Zoey laughs. “I haven’t watched that movie since I was like six. So the bridge part is harder to write?”
“It can be. There are so many different ways you can go with it.” Like my whole life right now. My gender. Whatever the heck is gonna happen with Daniel. This Girls Who Rock the Future thing that I’m probably gonna be a boy for. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Can you play what you have so far?”
I pick out the chord progression on the keyboard. But I didn’t practice it enough to play it perfectly. I miss a note with my left hand, then lose the beat trying to recover. “Sorry, I’m super tired. I promise it’s better than this.”
Zoey looks disappointed. I’m saved from feeling like a total idiot by the arrival of Olivia’s and Jordan’s moms, and mine right after.
“Chug a Rockstar before practice next time,” Zoey tells me. “Punk’s all about energy. You were kinda lacking in that department tonight.”
I look down at my hands in my lap. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Zoey shrugs. “I’m not mad or whatever. I just really wanna kick butt at this Girls Who Rock thing and get into that camp. I’ve been dreaming about it for months.”
“For real,” Jordan says. “It would kick so much butt. Not to mention it would prove to my annoying brother that Black girls can totally rock some punk.”
“Totally,” I echo hollowly.
“Sweet.” Zoey gives all of us a fist bump and we leave.
I keep my headphones in all the way home so I don’t have to talk to Mom.
20
What If?
Daniel
I’m a sleepwalking mess Tuesday morning when I leave for the tent. I brought two more blankets there on last night’s late-night run, and I wrapped Chewbarka in them before I went home. But when I unzip the door this morning, I find she’s peed through her last stolen diaper and both blankets are damp. She’s sluggish, like the cold has seeped into her bones and she’s too chilled to even shiver.
I hold her for as long as I can before I have to go home, working on her mats with the borrowed brush. My warmth slowly sinks into her. She finally looks up at me and licks my arm.
It’s so hard to leave to get ready for school. It’s only going to be in the mid-forties today. She’s old and cold and must be sick to death of this stinky tent and maybe Ash is right that I should tell Bella, even though that’s the last thing I want to do because what if? What if?
But I might have to take the chance. Because freezing alone in a tent overnight with pee-soaked blankets when it’s thirty-eight degrees is a worse way to die than euthanasia.
At school, I steel myself and head for Ash’s locker. As I approach, I see someone yelling at her, a girl whose back is to me. I step up my pace.
“—found that video of you,” the girl says.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
The girl turns and faces me. I recognize her from the Insta screenshots Ash sent me. “Do you know where my dog is?” she demands. “Because this loser won’t tell me a thing.” She jerks her thumb in Ash’s direction.
I slump against the lockers. Ash told her behind my back? “No.” I can’t meet Bella’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Bella scowls and turns back to Ash. “If you don’t tell me where she is by tomorrow, I’m sharing that Gatorade video with everyone. And then maybe the same thing will happen to you here.” She takes off down the hall.
I look at Ash. Her face has gone pale. “What is she—”
“It’s nothing.” She spins her combination lock, not looking at me.
“Why’d you tell her?” I hug my stomach.
“I didn’t mean to.” She sounds like she’s going to cry. “I didn’t tell her where the dog is, I promise. Or anything else.”
“What Gatorade video? What’s that mean?”
“Nothing.” Her voice is faint. Her hands shake as she slides a book into her bag. She closes her locker and ducks across the hall into her homeroom.
All through first-period chemistry, I avoid looking at Cole and Erin, as usual. I imagine the conversation between Ash and Bella. How could she have done that when this isn’t even her problem? She’s not the one barely sleeping, getting up at five a.m., constantly hiding a lie from her mom. She hasn’t been in contact with so much dog pee it’s probably stuck to her for life.
She’s said so many times that she wants to help.
She has helped. On Friday night, and then going to Dad’s with me.
But she just straight-up told Bella. Without asking me first.
I feel stabbed in the back. Everything is even more out of my control now. All I want is for Chewbarka to be safe. And warm. And not dead.
When the bell rings, I’m too caught up in my head to notice I’m right behind Cole. Just as we’re about to go out the door, he looks back at me. I suddenly recall my bike-ride revelation about apologizing to him the right way.
I open my mouth, but then stop. I haven’t thought it out enough. I need to do it right.
He goes out the door and the moment is gone.
In English, Erin sits on the other side of the room and, like always, ignores my presence. I’m used to it now. But it still hurts. Especially when I’m already feeling stung. Betrayed. Scared that my attempt to help a dog
