Pugs and Kisses Page 6

  Ack.

  “Maybe we’ll hug later,” Calvin said awkwardly, also rubbing his temple. Chelsea was pulling him away by the elbow and I could see she was trying not to laugh.

  I picked up Osito and pulled open the door to our building. Our puppy playdate had gone pretty well, I thought. Right up until the head injury, that is.

  “Anaaaaaa!!!”

  I heard my mom yelling my name as I stepped inside our apartment. It was Wednesday afternoon, and already the week seemed to be taking forever. Mom had me running all over the neighborhood, picking up this or that for Tali’s quince. I couldn’t wait until Friday, when I had no school, and the doggy egg hunt to look forward to with Osito, Calvin, and Pancake.

  I set down the stationery-store bag that was full of the place cards for the party, and glanced around the apartment. It was looking more and more like an episode of Hoarders: Party Edition. I gave a huge sigh. At least in a little more than two weeks, the madness would be over.

  “Yeah?” I called out to Mom.

  “Come back here!” Her voice was muffled.

  “Where’s here?” I asked, heading toward my parents’ bedroom. But when I stuck my head inside and called for her again, Mom’s voice came from the room I shared with Tali.

  “What is it?” I asked when I walked into the room.

  “Well, hello to you, too.” Mom poked her head out from my closet, which she’d clearly been ransacking.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, walking over to the closet and frowning at the mess Mom had made. I always liked to keep my clothes and shoes in careful order.

  “I’m trying to find your dress for the quince—why don’t I see it?”

  I flopped down onto the edge of my bed. “Um, probably because it’s mythical.”

  “What? Is that some slang term?”

  “No, I mean, you don’t see my dress because it doesn’t exist.”

  She was staring at me with her mouth open, a shocked look on her face. “No. We talked about you wearing the dress you wore to your cousin Rebeca’s wedding.”

  I started laughing, and Mom’s expression grew angry.

  “I’m sorry, but Mom—I was nine when Rebeca got married. I don’t know where that dress actually is, but it doesn’t matter, ’cause it’s definitely not gonna fit.”

  “Nine?” she echoed. “But I could swear … we talked about you wearing it …”

  I shook my head. “It must have been a conversation you planned to have.”

  “I do that sometimes, I know.” Mom sat down on the edge of Tali’s bed. “So what you’re saying is, you need a new dress?”

  I felt another bubble of laughter well up as I imagined myself wearing the tiny white dress I’d worn so long ago. I stifled the giggle. “I guess I do.”

  “Okay. I get off early on Friday. We can go shopping then.”

  “I can’t this Friday. I’m taking Osito to that egg hunt, remember? I asked you and Papi the other day.”

  Mom frowned again. “Ana, that’s the only time I have. We really need to get you that dress. I need to check it off my list.”

  I stood up, feeling the heat climb my neck like small flames. “I’m so glad that I’m just an item you have to check off your list,” I huffed. “I really want to go to the egg hunt. We have school off that day. Can’t I please do something that’s actually fun for me for once? Instead of everything always being about Tali’s party, twenty-four three-sixty-five?”

  I watched the anger that had been starting to show on Mom’s face get replaced with something else. Maybe guilt. “Okay,” she said stiffly after a moment. “What time is that event?”

  “It’s at one.”

  “Well, how about you come back here by three and we’ll still have a couple of hours to find your dress before I need to start dinner. Deal?”

  “Okay,” I said. And then it got awkward, since I kind of wanted to walk out of the room to end the conversation, but it was my room, and Mom didn’t leave.

  “I guess I’ll put these clothes back.” She looked around at the things she’d pulled down from my closet in search of the mythical dress.

  “I can do it,” I said. Mom nodded, and then she did leave.

  I put away and reorganized my clothes, then collapsed back down on my bed. My phone buzzed and I saw that Calvin had texted me another photo of a pug. This one was of a puppy pug taking a bath. I giggled out loud and then started scrolling to find one to send back to him.

  Without warning, Mom popped her head back into my room. “What about your escort?” she asked me. “Did you call Luis? You know, that friend of your cousin Tomas? I thought you called him already, but maybe I imagined that, too.”

  The phone call to Luis.

  I felt a shudder go through me at the humiliating memory. “Nope. That actually happened. I called him yesterday afternoon, remember?”

  “Oh right. Great,” Mom said, and left me alone again.

  I lay back down on my bed and groaned. There were so many rules about the quinceañera. I was trying to follow them, for Tali, even though the whole thing caused me major stress.

  For example, the quince girl had to have fourteen damas, which were sort of like bridesmaids, and each dama needed to have a chambelán: an escort. Which meant that I had to call up a boy I didn’t even know. My cousin Tomas had texted me his friend Luis’s number, and somehow I’d worked up the nerve to make the call yesterday.

  With trembling hands, I’d dialed the number and the line rang about fourteen times. I was about to hang up when a boy finally answered. Right away it was clear he was a major mumbler. I introduced myself and explained that I was Tomas’s cousin Ana. Tomas had said Luis would be expecting to hear from me.

  But all Luis said was:

  “Yeahuh.”

  I continued, explaining about Tali’s quince, and how I was a dama and needed an escort, and his reply was:

  “Yeahuh.”

  “So,” I went on, “I was hoping that since Tomas is coming as Tali’s friend Linda’s escort, you could just come along with him, and then if you ever need anybody for quince duty in the future you can totally call me—how does that sound?”

  Luis: “Guesso.”

  And that had been that. I’d thanked him and hung up, cringing at the awkwardness of it all. I’d immediately called Phoebe and told her the whole awful story.

  “Ouch,” Phoebe had said. “You sure you even want to go with this guy?”

  “It’s a giant pink party that I have to wear a fluffy dress to! I don’t want to go at all. But the guy said yes. I think. That’s good enough for me.”

  I blinked, coming out of the memories of yesterday. Then I looked down at my phone. I realized that while I’d been remembering my escort trauma, I’d been searching for a pug GIF. It probably looked to Calvin like I was typing a text this whole time. I quickly picked a pug wearing a hat with rabbit ears and sent it.

  “Just a few more weeks,” I said to myself out loud. “You can make it.”

  * * *

  On Friday, Osito and I walked to the dog park to meet Calvin and Pancake. The doggy Easter egg hunt was being held at another park a few blocks away. Thankfully, Mrs. R had bought my story about going to the egg hunt with “Phoebe’s dog.” But I’d still felt an enormous wave of guilt as she’d said good-bye to us and I walked out the door with Osito.

  When we arrived at the park, I sat on a bench with Osito on my lap, since I didn’t want him to get too tired out before the hunt.

  “Hey!” Calvin called, trotting over with Pancake. “You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

  “No, we’re just chilling. I was early.”

  “Oh, good. It took me a few minutes to convince Pancake here to come out from under my bed.” He said the last part with a frown, but then I watched him paste on his usual smile to replace it. “Ready to head out?”

  I stood up. “Yep, let’s go.”

  We walked out of the park, with Calvin in the lead. “Hey, it’s the other wa
y,” I called. “We’re heading southwest toward Seward Park.”

  Calvin shook his head. “I don’t know why I was leading the way. I barely know my way around the neighborhood. Still!”

  “You’ll get there!” I assured him. “You just moved here. You know, there are people who’ve lived in one neighborhood their whole lives and they don’t even know how to navigate the rest of the city.”

  “I definitely don’t want to be one of those people,” Calvin said. “I always want to know, just, like more about everything, you know? Like Pancake here—my aunt got her for me as a Christmas present two years ago, and then I read everything I could about pugs. My mom told me it was probably a good thing, since these guys need special care. I mean, cleaning the folds is a bear all by itself.”

  “Yeah,” I echoed, “totally.” I looked down at the little bear in my arms. I wasn’t quite sure what Calvin was talking about—and then a few seconds later I realized that he meant cleaning underneath the folds of skin on pugs’ faces. I’d never washed Osito—or any pug—before. I wondered if Mrs. R was keeping up with cleaning Osito’s face—I knew she’d been having more and more trouble with her back lately. I decided to check once I brought Osito to her place.

  We’d been walking along at Pancake’s pace, but now Calvin picked her up. “You’re probably smart to carry Osito the whole way,” he said. “It’s easy to forget how little walking they can do. Chelsea threatened to get me a stroller for walking Pancake in the city.”

  “I’ve seen little dogs in strollers around,” I said. “I have to say, I think that would be adorable.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Calvin said in a dry voice, and I laughed.

  When we reached Seward Park I looked up and saw the banner for the THIRD ANNUAL DOG EASTER EGG HUNT. We walked up to a table set up just inside the park.

  “Do you have tickets?” a woman wearing pink denim overalls asked us, and I started to say no.

  But then Calvin took out his phone, opened his email, and the woman scanned the tickets there.

  “I didn’t know you needed tickets,” I said. “How much do I owe you?”

  Calvin gave me a look I couldn’t quite figure out. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m just happy that you came with me.”

  “Oh. Of course. I mean, I’m happy, too. To be here, I mean.”

  What was wrong with me? Suddenly I was really bad at talking.

  “Okay, so here are the dogs’ numbers,” the woman said, handing us each a kerchief. “They have to wear these in the hunt. There’s a prize for the dog that finds the most eggs.”

  I looked over at a huge Labrador retriever nearby. “I don’t think our little pugs stand too much of a chance,” I whispered to Calvin.

  “Well, there’s a winner in both the small and large dog categories. But I’m thinking ours are still at a disadvantage.” Calvin pointed to a Jack Russell terrier. “Really athletic and energetic breeds like that have a serious advantage. But at least pugs have one thing going for them—they’re pretty food motivated.”

  “Why would that matter?” I asked.

  “That’s how the dogs find the eggs. They’ve got meaty snacks inside.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  Calvin laughed and bent down to put Pancake’s kerchief around her neck. I did the same with Osito, then looked around and saw that some of the dog owners had gone all out. There were dogs wearing Easter or spring-themed T-shirts, dogs with bunny ears on their heads, and some of the owners were dressed up, too. “I think we missed out on the costume part,” I said.

  “Next year,” Calvin said, which made me smile. That meant Calvin thought we’d still be hanging out next year—and maybe I’d also have my own dog by then, not a borrowed one. I felt yet another flash of guilt.

  We followed the direction everyone was moving in, and we got to the little area that had been fenced in for the small dogs. A voice called out that the hunt had begun, so we let Osito and Pancake off their leashes and watched the two of them waddle off together, noses to the ground. Osito started sniffing around some shrubs, and I bent down to look. I saw a flash of bright green on the ground, then picked up the egg.

  “Good boy!” I told Osito, and he barked.

  As I was feeding him the treat inside, there was a rustle in the bushes. A ridge of fur stood up on Pancake’s back, and in a flash she started running, following what I saw now was a squirrel. I grabbed Osito, and followed Calvin as he ran after Pancake. The area was fenced in, but there must have been a hole, because Pancake broke right through, and in another couple of seconds she was gone from our view. Calvin whirled around with a panicked expression.

  “You go that way, I’ll go this way,” I said, pointing, and Calvin nodded.

  I clasped Osito tight against me as I ran. My heart was pounding so hard it made me feel sick. I couldn’t believe Pancake had gotten away from us. It had all happened so fast.

  Just one thought echoed in my head as I ran:

  We had to find Pancake. We had to.

  I ran, calling Pancake’s name, for four or five blocks. I was starting to really panic. Calvin had gone in one direction, and I’d gone in another, but what if Pancake had gone straight ahead, or doubled back through the park somehow? Plus, running around carrying Osito wasn’t easy. He only weighed ten pounds or so, but he seemed to be getting heavier. And I could tell he was upset—he was picking up on my stress, and he’d started to whimper.

  I forced myself to stop. Then I did what I always did when I needed backup—I called my best friend and my sister. I dialed Phoebe first and then had her add Tali to the call.

  “Pancake ran away from Calvin and me,” I said without preamble. “Can either of you come help? I’m trying to carry Osito, and I don’t know how far Calvin went—we ran in different directions.”

  “Where are you?” Phoebe asked.

  “Pancake ran away at Seward Park. I ran over to Orchard Street—on the Canal Street side. I sent Calvin toward Grand Street, but I don’t know …”

  “I can bike over there,” Phoebe said. “We’ll meet back up at the park. I’m leaving now,” she said, and clicked off the call.

  “I’m close, too,” Tali said. “I’m at the noodle shop on East Broadway with Ella and Haley. Hold on and I’ll ask if either of them can come help.” I heard some muffled words and then Tali came back on the line. “They can both come,” she said. “We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

  “Thank you, thank you!” I said, and breathed a sigh of relief. I was about to call Calvin when my phone rang—it was him.

  “Ana,” he said. “I can’t find her, and I don’t even know where I am now. What am I gonna do?” It sounded a little like he might be about to cry.

  “We’ll find her,” I said. “Phoebe is coming, plus my sister and her two friends. They’ll all be here really soon. We’ll cover all the directions.”

  “But she could have gone anywhere.” His voice broke on the word anywhere, and my heart broke along with it.

  “We’ll find her,” I repeated. “Right now we just need to get you back to the park. Go into your map app and just type in Seward Park. Make sure you hit the little person icon for walking directions. Do you want me to stay on the line with you? I will, but I can probably keep watch for Pancake better if …”

  “No. I’ll call back if I have trouble with the directions. I’ll see you at the park.”

  I could hear in his voice that Calvin was doing that thing he always did, which was to put on a brave front. I hung up, stuffed the phone in my back pocket, shifted little Osito to my other arm, and then started walking, keeping my eyes peeled for a flash of light brown fur. I thought about how Calvin and I had joked about a dog stroller, but right then I really wished I had one for Osito.

  Suddenly I spotted a teenage girl holding a tan-colored dog, but when I caught up to her I felt a hot stab of disappointment. She was holding what turned out to be an oddly big Chihuahua.

  When I got back to
the park and saw the egg hunt was still going on I felt a flash of annoyance. How dare they just keep going after their crappy fencing-in job had led to Pancake getting out? I hadn’t even let myself think about what could happen to her on this crowded, sunny Friday afternoon in the city. I thought of her running into the street, alone and scared, and then …

  I closed my eyes for a second, as though it would stop the frightening images that were appearing in my mind.

  “Hey. So what did the people say?” Phoebe was standing beside me.

  I blinked in surprise. “The people … ?”

  “Running this event. You mean you didn’t ask … ?”

  At my look of confusion, Phoebe took off toward the registration table. A few moments later she was standing up on one of their chairs, holding a megaphone. “Attention. Can I get everybody’s attention, please? We have a missing dog! She’s a tan-colored pug, answers to the name of Pancake. Can everybody please stop looking for eggs right now and start looking for this missing pug instead? There’s a … fifty-dollar reward for the person who finds her.”

  I stood shaking my head as I looked up at Phoebe. “You’re a genius,” I said when she jumped down and walked back over to me. “Why didn’t I think of doing that?”

  “Because you’re upset,” Phoebe said. “It’s tough to think straight when you’re upset. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Thanks,” I said, giving my bestie a hug.

  “So, hey,” she added, “I said fifty because I figured we could probably scrape that together, but do you think Calvin would offer more? It might make people more motivated.”

  Just then Calvin appeared, out of breath and wild-eyed. “Hey,” he said to Phoebe.

  “I’ve got everyone at the egg hunt looking for Pancake,” she told him. “I offered a fifty-dollar reward; hope that’s okay? But I was just saying to Ana how we could offer more maybe …”

  “Of course!” Calvin’s face changed into an almost smile. “That’s brilliant; why didn’t we think of that? Offer a hundred—two hundred! I’ll call my dad and get him to bring …”