After Jack was done tormenting the fish and the ducks had swum off, he shook the water from his fur and lay down by my side. There had been a lot of excited chatter and celebration at dinner the night before, but I never said anything. Instead, my words came out during the small meal Jack and I shared by the water’s edge.

  “I want to go and see Ms. Stacy again,” I confessed, “but I don’t think I can.”

  Jack lifted his head and looked at me. He was listening. He always listened to me.

  “What would I even say to her?” I asked.

  I didn’t expect him to answer, but I knew he understood. He’d helped me with Simon and the mystery box, so maybe he’d help me again.

  I was right. The opportunity presented itself a week later when Livvy came home with Snowball, her class’s beloved stuffed bunny. Sometimes sacrifices are needed for a greater good.

  28

  BUNNY ATTACK

  Jack-Jack was perfect without his crate. No barking. No destruction. No nothing. Just one happy pup. My father still couldn’t believe that was all it took.

  “You live and learn, I guess” was all he could say.

  While Jack’s crate situation was finally settled, things in my life were not. Mom seemed satisfied the apology had happened, but I still wanted to go and see Ms. Stacy again, except I didn’t have the courage, and now that it had been a week since my first visit to her classroom, I didn’t think I could go back. But I wanted to. And I wasn’t even sure I could tell you why. I just did.

  The good news: Jack-Jack was fully aware of my ongoing dilemma. It was thanks to him that I’d met Ms. Stacy in the first place, and it was thanks to him that I found a reason to visit a second time.

  Livvy came home with Snowball on Friday, and boy, was she excited. Abby too! Livvy had to write about Snowball’s many adventures with our family in the bunny’s journal that traveled with her from home to home. I doubt you’ll be surprised to hear me say my sisters had so much planned. What a weekend that bunny had!

  First up was a fancy tea party that the family—Jack included—had to attend to officially welcome Snowball to our home. Jack was a good boy and never once showed interest in Snowball. He pretended to be more concerned with the tiny carrots my sisters served. He had us fooled.

  The next day began with a special breakfast featuring French toast and—you guessed it—carrots. That was followed by an afternoon picnic and then movie night to cap things off. It wasn’t even close to Easter yet, but my sisters decided to watch Hop because they thought Snowball would enjoy a movie that featured a bunny.

  Jack let my sisters have their fun, patiently waiting for his opening. Come Sunday night, he got his chance. Liv and Abby must have lost interest in Snowball. Either that, or they were exhausted from their many weekend adventures. Whatever the reason, the bunny was left on the couch, unattended, when they went to bed.

  I couldn’t tell you how long it took, but I’m sure it happened fast. I came out of the bathroom and walked into the living room to find Jack standing over a pile of stuffie guts. Snowball’s ear was ripped off and her butt torn open.

  I gasped. Jack-Jack snatched the furball and streaked upstairs. I bent down and quickly scooped up Snowball’s insides. If Liv and Abby found out about this, there would be a major meltdown. Like, major.

  I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do, but I knew it started with me finding my dog before there was nothing left of Snowball. I raced upstairs after him.

  As expected, I found the naughty culprit in my bedroom. He slunk under my bed and crawled behind my box of Charlie stuff. The box I wasn’t sure I’d ever open again—until now.

  29

  WEDDING BELLS

  Mom had the same reaction as me when she walked into my bedroom and spotted a gutted Snowball. “Ahh!” she gasped in horror.

  “Jackson,” Dad growled, glaring at my guilty dog.

  I pulled Roscoe, the bunny I’d won thanks to Charlie, from behind my back and held him out.

  “Where did you get that?” Mom asked.

  I pointed to my box of Charlie stuff.

  “Oh yes, I remember now. You came home with him in first grade.”

  I nodded.

  “Well, it’s not exactly the same, but it should work,” Dad said.

  “Are you kidding? It’ll never work,” Mom argued. “That bunny looks nothing like Snowball. The girls will definitely know.”

  “Who’s Snowball?” Dad asked.

  “Oh my God,” Mom groaned. “Snowball is the name of their class pet, the dead bunny over there. Were you or were you not at the tea party?”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, ‘oh,’ ” Mom mimicked, shaking her head.

  “I’ve been thinking,” I said, taking my parents by surprise. They still weren’t used to me talking much. “What if we say the new bunny is Snowball’s boyfriend?”

  Mom looked at Dad and shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “But that still doesn’t explain why Snowball is dead.”

  “The butler did it,” Dad suggested.

  “No!” Mom shrieked. “These are little kids. We’re not turning this into one of your detective shows.”

  Dad shrugged. “I thought it was good.”

  “I’ve got it!” Mom said. “Snowball’s gone dress shopping. For her wedding to—”

  “Roscoe,” I said.

  “To Roscoe,” Mom finished. “That buys us a day to find a replacement.”

  “I can go to the mall when I get off work tomorrow,” Dad offered.

  “No, I’ll go,” Mom insisted. “I need to make sure we get an exact replica. Knowing you, you’d come back with a stuffed elephant and try to pass that off as Snowball.”

  Dad shrugged again, knowing that didn’t sound so farfetched.

  “Now we just need to convince Liv and Abby that everything is fine tomorrow morning,” Mom said, “and we also need to tell Ms. Stacy the real story.”

  “I’ll tell her,” I volunteered.

  Jack’s tail wagged.

  “You want to go and explain this to her?” Mom asked, making sure she understood.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Okay. I’ll send a note in with your sisters telling Ms. Stacy she should expect you after school, and that you’ll explain about Snowball then.”

  I nodded and Jack-Jack’s tail wagged faster.

  “And, Thea,” Mom said, pausing in my doorway before leaving, “it’s nice to see some of your drawings again. They’re really terrific.”

  I glanced at the mallard duck I’d tacked up after my day with Jack at Whitman Forest. “Thanks.”

  Mom smiled, then turned and left. I rubbed Jack-Jack’s side and we got ready for bed. I had a big day ahead of me.

  30

  EXPLAINING THE IMPOSTER

  The first part was easy. Liv and Abby thought it was great that Snowball had found a boyfriend and was getting married. They couldn’t wait to take Roscoe into school to tell their classmates the big news. Talk about gullible.

  It was the next part of the plan that wasn’t so easy. I spent all day thinking about what to say to Ms. Stacy. I’d told my parents that I’d go and explain, but now I was having second thoughts. Was I really going to be able to talk to her? Other than Jack-Jack and my family, no one had heard my voice since the accident.

  I walked into Johnny Arena Elementary, my heart pounding harder with every step that brought me closer to Ms. Stacy’s classroom. I was so consumed by nerves and doubt that I wasn’t paying attention to anything else. I never even saw the boy until he was there. Standing in front of me. Talking.

  “Hey, are you the one who fixed the mystery box with dog poop?”

  I jumped.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But was that you?”

  I froze, staring at the floor.

  “It was you. You’re dog-poop girl!” he exclaimed, sounding proud of his discovery.

  Who was this boy?

  “I go to the middle school, but I heard all about it because my mom is the principal here. I think it’s awesome. That Simon terror has taken years off my mom’s life. It’s about time somebody taught him a lesson.”

  I don’t know what made me, but I glanced up at him and he smiled. I quickly looked away again.

  “Hi, Rory,” a familiar voice said as someone approached us. It was Ms. Stacy. “I see you’ve met Thea.”

  “Yup,” he replied. “Had to meet the legend.”

  Ms. Stacy laughed. “I’m quite certain you’re a legend too,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he scoffed. “The bulletin-board legend, maybe.”

  “Rory is a big help around here,” Ms. Stacy explained. “He’s responsible for all the bulletin boards you see in the lobby and main hallway. As you can see, he’s very creative.”

  I nodded to be polite but didn’t dare look at him again.

  “Well, I’m on my way to the library to do a little homework while I wait for Mom,” he said. “Nice meeting you, Thea. I’ll see you later, Ms. Stacy.”

  “See you later,” she replied.

  Rory went one way and I followed Ms. Stacy in the opposite direction. Don’t ask me why, but before turning the corner, I glanced back. Rory caught me peeking and waved. I darted behind the wall, ready to die—but it wasn’t like I was safe, because now came the thing I’d been worrying about all day. It was time for me to talk to Ms. Stacy.

  “Your sisters are out on the playground,” she explained when we entered her classroom. “I told them we’d come and find them in a little bit.”

  I nodded.

  “Have a seat,” she said, and gestured.

  I chose the same desk I’d sat in the first time. Ms. Stacy took the seat across from me again.

  “Your mother sent in a note explaining what happened with Snowball. You’ve got quite the dog there, Thea.”

  I nodded. (We still didn’t know the half of it.)

  “The kids loved Roscoe and the wedding story,” Ms. Stacy said, “so I’m not too concerned. But tell me, Thea, wherever did you find another bunny on such short notice?”

  This was it. I swallowed. “I had it,” I croaked.

  Ms. Stacy waited, giving me the chance to say more.

  I swallowed again. “My friend helped me win it from the prize box in first grade.”

  “Helped you win it? How’s that?” Ms. Stacy asked, curious.

  “We had to guess how many jelly beans were in Mrs. Hobby’s jar. The closest person got to pick out of the prize box. Charlie—”

  I stopped. My hand flew to my lips, covering my mouth.

  Again, Ms. Stacy waited. If I’d shut down and quit talking she would’ve been fine with it—but I didn’t.

  I took a breath. “Charlie saw where Mrs. Hobby had written down the answer and told me,” I finished, letting go of the air I was holding.

  Ms. Stacy smiled. A warm smile. “Good friend,” she said.

  “The best.”

  We were quiet for a moment before Ms. Stacy spoke again. “Do you mind if I ask you another question, Thea?”

  “No.” It was funny how after being mute for so long, talking happened naturally once I got started. It wasn’t as if I’d forgotten how, I just chose not to. But I liked talking with Ms. Stacy.

  “The mystery box,” she said.

  “Yeah, I still need to apologize for that.”

  “How in the world did you think of that one?” she asked.

  I shifted in my chair. I didn’t tell her about Jack-Jack. Instead I told her about Charlie.

  “When we were in second grade, we had a boy named Fred in our class,” I began. “I think Fred was a lot like Simon, only meaner.”

  “Simon’s a sweet boy,” Ms. Stacy said. “He struggles with self-control and personal space, but he’s been doing better since your lesson,” she added, and smirked.

  I grinned. “Fred was especially mean to Charlie,” I continued. “He was always making fun of Charlie’s lazy eye.”

  “A lazy eye, like Jack-Jack?” Ms. Stacy mused.

  “Yes,” I replied. “Fred liked to call Charlie a pirate and stuff like that. Charlie pretended not to care, so then Fred started stealing his lunch, rummaging through it and taking whatever he wanted.”

  I paused then and looked at Ms. Stacy.

  She sat forward. “Charlie put dog poop in his lunch?” she asked, almost sounding excited.

  I giggled. “No, but he did switch out his usual PB&J sandwich for a peanut butter and worm special. You should’ve seen it when Fred stole that thing and took a big juicy bite! Boy, did he freak. He spit it all over the floor and started screaming and crying like a big baby.

  “Fred was sent to the nurse and Charlie had to see the principal, but he didn’t get in much trouble and Fred left Charlie alone after that, so we both agreed it was worth it.”

  Ms. Stacy sat back and smiled. “I like Charlie,” she said.

  “He was great.”

  We stayed there for a minute, thinking our own thoughts, and then I told Ms. Stacy I should round up my sisters and get going. Jack would be waiting for us, looking out the living room window and wondering where we were.

  Ms. Stacy nodded. “See you later,” she said when I got up from my chair.

  “See you later,” I replied—and I knew I would.

  31

  HIPPO FACE

  Another week passed, bringing us into the middle of October. I barely had any homework so Jack-Jack and I worked on training and spent another afternoon at Whitman Forest—at his request—where he got to swim and romp while I sat and sketched a blue heron that stalked the shallows nearby, and then it was “later.”

  Mom still felt terrible and partly responsible for the whole Snowball fiasco, so she decided to put together a little something for Ms. Stacy. It wasn’t much, just a few candles and lotions and some chocolates tucked into a gift bag, but the candles were in glass jars so they were fragile and the lotions could open and make a mess, so Mom asked if I’d be willing to deliver it after school because she didn’t trust my sisters. More importantly, she’d finally tracked down a replacement for the original Snowball—wedding-dress shopping took longer than expected—so she needed me to deliver the new bunny as well. She didn’t have to ask me twice.

  The only problem I foresaw was the fact that I couldn’t stuff the gift bag inside my backpack without ruining it and I didn’t feel like carrying it to school—and I definitely wasn’t bringing a stuffed bunny to middle school!—so I decided I’d simply run home after I got out to quickly grab everything before going to get Liv and Abby. It was a good plan, but once I walked into the house, I realized I’d failed to think of something.

  Jack-Jack was there to greet me the moment I stepped inside the door, tail wagging and body shaking with excitement. He was so happy to see me. I couldn’t turn around and leave him again—not when I just got home. I had no choice but to bring him with me. I put him on his leash, grabbed the gift bag and bunny that I’d come for, and out the door we went. Ms. Stacy wouldn’t mind. Besides, Jack-Jack was the one who really needed to say sorry for the original Snowball’s destruction.

  I wish I could say the walk to Arena Elementary was easy and uneventful, but that wasn’t the case. At that time of day there were school buses and trucks everywhere. Each time one came roaring by, Jack-Jack cowered and yanked at his leash, desperate to get as far away as possible. This was his normal behavior, and I was used to it, but more than once I almost dropped those fragile candles. Ask me and I would’ve said it was a miracle we made it with everything still in one piece—but then again, I didn’t know anything about real miracles just yet.

  Liv and Abby knew the plan so they hung out with Ms. Stacy until I got there. I waited until the crowd in front of Johnny Arena dispersed and then I went to Ms. Stacy’s back windows and knocked. Liv and Abby were so thrilled to see I had Jack-Jack with me that they came running outside. They took him to the playground while I went inside to deliver Mom’s gift—and the new Snowball, which my sisters didn’t know about.

  “This bunny is perfect,” Ms. Stacy said. “The children will be so excited to see Snowball again.” She turned to me. “Thea, please tell your mother I said thank you, but this other stuff was wholly unnecessary. She’s too kind.”

  I smiled and watched as Ms. Stacy opened her bag, pulling out the different items. I already knew what was inside, but it’s fun to see how people react to presents. Needless to say, I wasn’t really paying attention to anything else, so the sudden knock startled me. I jumped, banging my knees on the underside of the desk, and quickly twisted around.

  It was Rory. He walked into the classroom performing an array of movements with his hands and fingers. He stopped when he was near me. Noticing my puzzled expression, he explained, “It’s sign language. I just said ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’ Do you happen to know sign language?”

  I was familiar with a few different gestures—the thumbs-up, for example, and Mom’s personal favorite, my eye roll—but that was the extent of my knowledge. Of course, I didn’t share this with Rory. On the contrary, I didn’t give him any response.

  He wasn’t deterred; he came prepared. Rory slipped off his backpack and pulled out a book that he slid onto my desk. You guessed it; it was a book about sign language.

  “If you study up, I thought maybe you and I could talk? With our hands and not our mouths,” he added to clarify, though that wasn’t necessary.

  I glimpsed Ms. Stacy smiling. She thought this was cute. I squirmed in my chair.

 

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