I sit next to him and scrape my shoe over the concrete. The shape it makes has a satisfying texture, like granite. I want Daniel to trust me. But that means being honest with him, which means, maybe, losing this. Whatever this is. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I know what it feels like to be the reason your parents split.”
Daniel looks at me sideways. Like he wants to know but he’s too shy to ask.
I stand up. “It’s survivable. And it was nice that your dad had your photos on his wall.”
“What?”
“In the living room. You didn’t see?”
“No.” Daniel looks like his heart’s breaking. “He did?”
“Yeah, like six or seven at least. Framed.”
“Oh.” His eyes are still aimed at my face, but I don’t think he’s seeing me.
“Um . . . do you want any water before you bike home?”
He blinks, then takes a second to fold up what he feels so it’ll stop leaking out his face. “Yeah, actually. Chewy’s probably thirsty too.”
I hop up. “Sit. Stay. Good boy! I’ll get some water.” I head for our building’s door. I tuck my helmet under the steps so Mom won’t know I was out biking.
“How goes the Minecraft tournament?” she asks when I go into our apartment. She’s at the kitchen table flipping through her old Moosewood cookbook.
“Done. Just grabbing a book Griff wants to borrow.”
“Hungarian bean soup for dinner? With sausage?”
“Sound good and gassy.” I fill a water bottle at the tap, then grab a book from my room. “Be right back.” Hopefully she won’t look out the window.
Outside, I hand Daniel the water bottle. He thanks me for everything I’ve done. I ask if he’s going to talk to Bella. He puts on his helmet without answering.
“I mean . . . maybe she knows someone who could help. A friend, or someone else in her family. Like an aunt or cousin or something.”
He rubs his forehead like his dad did. “I need to think.”
I take his other hand. “Daniel . . .” My stomach dips when he looks into my eyes. “I love how much you care about Chewbarka. It’s really sweet.”
He laughs like he’s embarrassed. “It’s not convenient.”
“That doesn’t matter. I mean it matters, but . . . the fact that you’re doing so much for her . . . well.” I lean in to kiss him, angling so I don’t bump his helmet.
He turns his face at the last second and I get his cheek.
I let go of his hand and step back. “Sorry,” I mumble. My face is flaming. I must look like an overboiled hot dog.
“Don’t be. I’m just like . . . this thing with Dad and Grace . . . it’s a lot. You know?” He takes my hands again. “But I can’t imagine how much harder it would be without you.”
A rush of warmth hits me. “Well. It’s important to have somebody to talk to. I talked Griffey’s ear off while my folks were splitting. Not that yours will!” I say quickly when his face sinks. “It always seems like there’s a ton of crap we can’t control, ’cause we’re kids. But having someone who knows what’s going on in your life can help.” Aaaand there goes my mouth.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Daniel looks at his feet, then at me. “It’s hard to screw up a hug, though, right? I probably wouldn’t, the way I’d screw it up if—”
“You ain’t screwed nothin’ up.” I fling myself at him and wrap my arms around him tight, like I can squeeze all the sadness out. I hook my chin over his shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay,” I say, even though I have no idea if it will be okay, even though there’s a big honking chance it’s not gonna be okay. Whatever “okay” even looks like. A non-dead dog, for starters, and a Daniel who isn’t stressed out and exhausted.
“I hope you’re right,” he says like he’s scared I’m wrong.
After Daniel leaves, I go back upstairs. Before I enter our apartment, I tuck the book I grabbed under my shirt. This whole dog situation is turning me into a liar. I feel gross about it.
But not gross enough to come clean.
While Mom does a cross-stitch and watches Netflix, I work out more of the punk song I started writing after the Tyrannosaurus Rocks practice last night. It’s so good to think I can help them with Girls Who Rock the Future. To know they trust me after one jam session. I’m going to get this song right. It has to be simple enough that they can play it, and it definitely has to be about girl power in some way.
But not so girl power that I’ll feel wrong singing it.
It’s a weird balance. Punk is dude music to me. Even though there are tons of good girl punk bands. I just never listen to punk when I’m a girl.
I want to be part of Tyrannosaurus Rocks so bad my teeth hurt. That feeling I got when we were all playing and the sounds were lining up was just so . . . big. So good and real and right.
I want Daniel and me to feel that way with each other too.
18
Happy Fun Sunshine Time
Daniel
Back at the tent, while I’m getting Chewbarka settled and filling her dishes, my phone pings. I reach for it, hoping it’s Ash. Wanting that sense of calm I felt when she hugged me.
But it’s Fiona: I thought you were cool. WOW, WRONG.
I’m sorry, I answer. Mitch made me do it or he was gonna bust me for something.
I am NOT a bargaining chip in some STUPID FIGHT you have with your JERK brother who
