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- Herausgeber: Firefly Press Ltd
- Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
- Sprache: Englisch
Best friends Luna and Zoey can't stop talking about boys and kissing, but Noah just wants everything to go back to the way it was. To fit in, Noah pretends that she likes Archie, a boy from school, even though she's not quite sure. When new girl Jessa joins their group things get even more confusing. Can Noah admit to herself who she really likes, not who she thinks she should?
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Noah Frye Gets Crushed
Maggie Horne
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For Gabi, my forever crush.
Contents
1. Things I Missed About Home
1. My bed 2. The dogs 3. Luna and Zoey
It takes twenty-seven minutes on the Saturday I get home from camp to realise that something’s different.
It goes like this:
I get home at 10:22. From 10:22 until 10:32, I’m settling in. I throw the duffel bag that smells like lake and unwashed laundry into one corner of my room and collapse onto my sweet, sweet bed. My bed that doesn’t smell like all the other girls who have slept on it over the years. My bed that doesn’t have one weird spring that pokes me in the middle of the night. My bed that’s in my own room, away from the sound of ten other people snoring. My beautiful, perfect bed.
I’m getting off-topic, but my camp bed was truly awful.
10:33 until 10:37: the doorbell rings and I launch 2up. When we got our phones back at the end of camp, Luna had already texted me to say she was going to run to my house the second she saw my sister drive down our street.
Luna pounds up the stairs and bolts into my room, leaping into my arms. The problem is, she’s been, like, a foot taller than me for the last year and she keeps forgetting about it. She knocks both of us over and two of the pugs spring into action to try and rescue us. Unfortunately, ‘rescuing’ to Liza and Minnelli means a lot of snuffling and face licking.
‘Hi,’ I say, once I’ve crawled out from under the combined chaos of Luna’s weirdly long limbs and the dogs.
10:38 until 10:42: Luna and I sit on my bed and I tell her all about camp.
‘It was seriously incredible,’ I say. ‘We need to figure out how to get you out there next summer. I know Zoey’s gonna be doing her theatre thing, but—’
‘Ooh, Zoey!’ Luna lights up before I even have time to tell her about the best part of camp. ‘I texted her when I saw your mom’s car. She said she was just getting back, but she’d be here as soon as she could.’
10:43 until 10:47:
‘I’m sorry you were stuck here all summer,’ I tell Luna. ‘Did you manage to have any fun between, 3y’know, crying endlessly about the fact that your very best friend had abandoned you?’
‘Yeah, it was tough not having Zoey here,’ Luna says, and I stuff a pillow over her face until she grabs me.
Luna shoves me over and we both laugh. ‘But seriously,’ she says. ‘It wasn’t so bad here. In fact…’
‘I have news.’
Luna and I jump up from the bed and rush over to hug Zoey. Thankfully, Luna remembers her height and, instead of jumping at Zoey, she picks her up and swings her around instead. With all three of us back in one big clump, everything feels right again. I made friends at camp who I love, but nothing beats the smell of Zoey’s coconut shampoo and the softness of Luna’s favourite shirt. I don’t fit anywhere the way I fit into us.
Zoey usually has stories to tell us. She’s what our moms call dramaticand what we call fun. My sister once told me that she’s pretty sure Zoey’s going to get us on the news one day, but she isn’t sure yet if it’ll be for a good reason.
‘You have your audience,’ I say, and Zoey just nods like yeah, obviously.
‘So,’ she says. ‘Theatre camp.’
‘Theatre camp,’ Luna agrees.
‘We did 13:TheMusical,’ Zoey says, and I think 4Luna and I are supposed to know what that is, but we both just look at each other and shrug. Zoey doesn’t even notice. When she gets into a story, there’s pretty much no stopping her.
‘I got to be Lucy.’
I think that’s supposed to mean something. I look at Luna, but she’s no help. She’s looking at me with the same expression.
‘Congratulations?’ I try.
‘No!’ Zoey says. ‘Well, yes. Thank you, Noah. It was awesome, obviously. But don’t you get what that means?’
‘I really want to say yes,’ Luna says. ‘But that would be a lie.’
Zoey rolls her eyes at us. ‘Lucy’s the mean girl in the show. She tries to steal a girl’s boyfriend. Which means she kissesa girl’s boyfriend.’
10:48: Minute 27.
Luna gets it before I do.
‘Oh my god,’ she says. Zoey grins hugely and nods, and Luna repeats herself. ‘Oh my god!’
The two of them hug, twirling each other around. It isn’t until their second rotation that I actually realise what Zoey just said.
‘Wait, so you kissed a guy?’ I ask.
Zoey laughs. ‘I kissed literally the cutest guy in the whole camp every day for two weeks.’ 5
‘Oh my god,’ Luna says, yet again. I prickle, just a bit. Can’t she say anything else?
But then she doessay something else.
‘We’ll have to compare notes.’
‘What do you mean compare notes?’ Zoey demands. She drags Luna back to my bed and the two of them flop down on either side of me. I grin along with both of them, but there’s a sinking feeling in my stomach I can’t ignore.
‘So y’know Blake?’ Luna asks.
Do I knowBlake? Blake who lives across the street? Blake who’s hung out with us since we were all little kids? Blake who ate too much ice-cream cake at my last birthday party and threw up in a kiddie pool? Blake?
‘Blake?’ I ask in shock. Maybe it’s a little rude, but, like … Blake?
‘Hey!’ Luna laughs. ‘While you two were off having your best summers ever, I got bored. Blake asked if I wanted to help him out stuffing fliers for his paper route one night. We were alone in his garage, and … yup.’
I know that and…yupmeans that they kissed, but there’s some part of my brain that can’t fathom it. The last time we talked this much about kissing boys, it was because we were watching reality TV in Zoey’s basement and this couple was making out so sloppily we couldn’t stop laughing at them. This feels weirdly 6similar. I’m sure Zoey and Luna weren’t that slobbery and weird when they had their first kisses, but it still feels off. Just a little bit wrong.
But I can’t exactly tell them that.
‘What do you mean yup?’ Zoey reaches over me to smack Luna on the arm. ‘I’m going to need a heck of a lot more detail than yup. Are you guys still talking?’
Are Luna and Blake still talking? They were giving each other piggyback rides when I left for camp. I should hope they’ve exchanged a word or two since then.
Out of the three of us, Luna’s the shy one. I always figured that, in terms of order of first kisses, it would be Zoey, me, then Luna.
I guess I missed the memo.
Luna nods. ‘Like, all the time. The other day he showed me a bunch of new clothes he got for school, and I said I liked this jacket he got, and he was like you canwear it ifyou asknicely.’
‘Oh my god,’ Zoey says, yet again.
I guess that means something and, logically, I guess that means something good, but I don’t really see the connection. In fact, it kind of grosses me out that Blake thinks it’s cute to talk to Luna like she’s a little kid like that. What does he mean, ifyouasknicely? Ew.
‘Y’know, at camp, I met—’ 7
‘What are you going to do?’ Zoey asks, like Luna’s performing open-heart surgery. I don’t think she even realises that she just cut me off, but that doesn’t make it less annoying.
‘What is there todo?’ I ask, trying to elbow back into the conversation. I laugh, but it just comes out awkwardly. I never feel awkward around Luna and Zoey.
Zoey looks at me as if I’d just asked whether she wanted to bungee jump off my roof.
‘You’re kidding, right?’ she asks. When I don’t say anything, she rolls her eyes at me. It’s fond, like I’m a cute little kid. I think I would have preferred it if she’d just been outright mean. ‘There’s so much to discuss with this! Lu, are you gonna wear his coat?’
‘Not right away,’ Luna says. She doesn’t miss a beat and I peer at her to try and see what’s changed about her that hasn’t changed about me. ‘I think maybe I’ll wait until school starts. Like, maybe during lunch at some point?’
‘Just don’t wait too long,’ Zoey says. ‘You don’t want him to lose interest.’
‘Hey!’ Luna laughs. ‘Who says I’m so easy to get over?’
‘That’s the attitude I like to see!’
‘Guess what?’ I ask, trying to raise my voice enough to be heard over the two of them. 8
‘What?’ Luna asks, smiling at me like she’s just remembered that I’m in the room.
Zoey gasps. ‘Don’t tell me we went three for three this summer!’
I don’t really know what happens. When I look back later, I study this exact moment over and over again, trying to figure out what I was thinking.
I think it’s this: Zoey looks so excited. Luna looks soexcited. Both of them are finally paying attention to me like I’ve been trying to get them to since they came into my room. Sure, they didn’t seem to care about my actual news, but it feels so good to be back here with them, finally waiting to hear what I have to say, that the next thing just kind of … slips out.
‘Not yet,’ I say. I don’t know where it comes from but suddenly my voice sounds just like theirs. That weird, teasing, Ihaveaveryimportantandgrown-upsecretvoice.
Zoey lets out a feral screech and launches herself at me, grabbing me by the shoulders.
‘Noah, who?’ she demands. ‘One of those science camp nerds actually had the guts to kiss you?’
Okay, a few reasons why I don’t like that:
What would be the problem with a science camp nerd? I’ma science camp nerd. 9
Who says this non-existent science camp nerd had to have kissed me? I could have kissed him.I don’t need to be waiting around for some science camp nerd.
It wasn’t even technically a science camp, okay? We did a ton of stuff.
‘No,’ I say, digging myself even further into this hole. Zoey might be onto something with her theatre stuff; something about having everyone’s eyes on you makes you want to keep it up as long as possible. ‘I’ve just been talking to someone.’
‘Someone we know?’ Luna asks.
‘Maybe,’ I say.
Alright, so there goes that. Thanks, me. Really helpful.
Luna and Zoey both scream again, demanding I tell them who it is.
‘It’s not Blake, is it?’ Luna asks.
I try to make my face seem neutral, even though the idea of kissing Blake kind of makes me want to gag.
‘Definitely not,’ I say, and Luna looks instantly relieved.
‘Are you going to tell us who?’ Zoey asks.
Crap. I hadn’t thought this through.
‘I’ll tell you if I have any news to share,’ I say, hoping that makes me sound cool and aloof and not way in over my head, the way I actually am. 10
Thankfully, the temptation to keep talking about their realfirst kisses is too powerful for Luna and Zoey to resist, so they get right back into their boy talk. I hear way more than I ever needed to know about Blake and the Cutest Guy at Zoey’s Theatre Camp (honestly, I don’t think I even catch his name). It’s not that they’re ignoring me on purpose. I get that. But that doesn’t really make it feel any better when I start talking and the two of them start laughing at something else.
‘Ugh,’ Luna says eventually, looking down at her phone. ‘My mom wants me home.’
‘Boo,’ Zoey says. I try to make my face look like hers but, in reality, I feel a little lighter at the idea of being left alone. That’s reallynot how I normally feel around Luna and Zoey, but I can also usually keep up a conversation with them, too.
‘I’ll walk with you,’ Zoey says, and she and Luna hug me goodbye. I hug them both limply back.
‘We’re gonnafigure out who it is, by the way,’ Luna tells me just before she leaves.
‘You can’t hide your secretloveforever,’ Zoey adds.
‘Good luck,’ I say, and I close my door just a little too firmly behind them. (They know their way around my house almost better than they know their own houses; I’m sure they can make it to the front 11door okay.) Once they’re gone, I let out a big breath and lean my forehead against my door.
I usually never want to be alone when Zoey and Luna are around. My house is full of noise, one hundred per cent of the time. The dogs running around, little nails scraping against our wood floors. My sister is usually playing music too loudly, or else she’s with her boyfriend, laughing like she’s going to pee her pants. When my parents are home, downstairs is all dad rock and sawdust and the rustic wood tables my mom makes. It can be hard to find a place that just feels like mine. I love hiding out alone in my room with all that chaos going on out there, but Zoey and Luna make me feel calm the same way putting on headphones while my mom’s using a chainsaw in the backyard does.
Today, though, I stand in the middle of my empty room for a second. I look around, sizing it up like some kind of natural disaster just occurred.
‘Why did I dothat?’ I ask no one in particular.
The only response is a little pug sneeze from outside my door.
2. Best Ice-Cream Toppings
1. Cookie dough 2. Browniepieces 3. Youroldersisterbuttingoutofyourlife
Nothing ever stays quiet for very long in my house.
I’ve just decided to start unpacking after Zoey and Luna go home (and by unpacking, I mean taking everything out of my suitcase and shoving it all into my laundry basket) when I hear Brighton’s voice outside my door. That’s pretty normal – our walls are thin and Brighton is loud – but she sounds particularly grumpy.
‘Simon! Simon, no. Stop, Simon. Drop it. Drop it, Simon. Simon! Chicken? Do you want chicken? I’ll give you chicken if you drop it, Simon!’
I open the door to find my sister staring down one of the pugs, who has Brighton’s sock in his mouth. It doesn’t take me very long to figure out the problem. 13
‘That’s Garfunkel,’ I tell her. ‘And he’s allergic to poultry.’
Simon only has one eye, and his brother, Garfunkel, also only has one eye, but Simon has the right and Garfunkel has the left. The dog in front of us only has a left eye. Therefore: Garfunkel.
Brighton narrows just one eye, like she’s trying very hard not to snap at me.
‘What kind of dog is allergic to chicken?’
I point down at Garfunkel. ‘Garfunkel.’
Both of my sister’s eyes narrow at me this time.
I raise my hands in front of my chest. ‘Don’t shoot the messenger. Plus, he knows you aren’t good for it. You can’t just bribe him with treats to get him to behave. That’s not sustainable.’
‘Okay, Dr Dolittle,’ Brighton says. ‘You get him to drop it then.’
Sometimes when Brighton calls me that, she means it in a good way, like mylittlesisterisananimalgenius who’s gonna be the world’s greatest vet. I don’t think this is one of those times.
‘Drop it, Garf,’ I say. I try to give him my sternest look, and eventually he gives Brighton her sock back. I think I see him roll his remaining eye at me before he trots off.
We have six pugs. Normally, when I tell people that, 14I have to quickly add butwe’renormal,Iswear. Basically, when my parents first met, they each had an elderly, disabled pug. My mom’s was named Freddie, like Freddie Mercury, and my dad’s was named Bowie, like David Bowie. Both pugs were missing a leg. Soon after, my parents realised they loved rescuing disaster pugs, naming pugs after twentieth-century icons, and each other.
‘Anyway,’ Brighton says, glaring down the hall at Garf’s curly tail, ‘post-camp catch-up mall date? I can help you find something cool to wear for the first day of seventh grade.’
I look down at myself. I haven’t changed out of my camp clothes, but I don’t see much wrong with my tie-dyed shirt and bike shorts. Besides, we both know I don’t have something-cool-for-the-first-day-of-seventh-grade money.
‘My clothes are already cool.’
Brighton considers this. ‘I don’t agree, but I respect the confidence.’
I stick my tongue out at her and she does the same. We’re frozen in that stand-off for a while before Brighton finally breaks.
‘Fine,’ she laughs. ‘Come to the mall with me and I’ll buy you ice cream.’
I open my mouth to ask a question, but Brighton holds up a finger in front of my face. 15
‘Yes,you have to change before we go.’
Hmph.
‘So,’ Brighton says an hour later around a mouthful of pineapple-strawberry swirl. She swallows, then continues, ‘Best summer ever? Friends for life? Etcetera,etcetera?’
‘Pretty much.’ I shrug. ‘I actually—’
Brighton doesn’t let me finish the same way Zoey and Luna hadn’t. That’s starting to get old.
‘Speaking of friends for life,’ Brighton says, ‘did I hear Zoey and Luna talking about kissingboysearlier?’
‘What, were you standing with your ear pressed to the door?’ I ask, a little sourly. If I’d known this was all Brighton wanted to talk about, I would have negotiated for lunch, too.
Oh god, and what if she heard my lie? The last thing I need is for Brighton to be constantly bugging me about some guy who doesn’t even exist. I think she’s been waiting for me to discoverboysfor, like, five years. She probably thinks this is her last chance, since she’s going to be a senior this year.
Brighton rolls her eyes. ‘We share a wall, in case your magical camp experience made you forget the 16layout of your own home. And anyway, Zoey isn’t exactly a quiet kid. I hear everything she says whether I want to or not.’
I stir more cookie crumbs into my chocolate ice cream. Suddenly, I don’t really want to look at Brighton.
She always says that we have a Sister Bond that means no one rats each other out, but I can never be one hundred per cent sure. It would be horrible to have to sit through a conversation with my parents about boys, but it would be even more embarrassing to have to admit that there’s nothing to talk about during that conversation.
‘How’s Marcus?’ I ask, half to change the subject and half because I actually like my sister’s boyfriend. They’ve been together for almost an entire year, which is way longer than the other two boyfriends she’s had. I think she thinks that they’ll be together forever if they can make it past a year. Maybe they will. Clearly, I’m no expert.
Predictably, Brighton’s eyes light up when I say his name. She makes it too easy sometimes. But before Brighton can launch into a twenty-minute lovesick rant about how perfect Marcus is and all the dream dates they had when I was away at camp, I hear my name being called from behind me. 17
‘Noah?’
I turn around and find myself grinning almost as widely as Brighton was a minute ago.
‘Jessa!’ I exclaim, and then feel silly. She knows her own name, I don’t need to go and scream it in the middle of the food court.
‘Brighton,’ Brighton provides helpfully. She smiles at Jessa and waves, then looks at me, waiting to be introduced.
Brighton isn’t used to not knowing people. We look almost the same, except Brighton A) got my mom’s bright, impossibly green eyes (and the cool name from the city our grandma was born in) instead of our dad’s brown eyes like me, B) has swishy, perfect, copper hair whereas our aunt Jennifer once called my hair dishwaterblonde,which, thanks, and C) Brighton already did the whole puberty thing. From what I’ve gathered, high school is going very well for her. She’s probably more surprised that Jessa doesn’t know who sheis.
‘This is my friend Jessa from camp,’ I explain to Brighton now, gesturing at Jessa.
‘And as of Tuesday, friend from school,’ Jessa continues.
There’s my too-big grin again. I’ve been trying to tell everyone I’ve spoken to since I got home 18about Jessa, but no one’s seemed to have the time. If you ask me, the fact that we’re going to have a new kid andthe fact that the new kid is Jessa, who is thebestand already my friend, is way bigger news than Zoey kissing some guy at theatre camp. I mean, at a minimum, it’s bigger news than Luna kissing Blake.
(Blake. I still can’t believe that.)
Jessa and I met on the first day of camp when she helped me find my cabin – she’d been going to camp for a couple of years and knew the place upside down and inside out. We hung out every single day and one night I asked if she was excited to go home.
‘Not really,’ she had said. ‘I used to live nearby, but just before camp started, my family moved, like, four hours away for my mom’s job.’
The whole summer had been amazing, but that was the most perfect moment of the entire thing. Fourhoursaway,I’d thought. Ilivefourhoursaway.
It didn’t take Jessa and me very long to figure out that Jessa’s new town was my town, and that Jessa’s new school was my school. I’d been so excited to tell Luna and Zoey today – my camp best friend and my real-life best friends could all meet and become one super-mega best friend. The dream.
Brighton claps excitedly, snapping me out of my 19fantasy in which Luna, Zoey, Jessa and I travel the world together and none of us kiss any boys.
‘That’s so fun!’ she says. She’s so excited that Jessa takes a step back, and I blush a little. Brighton can be kind of intense if you don’t know to expect it. She claims it’s the result of always having to yell to be heard over the sound of six pugs breathing all at once.
‘Why didn’t you tellme?’ Brighton asks me now. She gestures at me with her spoon, which launches little strawberry ice cream flecks across the table and onto my top, but it’s black so I don’t care too much.
‘I’ve been trying!’ I exclaim. When Brighton picked me up from camp, she was too full of stories about everything I’d missed here for me to even get a word in. She had to update me on every vet appointment, every cool house Mom took her to, every little thing Marcus had said to her.
Actually, it was mostly about Marcus. I guess no one wants to hear about me having a new friend when there are boys to discuss.
‘Well, welcome to Middletown,’ Brighton says to Jessa. ‘We have … uh, not much. But you probably guessed that when you had to drive forty-five minutes to get to the mall.’
‘We might be getting a movie theatre soon,’ I argue. 20I don’t need Brighton telling Jessa that Middletown sucks right away! She can figure it out in her own time.
‘I checked that out while you were away,’ Brighton says, pointing her spoon at me. ‘Just a rumour.’
Ugh.
‘It’s not that bad!’ Jessa says. ‘I mean, my mom … oh, there’s my aunt.’
A tall blond woman waves at us from where she’s standing on the edge of the food court, and Jessa waves back. If Jessa hadn’t said she was her aunt, I would have known it. They have the same ski-slope nose and bright blue eyes, but Jessa’s blonde hair is a few shades lighter. I haven’t seen either of Jessa’s parents yet, but it’s clear the genetics are strong somewhere.
Before I can tell her not to, Brighton’s waving her over. Jessa’s aunt smiles, looking a bit surprised, and makes her way over to our table.
‘Hi Noah!’ Jessa’s aunt says. I blush a little. I already know that Jessa and her aunt are close, and that she lives in Middletown too. She came to pick Jessa up from camp, and I’d met her for half a second, but I didn’t think I was memorable enough for her to recognise me. Maybe Jessa’s been just as excited to tell people about me as I’ve been to tell people about her.
‘Is this your mom?’ Jessa’s aunt asks, eyeing Brighton uncertainly. 21
I try to hide my laugh, but it doesn’t go very well. Brighton gets confused for my mom allthetimeand it drives her crazy. She always waves her hand in the air and is like, Yeah,definitely,IhadyouwhenIwasfouryearsold.It’sbeenhardbeingtheworld’syoungestmother!
‘Big sister,’ Brighton says. She’s still trying to make a good impression, thank god, so at least she also smiles.
‘That makes more sense,’ Jessa’s aunt laughs warmly. ‘I was going to say, if you’re Noah’s mom I need to ask you about your skincare routine!’
I cross my fingers under the table that Jessa’s aunt doesn’t actually ask Brighton about her skincare routine. We’d be here all day.
‘We can drive Jessa home, if you guys want to hang out,’ Brighton says, half to me and half to Jessa’s aunt. My stomach flips, I’m so excited at that idea. But Jessa’s aunt grimaces.
‘Any other day I’d say yes,’ she says. ‘But we’re operating on a strict deal today.’
‘I was allowed to go to the mall for a first-day-of-school outfit if I spent the rest of the day unpacking my room,’ Jessa explains.
‘From what your mom’s told me, the stuff you brought home from camp aloneis going to take ages to put away,’ her aunt jokes.
I grin before I can help it. Half of that stuff is stuff 22Jessa and I made together, bracelets and painted rocks and stuff that shouldn’t matter, but does to us. I’m glad she brought home as much of it as I did.
‘Next time,’ Jessa promises, and I grin. ‘I’ll see you on Tuesday, Noah! I’ll text you what I’m wearing so you can tell me if I’m gonna look like a clown.’
I sincerely doubt anyone is going to think Jessa looks like a clown, but I laugh and nod all the same.
I watch Jessa and her aunt leave, carrying their bags and laughing with each other, and then something starts to feel wrong. Jessa’s going to go to school tomorrow in new clothes that are almost definitely going to be cooler than anything I own. I bite my bottom lip for a second.
‘So, like…’ I say to Brighton. ‘I don’t have something-cool-to-wear-for-the-first-day-of-seventh-grade money. But maybe I could borrow something you don’t want to wear anymore?’
Brighton’s entire face lights up. ‘I have somanyideas.’
3. The Best Smells in an Animal Shelter
1. Puppy breath 2. Thelavenderdisinfectantwecleanthecatcageswith 3. Fancydogfood(don’tjudgeme)
Sunday mornings are sacred.
On Sunday mornings, I don’t care about Zoey’s camp boyfriend or Luna having a kind of Summer of Love with Blake or the fact that I might have implied that I’ve been having some kind of long-distance affair with some guy all summer. I don’t have to think about the fact that Marcus is coming over tonight, which means I’ll have to watch Brighton get all flirty and embarrassing over her boyfriend.
There’s a lot of giggling. I’m not a fan.
I don’t need to worry about anything except for my routine on Sunday mornings. On Sunday mornings, I’m in control of my own destiny.
At least until it gets too cold and I need my parents or Brighton to drive me places, anyway. And, sure, 24that happens pretty quickly when you live in Canada, but still. Between the months of May and September, I’m in control of my own destiny.
The next day, my first full day home from camp, I wake up waybefore anyone else and put on my current favourite outfit (bike shorts and camp top, and I don’t care what you think about it, Brighton). I creep downstairs and eat a bagel without toasting it. My mom calls me an animal when she sees me doing that normally, but my mom is asleep and it’s Sunday morning, so I can do what I want. I put my hair in a tight bun right on the top of my head, and then finally, finally,I get my bike out of the garage and pedal off into the day.
It only takes ten minutes to get to the animal shelter, but I enjoy each one. Last year, when my parents first let me go there by myself, I felt like a baby that someone had accidentally let out of the house. If anyone walked by, I’d assume they were thinking what is thischild doing outof thehouse unsupervised? And I spent the entire bike ride feeling anxious.
Now, the ride to the shelter is one of the best parts of my Sunday ritual (and Sundays are already the best). Once I turn out of our subdivision and head onto Main Street, my shoulders relax. My chest unlocks. It’s the only time I think I get why the people 25who come here for those silent retreats do it. The streets are practically empty this early and I can take big, deep breaths here, where no one’s watching and no one expects me to be anything. It’s almost like how I imagine being an adult will feel. Like I’m in charge of myself.
Middletown looks more or less the same today as it did back in June, the last time I did this trip before I left for camp. The late-summer haze is settling in, making everything feel humid and misty, but the breeze off the lake, just out of sight at the bottom of Main Street, keeps it comfortable. All the tourist shops that close on the off-season are opening, selling shirts that say stuff like lifeisbetteratthelakeand officiallyoncottagetimethat, for some reason, the tourists who rent the perfect cottages along the rocky lakeshore actually buy.
The shelter isn’t on Main Street, but it’s just down the road. Turn left at the florist, three doors down, there’s the squat grey building that doesn’t look at all like the land where dreams come true, even though it absolutely is. I lock up my bike in front of the shelter and bang on the door until Lydia comes to let me in.
I love Lydia. She’s way older than me but maybe younger than my parents. (Once people pass the age of twenty, but before they get reallywrinkly, they all kind 26of look the same and it’s hard to tell.) She dresses like me except she’s an adult with really cool short green hair – she’s too old for her parents to tell her she has to thinkherhairchoicesthrough. Lydia’s been in charge of the Middletown Animal Shelter for as long as I’ve been volunteering here (three years, which, by the way, makes me the longest-serving volunteer. Just saying.)
‘Good morning!’ I say once Lydia finally comes to the door and unlocks it for me. The shelter doesn’t officially open until 9 a.m. on Sundays, and the weekends are our biggest days for adoptions, so I’m here two hours early.
‘Oh, I miss being that chirpy at seven in the morning,’ Lydia says, cupping a hand to my face. I scrunch up my nose and she laughs, dropping her hand and turning to walk to the reception desk. I skip along after her and sit on the edge of the desk when she sits in the big spinny office chair.
‘How was camp?’ she asks.
Ugh. Finally. Lydia isn’t the type of person to speak over me when I try to tell her good news.
‘Sogood,’ I say.
‘What did I tell you? You had a good time, and we’re right here waiting for you.’
The last Sunday I was here was the week before I left for camp, and I knew I’d miss the shelter so much 27that I actually thought about not even going to camp. Tears were shed. It was a whole thing.
‘The coolestthinghappened, too,’ I say. ‘I made a friend there and it turns out she’s movinghereand going to my school.’
‘Sounds like destiny,’ Lydia says with a wink. She’s one of the only people I know who can actually pull off a wink.
‘What are we doing today?’ I ask. I’m morethanreadyto see all the animals again.
‘Will I ruin your good mood if I tell you litter boxes need cleaning?’
As if. Nothingruins my good mood on Sundays. When I’m a vet, I’m going to be dealing with way worse than a few litter boxes. Besides, I can start in the kitten room. Kittens could never put a person in a bad mood.
‘Can I visit Hank first?’ I ask. I try to give Lydia my best puppy-eyes face, but she just laughs me off.
‘I would never stand in the way of true love,’ she says, which means yes.
Hank is a two-year-old pit bull who’s lived in the shelter for the last year and a half, which is wild because he’s also the sweetest dog in the universe, but no one wants him because people are afraid of pit bulls. Whenever Lydia tries to show him to a family, 28they either refuse to meet him or they say he looks too scary to have around their kids.
On my last shift before I left for camp I fell asleep while I was reading to him (studies have shown it makes shelter dogs happier!) and, when I woke up, he had crawled into my lap and was snoring in my ear. But sure, random PTA mom, tell me more about how dangerous he is.
I would really love it if Hank found a home, but the one good part of him still living in the shelter is the fact that I get to hang out with him every weekend. I’ve begged my parents to let me take him home at least once a month since he got here, but we’re apparently filledtothebrimwithpugsand don’t have the room or the money for him.
Hank’s tail starts wagging like crazy when he sees me, and soon his whole body is wiggling around too. He play-bows to me.
‘Uh-uh!’ I say. I hold up my hand and we stare each other down until he sits. ‘Good boy!’
I give him all the treats in my pocket. Hank and I have been working on not jumping up when he gets excited. I feel like it doesn’t help his image.
Hank and I snuggle for a little while (he very patiently lets me squish his perfect face for a bit and everything), but eventually I know Lydia’s 29going to come in and tell me that I doactually have to do my job.
‘I’ll see you later, okay?’ I say. Hank smiles, because that’s kind of all Hank does. He’s the best boy in the world.
