The Love Pug Page 4

  “Really?” Amy Marston, one of the eighth-grade chairs, crossed her arms and frowned.

  I tried not to frown at her. What did Amy care? She’d been elected because she was popular, but she never actually did any work.

  I raised my hand. “What do you mean when you say soon?” I asked.

  “Soon as in next Saturday,” Ms. Bates replied briskly. “It’s the only date that works with the school’s calendar.”

  My mouth dropped open. Next Saturday?

  “Ugh, no one comes when it’s a Saturday. We tried that my sixth-grade year,” Amy complained.

  “I think the bigger problem,” I declared, “is how little time we have to finish getting ready!”

  “This is going to be a bigger disaster than last year’s fall carnival,” Autumn announced.

  Now I really did frown. I’d thrown myself into planning the fall carnival. It had been my first big project on SAC, and after seeing how organized I was with some of the smaller events, Ms. Bates had let me take on a lot of responsibility in planning it.

  And everything had gone perfectly. That is, until Travis Meyer had to play his stupid prank and ruin the entire event.

  The little kids were all loving the hayride, being pulled in a cart by Rob Martin and his horse. But then Travis “freed” the horse. Travis’s dog had chased after the horse, and the two of them ended up on a rampage through the pumpkin patch, squashing most of the pumpkins, before making their way over to the ball pit, where the horse crashed into one of the plastic poles holding it up, and all the balls went everywhere. The parents of the two kids who were in the pit were screaming, and the carnival was, suddenly, over.

  Of course, it went without saying that we were not allowed to have any kind of animals at any future events.

  “We could cancel …” Ms. Bates began.

  “No!” Autumn, Marc Mancini, and I all said at the same time.

  “It’s tradition!” Amy added.

  “Plus, we ordered everything before winter break,” I said. Even though by we I actually meant I. “If we can get the bouncy house people and at least two food trucks to agree to the new date, we’ll be all set.”

  “Emma, can you take the lead on contacting the outside vendors about the new date?” Ms. Bates asked.

  At that moment, I realized that Ms. Bates sounded just like the regular Ms. Bates. Somehow, I’d been expecting her to act, well, weird after going on a date with my father.

  “Emma?” Ms. Bates said when I didn’t respond.

  “Right. I’m on it.”

  “Great—thank you!” Ms. Bates said, so enthusiastically that Autumn turned to me and raised just one side of her mouth like the smirking emoji as if to ask, What the heck?

  I tried to ignore Autumn and nodded at Ms. Bates, dutifully writing change date to next Saturday in my to-do notebook.

  “I’ll be sending out a shared doc with all the other jobs you guys need to sign up for—or find volunteers for,” Ms. Bates announced. “That’s it, gang. Have a good day.”

  I hurried to follow Autumn out of the library, pretending to be in a rush so I wouldn’t have any excuse to stay behind and talk to Ms. Bates.

  It was one thing to hear about how their date went from my dad … I did not want to hear about it at school.

  Not yet anyway.

  Besides, with the carnival now coming up fast, we all had our work cut out for us.

  * * *

  At lunchtime, Theo sat with me and Hallie. I wondered where Frankie was, but I didn’t see him anywhere in the cafeteria.

  “The carnival date has to change,” I declared as I plunked my tray down on the table.

  “Seriously?” Hallie asked, looking up from her sandwich.

  I nodded as I took the seat beside her. “Apparently it has to be next Saturday. But we still don’t have a plan set for the seventh grade’s table. You know, last year, the seventh-grade class sponsored a kissing booth. But I guess that’s pretty unsanitary.”

  “Not to mention regressive and problematic,” Theo said.

  I rolled my eyes. “In English?” Sometimes I wondered if Theo would be a professor someday like both of our dads.

  “Well, they promote old-fashioned gender stereotypes, for one,” Theo said.

  “Okay, I wasn’t really going to suggest we have a kissing booth anyway,” I argued. “I just felt like a spontaneous vocabulary lesson would be super fun.”

  Theo balled up his napkin and threw it at me.

  “Anyway,” I said, “about our carnival table … I thought about maybe face painting?”

  “I could help with that!” Hallie said excitedly. I knew she loved anything to do with art.

  “I’d let you paint my face, Hallie,” Frankie said, appearing with his tray.

  I smiled at Frankie as he sat down beside Hallie. He always seemed friendlier around Hallie.

  Then an idea struck me.

  Maybe …

  Could it be?

  Even though Cupid wasn’t here (because, of course, no dogs allowed at school) … maybe my pug and I were sort of a matchmaking team. Maybe I’d just found Hallie the perfect date for the Valentine’s Day dance. She’d already told me that she planned to go. And it was obvious that she and Frankie got along well.

  I grinned to myself. I’d just found a match for my best friend!

  “What kind of designs could you do?” Frankie was asking Hallie.

  Hallie smiled as she dug into her mac and cheese. “I do a great sugar skull design, but I guess that’s more of a fall look.”

  “Sounds cool, though,” Frankie told her.

  I took a bite of my sandwich to hide my smile. Even without Cupid’s matchmaking magic—or mine—it seemed like Hallie might be on her way to getting a date for the dance.

  “Why are you smiling like that?” Theo asked in my ear.

  “I’m not smiling.”

  “Liar,” Theo said. “Whatever it is, I’ll figure it out.”

  “Always so sure of yourself.”

  “Well, I am a full year older,” Theo said with a grin, because he knew how much I hated to be reminded. This time, I threw my napkin at him, but he just kept grinning.

  * * *

  I opened the door to my house and knelt down to greet Cupid. I gave him several kisses and scratched his soft ears. He gave me a bunch of sloppy kisses in return.

  “You ready for a walk?” I asked him, and he danced happily in reply.

  “Just wait until I tell you what happened at school today,” I added as I managed to fit his wriggly body into his halter.

  “What happened?” Ms. Bates asked me.

  I jumped about a foot in the air, and when I came back down, I saw that there was Ms. Bates standing in our foyer beside my dad, both of them smiling away like this whole thing wasn’t weird at all.

  “Hi, Emma,” my father said. “I hope you had a good day at school?”

  I nodded, unable to stop staring at Ms. Bates. Seeing her here, in my house, instead of at school, was like my two worlds crashing together.

  “Hello, Emma,” Ms. Bates said, smiling at me. “Your home is lovely; I was just telling your father. I love these old Highbury houses.”

  I tried not to frown. I knew that Ms. Bates wasn’t in love with anything about Highbury.

  “I was just about to give Abby a tour,” Dad told me. Then he turned to “Abby” and began to do just that. “As I was saying, the house was originally built in 1859, but my grandfather did quite a bit of renovation, as you can imagine.”

  Ms. Bates (I could not think of her as Abby—too, too weird) followed Dad upstairs as he pointed out the carvings on the wooden banister.

  Cupid put a paw on my foot to remind me of what we’d been about to do—well, what he needed to do outside—before we’d been interrupted by our surprise visitor. I pushed open the door, and he sprinted ahead of me toward the grass.

  As Cupid sniffed around, I imagined Dad and Ms. Bates having a wedding right out there in our back
yard. What would that be like?

  I supposed I could order flowers from Lilybelle—daisies would be nice for a summer wedding, and they would suit Ms. Bates. My dress could be a light yellow. Not everyone can pull off yellow, but it looks pretty good on me.

  It wouldn’t be a sit-down dinner—instead we’d have delicious appetizer-size bites from one of the good restaurants downtown. And maybe petits fours instead of cake, since Dad wasn’t a big fan of sweets anyway …

  Cupid had finally finished sniffing the entire yard (which means I’d been standing there quite a while) and was sitting at my feet, staring up at me. I realized I’d just planned my dad’s entire wedding in my head.

  Which was weird too. Did I want Dad to get married to Ms. Bates? Or did I just like planning things too much?

  “I’m being silly,” I told Cupid, scratching behind his ears. “It’s just one date. Well, now two, I guess.”

  I led Cupid back inside, wondering if Dad was still giving the grand tour of our house.

  I was hanging up Cupid’s halter in the foyer when Dad coughed behind me.

  “Emma,” he said when I turned around. “Abby’s using the bathroom right now, but she and I were planning to head to Francesco’s for some dinner. Would you like to come along?”

  “Sure …” I heard myself saying, before realizing that maybe I should have offered to stay home and eat leftovers so the two of them could have a real date. “I mean, actually, I have a project for history due tomorrow. I need to hop online with my partner, um, Autumn … Maybe I could order a pizza so I could work on it?”

  “Of course, if you need to work.” Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out way too much money for one pizza. “You should invite Autumn over to work with you. We could pick her up before dinner.”

  “No! I mean, you don’t need to do that. I think she has to be home for some kind of … family birthday.” Man, once I’d started lying it just kept coming. I couldn’t remember lying to my dad before.

  “Oh. Okay, honey. But definitely order some food. Order whatever you like. We’ll just be a couple of hours. Text me if you need me, okay?”

  “Okay!” I said, my voice coming out a bit too brightly. Ms. Bates walked into the foyer, and I waved to her and Dad as they put on their coats and headed out the door.

  Then I sat down on the last stair, feeling a bit lost. Cupid came and sat right beside me, my faithful little friend. At that moment, I was even more glad than usual to have him. It seemed like it would have been kind of terrible to be alone.

  A few minutes later, I heard a soft knock at the door. I got up and peered through the peephole to see Theo standing there wearing a hoodie, his holey old basketball shorts, and the ugly black slippers I always made fun of.

  “Hey,” he said when I opened the door.

  “What’s up?” I asked him.

  “Well, I was on the porch talking to my dad, and we saw your dad walk by with Ms. Bates. I just thought maybe you could use some company? I mean, I can only guess that this must be … weird.”

  “That’s the word all right,” I said. “So can you bail on dinner with your parents?” I held up the pile of bills Dad had left. “I have pizza money.”

  “Done!” Theo said, vaulting over the back of the sofa and grabbing his phone to text his parents.

  Even though Cupid was wonderful company, he couldn’t have a whole conversation with me. I was glad Theo was here. I smiled and picked up my own phone to place the order. I didn’t have to ask what Theo wanted on his pizza. That’s the best part about old friends, I thought. Most of the time, you don’t even have to ask.

  “Thank you so much! We’ll see you on Saturday.”

  I hung up the phone at Ms. Bates’s desk with a satisfied smile. Freddy’s Fries was the last food truck we needed to have a complete carnival experience. I’d also lined up a bounce house for the littles, and a few other places to serve snacks and drinks. Luckily, I knew I could always count on Shana and Stella at Morning Mugs to show up, even at the last minute, with a table full of homemade goodness. It was Highbury magic in action, and I loved it.

  Ms. Bates walked back into the library. “My meeting’s finally over. So, how did you make out?” she asked me.

  “Good. We’re all set.”

  “Great!” Ms. Bates answered with a smile, and I was struck by how pretty she looked. Her hair, which she usually wore back in a boring, low ponytail, was down, and she’d added some waves to it. And she was wearing a little eye makeup, which she never used to do. Not that a person should have to wear makeup, I reflected. But Ms. Bates did look nice.

  It seemed like there could only be one reason that she was looking different these days. But I didn’t want to think about that too much right now.

  “Well, my lunch period’s starting, and I’m starving,” I told her. “I’ll email you all the vendor info.”

  “Thanks, Emma. You’re the best.”

  “No problem,” I told her. I stood up from her desk and headed out of the library.

  I stopped off at my locker to pick up my lunch—half a leftover sandwich from The Elephant, stored carefully with a small ice pack. But when I got to the cafeteria and reached our usual table, I nearly lost my appetite.

  Ugh. Hallie was sitting with Travis Meyer. And laughing loudly at something he’d just said.

  With a frown that I couldn’t have wiped off my face for a million dollars, I sat down beside her.

  Hallie turned to me, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, hey, Emma—you know Travis, yeah? And Travis, you know Emma?”

  Travis was in eighth grade, like Theo. But I certainly knew him. As the carnival ruiner. I nodded at her.

  “Everyone knows Emma,” Travis said with a smirk. “You’re the one who plans everything around here.”

  “I don’t plan everything,” I said defensively. “But I did plan the fall carnival,” I added pointedly, remembering the disaster Travis had brought about.

  The smirk disappeared from Travis’s face. “Look, Emma, I’ve been meaning to tell you, for a long time actually …”

  He paused, and I decided to cut him off. What explanation—or apology—could he possibly give for ruining my event last year? I didn’t even want to hear his pathetic attempt at either one.

  “Just forget it,” I said to Travis.

  His face fell. “Okay. Well, I’ll get out of here. Hallie, see you later.”

  As soon as Travis was gone, Hallie turned to me with a glare.

  “What’d you have to do that for?” she whispered.

  My jaw dropped. “How can you even ask me that? You know what happened at the fall carnival! You were with me and Ms. Bates when that dad at the ball pit screamed at us! And it was all Travis’s fault.”

  “It sounded like he was about to explain …”

  “How could he possibly explain, Hallie?” I burst out. “What could he say?”

  “I don’t know, but you didn’t even give him the chance.”

  “What were you talking about with him anyway?” I asked as I unwrapped my sandwich.

  “He’s my partner in art class this term. We’re doing a huge project together. So it would’ve been really nice if you’d given him a chance.” Hallie spoke quietly without meeting my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Hallie. If it were anybody else. But I just … can’t. Not with Travis.”

  Hallie balled up the remains of her sandwich and shoved it into her lunch bag. She didn’t say anything else. We sat there in uncomfortable silence until I’d finished eating my sandwich in record time.

  After the lunch bell, Hallie walked with me toward our lockers.

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked, turning to her as I opened my locker.

  “Of course not,” Hallie said. But the way she slammed her locker door seemed like maybe she actually was.

  * * *

  The next day, Hallie seemed to be acting more normally around me, and I was glad, but not really surprised. I couldn’t imagine Hallie letting someone like Tr
avis Meyer come between us. Not when she and I had been best friends since fourth grade.

  I’d been worried for a minute that maybe Travis liked Hallie … and what if he asked her to the Valentine’s dance? And, worse, what if she actually said yes?

  It seemed clear that I’d need to step up my efforts to get Frankie locked in as Hallie’s date in time for the dance.

  I remembered how Frankie had said that he’d let Hallie paint his face at the carnival. Maybe the carnival would be a good place to start. What if Frankie was in charge of a booth that was right beside Hallie’s face-painting booth?

  As I walked into the cafeteria, I saw that Hallie had beaten me to our table again, only this time, luckily, there was no Travis in sight.

  “I forgot my lunch, and it’s stew day,” Hallie said when I sat down. She let a huge blob of stew plop from her fork to the bowl beneath.

  “You can have half my sandwich,” I said right away, unwrapping my lunch and grabbing the knife from her tray to cut the turkey and avocado with sprouts in half.

  “Thanks,” Hallie said, her voice brightening as she pushed her lunch tray away.

  “So for the face painting,” I said, “what else do you need besides the paint you sent me the link for?”

  “Nothing,” Hallie said around a mouthful of sandwich. “I mean, just brushes and a few jars for the water, but I can get those from the art room.” She thought as she chewed. “And maybe I’ll make a poster with some sample designs. The last time I painted little kids’ faces they had a hard time making a choice. I ended up giving almost everyone a star or a flower.”

  “Stars and flowers are nice.”

  “Yeah, but they’re not exactly a challenge for my artistic talents.” She grinned. “Hey, speaking of which, I finished that pair of earrings I was telling you about. I realized when I was done that they were for you.” She unzipped the front pocket of her backpack, pulled out something small, and handed it across the table to me.

  “You’re so sweet! Thanks, Halls,” I said. I unfolded the aluminum foil packet and saw a pair of large earrings, with red crystal beads arranged like two tiny chandeliers. They were cute, but not at all my style. I couldn’t ever imagine actually wearing them, but I told her, “They’re really pretty!”