Dog Beach Unleashed (17 page)

“Yup.”

Even though we've kind of said good-bye, we keep walking together, which feels a little awkward.

“Why do you look so worried?” Bennett asks.

“I do?” Now I'm all self-conscious. As if he told me that the back of my dress was stuck in my underwear.

“Yes.”

“I feel like you're mad at me,” I say. “And I really hate that feeling.”

He groans. “I'm not mad at you. Come on.”

“See? Now you're mad at me because I
think
you're mad at me.”

He shakes his head, half frustrated, half amused. “Seriously. Stop.”

I know I'm annoying him. But sometimes even when you know you're annoying someone, you can't stop doing it.

“I just didn't want to lose what we had.” I keep talking, even though I know I should stay quiet. “I was trying so hard to keep everything the same that I actually made it different.”

“You can't stop things from changing, Remy.”

“So then why do you still seem annoyed at me?”

“Because I like you. As more than a friend.” Even though he's talking about something nice, the words come out sounding snarly. “Because I'm annoyed that you wouldn't give us a chance, just because you were worried about losing our friendship.”

I don't respond. He has a point, but I'm not sure I agree with him.

“My mom was always so scared of losing this ring she loved that she never wore it. She kept it at home in her dresser drawer,” he tells me. “It was the stupidest thing
ever. What's the point of even having the ring if it stays in a drawer?”

I think I understand what he's saying. “That's pretty dumb,” I mumble. “And your mom's a smart lady.”

“Sometimes you have to take a chance,” he says.

“You're right,” I say.

“I'm mad that you wouldn't give
us
a chance. And I still like you.
Like
you, like you, I mean. But I'll always be your friend. No matter what.”

After a few moments of silence, we start to walk in different directions to pick up all the dogs. I keep thinking about what Bennett said. I didn't want to give him a chance, because what if it all fell apart and we lost what we had? But I know in my heart that there's another reason, too. I started to like Calvin. And you can't always help who you like. It just sort of happens to you. The same way you can't help who your parents are, and if they stay married or if they get divorced.

There's so much that we don't have any control over.

And that just seems so hard.

I look up at the sky, half expecting to see storm clouds looming in the distance.

On the way to Dog Beach, I stop at Mornings
to pick up some croissants. We all need some cheering up, especially Calvin and Claire.

I place the croissants on one of the lounge chairs and let all the dogs off their leashes. Well, except for Lester, who's acting feisty today.

“Who's on Lester duty?” Micayla asks.

“I guess me.” I smile. “We seem to get each other.”

“That makes sense,” Micayla replies. “You both kind of like running away.”

I think about her words, but I'm not totally convinced she's right. “I know I avoid change, but I haven't been running away as much lately. I've actually been opening up about my feelings. Especially with Calvin. Don't you think so?”

“Kind of.” She pulls up the lounge next to me and lies
down. We watch Calvin and Bennett in the ocean with the dogs for a while. Every few seconds we see Oreo's black and white body pop up from the water.

His swimming has really improved.

“What do you mean,
kind of
?” I ask.

She waits a few seconds to talk. “Well, I still feel like you're avoiding how you really feel about Bennett.”

“Stop already, Mic.” Frustration seeps out, even though I don't want it to. “My feelings changed. I can't help it.”

“So then it's fine for me to like him?”

It should be fine, but it's not. And I have no idea what to do about that.

“Why aren't you answering me?” she asks.

“Because I don't know what to say,” I admit. “I'm sorry. It doesn't seem fine to me. But I don't know why.”

She shakes her head and gets up to go help Calvin and Bennett with the dogs. Tabby and Potato Salad are growling at each other.

“Hey,” Claire says, holding Ritzy in her arms. “Someone forgot to pick her up today.”

“Oops.” I look over the schedule. “It was me.”

“I know,” Claire scoffs. “You're too busy thinking about my brother and not focusing on your responsibilities.”

Her words sting.

“Sorry.” I refill the water bowls, mostly so I don't have to look at Claire. I know I messed up, but she doesn't have to be so mean about it.

She puts Ritzy down and gives me an angry look. “Honestly, Remy, I love you, but it's hard to be around you right now.”

“What? Why?”

“You like my brother and he likes you.” She scowls. “It's not okay. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“I didn't plan it like this,” I admit. “Honestly.”

“So what? That doesn't change it. How come everything has to change around me, and I have to just go along with it?”

“I'm sorry,” I say, even though I'm not sure I am.

“Uh-huh.” She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.” She walks off and joins the others, too.

How can Micayla and Claire both be so angry with me on the same morning?

Later that day, after all the dogs are home, I turn around with Marilyn Monroe and head to Daisy's for a treat, just the two of us. It's drizzling, but I don't even bother to take an umbrella. I've gotten so used to the rain this summer that I barely feel it anymore.

“We need some quality time,” I tell Mari. “Right?”

She yips.

I get her one of Daisy's specialties, the doggie fruit salad: crunchy pieces of kibble in the shape of different fruits. She loves it. And I get a strawberry smoothie. We stay there for a while, hanging out, just the two of us.

“Everyone hates me,” I whine to her.

She whimpers and goes back to her doggie fruit salad.

“I guess I messed up,” I say. “It's weird to like your friend's brother.”

Mari finishes her fruit salad and hops up into my lap while we wait for the check.

“It's easier to be a dog,” I tell her. “Humans make things all complicated.”

She nuzzles my neck and gives me a million doggie-lick kisses. Maybe she's saying that she thinks being a human is pretty great. Or maybe she's saying that dog life really is better. Or maybe she's simply the only one who understands me.

Calvin and I make a plan to meet at the grassy
lawn to help set up. He's the only one in the group who's not mad at me at the moment, and I'm excited to spend some one-on-one time with him.

It's a little weird that we had that whole “we like each other” talk and then haven't hung out since. Maybe he doesn't know what to do about it, either. It's not as if there's any rule book to follow or anything. There's no way to prepare for these feelings.

On my walk over, the whole island feels off. There aren't many people around. I chalk that up to the fact that they're probably already busy setting up booths, or they're home preparing for the big day. Or maybe it's the weather.

It's gloomy out, gray and cloudy, the way it's been so many days this summer. There's once again been talk of a storm
moving up from the south, and it's windy, the kind of wind that makes you want to pull the hood of your sweatshirt over your face.

I get that nervous feeling in my stomach, uneasy because my friends are mad and I'm not quite sure how to fix things. I push it away. This is Seagate Centennial Summer day! One hundred years of Seagate magic. I just know it's going to bring out the best in everyone. I need to focus on that.

I've been avoiding the great lawn the past few days because I didn't want to spoil the excitement of this moment. I didn't want to see the carnival rides or booths half set up. I wanted to see them all perfect and ready to go. I wanted to witness the complete picture.

But what I see is not what I anticipated. What I see looks like complete chaos.

“Remy!” Mrs. Pursuit says, clearly as startled as I am. She's in the process of quickly stuffing some materials into cardboard boxes and stacking them in one of the famous Seagate red wagons. “You shouldn't be here now.”

“What? Why? What's going on?” I look all around. The carnival rides are dismantled and pushed together in a corner of the lawn. Only a few booths are standing. The stage is gone. “What's happening?”

“You haven't heard?” she asks me.

This feels like a bad dream. But this time I know I'm awake.

“We're evacuating Seagate.” She continues stacking the boxes. “Today.”

I look around. “We are? Why?”

She doesn't look at me. She keeps packing and stacking, out of breath, as if she's in some kind of imaginary competition. “The hurricane down south changed course. It's coming directly here. Mandatory evacuation for everyone.”

“But the carnival! The Centennial,” I say. “I don't get it.”

“I know, Remy.” She shakes her head and looks up at me finally. “But you need to get home. Go find your parents.”

Come to think of it, it was a little weird that my parents weren't home this morning. I figured they were on one of their beach walks. But it's pretty odd that they didn't wake me up to tell me the bad news.

I text my friends as I run back home, but no one responds. Maybe they're all too busy packing. Maybe they left last night and didn't tell me? They're all mad at me, but they would still want to say good-bye, wouldn't they?

I run faster than I've ever run before. I don't understand what's happening right now. Everything changed so quickly. Everything we had planned is now ruined.

I get home, and my parents are out on the front porch, waiting for me.

“What part of stay here and start packing didn't you understand?” my dad asks me. He's angry. He doesn't get angry very often, so when he does, you definitely know it.

“What? I don't know what you're talking about.”

He shows me the note. “We left this for you on the kitchen table.”

“I didn't see it,” I tell them. “I had no idea what's going on.”

I'm so consumed with my own thoughts that I can't focus on anything my dad is telling me. Something about their going to get plywood planks to put over the windows. Sandbags. That's where they were this morning. They thought I understood when they half woke me from a sound sleep, but I'd promptly drifted back off and had no idea.

He explains that there are extra ferries leaving the island.

But I don't want extra ferries. I don't want to leave.

I can't leave Seagate knowing that Micayla and Claire are mad at me and that Bennett's annoyed with me, too. And when everything's still so confusing with Calvin.

And no Seagate Centennial Summer celebration. No carnival. What about the booths? The performers?

My dad continues. “A massive hurricane is brewing, coming up the coast. It looks like it will hit us directly in the next few days.”

“No. Come on. They always say stuff like that,” I explain. “Seriously. Nothing ever
really
happens. We don't need to go.”

“It's real, Rem,” my mom says. “It's not safe to stay. Safety comes first.”

“What about the safety of Seagate? The houses? The stadium? Sundae Best?” I ask. “What's going to happen to them?”

My dad goes on and on about precautions—plywood planks and technical stuff that's too confusing to pay attention to.

“What about the year-rounders?” I ask them. “Where will they go?”

“There are shelters off-island,” my mom tells me. “They have places to go. All the emergency precautions are in place.”