me for the first-place slot in our class.”

  “Oh no! I hadn’t thought of that when you told me he was smart. But you’re up for a little competition, sis. You’ve got this.”

  “I hope so. It’s just, lately I feel pulled in so many directions. It’s hard to focus.”

  “A good crush will do that to you.”

  “I don’t have a crush!”

  “Are you sure?”

  My cheeks burned. “Well, not entirely sure. What’s wrong with me? I always used to be sure about stuff.”

  “Nobody’s sure about everything all the time, Ana.” Tali’s phone buzzed with a text and she reached for it.

  “Oh my gosh, what time is it?” I asked, shucking off the other leg of my tights and pulling a clean pair of jeans from my drawer.

  “4:12. What’s the rush?”

  “I need to go get Osito, remember?” I started tying my sneakers as fast as I could.

  “I’m sure he’ll be okay for a couple more minutes. Oh, unless you have a certain appointment at the dog park,” she added with a wink.

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “I repeat: I am never telling you about another boy, ever again!”

  “We both know that’s not true. Okay, go. Tell Calvin and Fruitcake I said hi!”

  I spun around to pause in the doorway. “It’s Pancake.”

  “I know,” Tali said. “I just like that face you make when you think someone’s made a mistake. Your eyes bug out and your neck goes all splotchy.”

  “You’re secretly evil, aren’t you? Everyone thinks you’re the sweetest person in America, but it’s all an act, isn’t it?”

  “Mwahaha.” Tali tried for an evil laugh. “Tell no one.”

  “Right. Like anyone would believe me. Later.”

  I sprinted out of the apartment and raced upstairs to Mrs. Ramirez’s. I was relieved to find that she wasn’t home to answer my knock—it meant she’d felt well enough to go to work again today. I let myself in to find a very excited little bear.

  “Oh my gosh, I missed you, too, Osito!” I said as I knelt down to receive a very thorough face-licking. “Okay, okay, let’s get your harness on and get you to the park for some playtime! If we hurry your friend Pancake might still be there.”

  I closed his harness, hooked up his leash, and scooped him up to carry him down the stairs. I kept carrying him for a little while after we stepped out of the building, to make better time. But he gave a soft whimper, and I knew that, having been cooped up all day, he wanted to be down to walk on his own and be free to sniff. So I put him down and our pace slowed to match his short legs.

  When we got to the park, Calvin wasn’t there. I let Osito play with the other small dogs for longer than usual, but Calvin and Pancake never showed. I knew we must have missed them. Finally, I had to get home to work on my essay for Mr. Bowen. I had a fleeting thought that Calvin had probably hurried up his time in the park with Pancake for the very same reason.

  I knew I should scoop up Osito and double-time it home, but instead I followed along slowly behind the little pug. I felt deflated, or maybe like Tali’s piñata that had melted in the storm. The day I’d met Calvin …

  I stopped walking then, and picked up Osito. I started marching home as fast as I could. You are done being ridiculous over a boy, Ana Julieta Ramos. No matter how cute he … his dog is. Get it together.

  As soon as I got home, I sat down at the computer for the rest of the night and I set out to write the best darn essay that Mr. Bowen had ever seen.

  Eyes on the prize, Ramos, I kept telling myself.

  I couldn’t let this whole Calvin and Pancake thing take away my academic focus. The time for distract
ions was over.

  * * *

  The next day, in coding class, Ms. Vasquez was late. Calvin, Phoebe, and I took our usual seats and Calvin glanced at me as I started up my computer.

  “I’ve missed so much in this class—I don’t see how I can ever catch up enough to work on that big project,” Calvin said to me. It was exactly what I’d suspected was bothering him.

  “You’ll be fine,” I said. “That’s the best part about coding—you can make a site that’s less complicated—or if you have the skills you can add a lot of functionality. Ms. Vasquez knows you just started—she’ll evaluate your work based on how long you’ve been in the class.”

  Then a traitorous thought flashed through my mind that it was too bad Calvin’s coding grade wouldn’t be lower. My worry about losing the Crown Point Prize was always there in the back of my mind.

  But, despite all that, I found myself saying, “I can always help you, if you want.”

  “Thanks, Ana,” Calvin said.

  Ms. Vasquez came rushing in the door then, carrying a big box.

  “Guys, good news—thanks to the funds we raised last semester, we get our free T-shirts today,” she said.

  Last semester, a bunch of us from the class had helped Ms. Vasquez at a fund-raising event for a coding organization. Phoebe and I had stood at the booth, selling simple magnetic coding toys for young kids that we had designed in class.

  “Tell me your size and I’ll hook you up with a shirt,” Ms. Vasquez said. People started yelling out their sizes, and Ms. Vasquez kept digging around in the box, one by one.

  A loud sigh escaped me. “What?” Calvin asked.

  “It’s just she’s doing that in such an inefficient way.”

  On my other side, Phoebe giggled. “Our girl Ana likes things to be organized.”

  I shot Phoebe a look.

  “That’s cute,” Calvin said. “It’s actually bothering you.”

  And then Phoebe shot me a look, no doubt over the word cute.

  I felt my cheeks grow hotter, then tried to tell myself that I was being extremely silly. After all, Calvin hadn’t called me cute—he’d called my obsessive need for organization cute. Which wasn’t at all the same thing.