With a groan, I try to forget about her while I play fetch with my dog. After he’s all worn out and happy from the attention, I take him back and get another dog from the kennels. Besides the employees and Abby, I don’t see anyone else here for the first hour.
Where the heck is the rest of the Animal Club? It’s pointless being here if no one can see me and give me kudos. I really want to leave, go somewhere more public where people can see me and vote for me on the app. But Abby is still here, sitting under a tree in the far corner of the lot while she plays with a few dogs, and I can’t bring myself to leave if she’s still here. So long as she’s doing a good thing, so will I.
The next dog I play with just wants to sit in the sun and relax. The fur around his snout is turning gray so I’m guessing he’s an older dog. Nora brings me two younger dogs to play with while the old one is enjoying laying by himself in the grass. These two girls are part lab, and they’re only a year old so they’re full of energy.
They like chasing after a ball when I throw it but they don’t like giving the ball back to me. I don’t even know how much time has passed because I’m having way more fun than I thought I would. Maybe those Animal Club students are onto something. This place rocks.
Before I realize it, Nora is waving me inside because it’s the dogs’ dinner time. Even though only one Brazos High student was here to witness me doing volunteer work (and she won’t give me any kudos), I’m glad I came. Playing with dogs does a lot to heal stress. I feel happier than I have since before Gran died.
As I’m walking out to my car, I notice Abby sitting on the bus stop bench down the road. It’s only seven o’clock and it’s not fully dark outside yet, but I still worry about her sitting there all alone in a busy part of town. I should drive away and head home but she hasn’t noticed me yet, so I see no reason to leave. I’ll just sit here and keep an eye on her.
When the bus arrives I pull onto the road behind it since it’s heading in the same direction as my house. I could get in the next lane and zoom around the clunky old bus, but I don’t.
I don’t know, I guess I’m curious about Abby. All of my friends have cars. I kind of forgot that some people don’t. I can see why she wants to win this contest so badly.
A few stops later, Abby gets off the bus at a busy intersection. There’s no way she lives in a shopping center, and now my Spidey-senses are on high alert. Is she going to volunteer somewhere else to get even more kudos from our classmates? Ugh.
Curiosity gets the best of me and I pull into the parking lot and watch her walk toward a dance studio. I know, I know, this kind of makes me some kind of creeper, but I can’t help myself. If she’s volunteering to teach dance class or something, I can’t compete. I have no dancing skills whatsoever. She’ll win this contest much easier than I can.
I park in an inconspicuous location and watch as she walks into the studio. It’s hard to see through the studio’s windows, but I’m betting a ton of high school girls are in there and they will all be more than happy to help boost Abby’s Un-bully score.
A minute later Abby emerges from the studio with three girls trailing along beside her. They all have the same dark shade of hair, but they’re wearing sparkly dance outfits. The smallest one talks animatedly to Abby while they walk back to the bus stop. I didn’t like the idea of Abby sitting alone at the bus stop, and I really don’t like the idea of her and three much younger girls sitting there. My lips press together and my fingers grip the steering wheel. I glance in my backseat. It’s small, but there are three seat belts. And then the passenger seat makes four.
With my mind made up, I pull out of the parking spot and drive up to the bus stop, rolling my car windows down before I get there. I stop and look over, doing my best impression of someone who only just noticed she was there.
“Hey,” I say with a nod.
Abby startles. Now that I’m closer to her, I can tell these girls are probably her sisters. The family resemblance makes it obvious. “What are you doing here?” Abby asks, sounding more curious than accusing.
“Just running errands,” I say. “The bus isn’t safe. Get in.”
“Ooh! Awesome!” one of her sisters says.
Abby shoots her a glare. “No, thanks.”
“Come on,” I say, putting the Lexus in park. “My car is cleaner than the bus.”
Her sisters plead in sync, asking her to please let them ride with me. After a few seconds she stands up. “Fine,” she says, motioning for the girls to get in my car. They gleefully hop inside, crowding into the backseat.
Abby sits in the passenger seat, closes the door, and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not giving you a kudos over this.”
I grin as I shift into first gear. “I figured you’d say that.”
Seven
ABBY
I’m weirdly nervous about seeing Mark the next day at school. Him offering to take my sisters and me home last night was a really generous thing to do, especially since Mark and I are definitely not friends.
I know he probably only did it hoping I would give him kudos on the app. Jake and other guys at school who are obsessed with learning the app’s algorithm think that people who
