The Black Sheep (14 page)

“Meadow,” he says. “I know. My agent told me about the shrine, so I tuned in.”

I hope he doesn't think that just because Meadow and I share a room that we're equally immature. “She's only ten. She gets carried away.”

“Well, tell her I said hi,” he says. “I was watching you out there just now. I thought you did a great job. Talk shows can be tough, especially for beginners.”

“Nelle totally humiliated me.”

“You held your own,” he says. “I'm guessing the emancipation thing wasn't your idea.”

“How did you know?”

“I've been around the block a few times. There's always someone behind the scenes pulling strings. All you can do is keep fighting. You have to stay true to yourself.”

Logan Waters is giving me advice! Wait until Lucy hears about this. She will freak out. I am freaking out a little myself, although I'm working hard to hide it. A Black Sheep must be above hero worship.

Logan is a well-known environmentalist, so when he asks me about Team 14, I give him all the details, even the story about meeting the Bigwigs.

When I finally stop talking, he asks, “How old are you?”

This flusters me. If Logan is curious about my age, he must be thinking of ditching the model girlfriend for me. I wouldn't have thought it possible, given how much younger I am, but I've always been mature for my age. Plus, I'm not the same private-school math nerd who left New York.

Not that I can even think about going out with him. Logan may be one of the coolest, best-looking guys I have ever met, but I do have a boyfriend.

At least, I think I have a boyfriend. Mitch still hasn't come right out and said the word “girlfriend,” but he acts as if I am. I catch him looking at me a lot, and he keeps trying to find opportunities to get me alone. And then this morning, he lent me his iPod for the plane and told me he'd downloaded some songs he thought I'd like. That is
such
a boyfriend thing to do.

On the other hand, we've stolen a few moments together here and there since our mini golf date, and Mitch could easily have let me know where I stand. How hard could it be to work that one little word into a sentence? As in, “I am so glad I could lend my iPod to my
girlfriend
.” Or, “It's great to be working on Team Fourteen with my
girl
friend
.”

Given that Mitch hasn't said the word, I decide to keep my options open with Logan. Mitch is definitely my first choice, but if he's not going to commit, Logan Waters would be a great fallback.

Logan startles me out of my reverie. “Is that such a tough question?”

“Sorry?”

“I asked how old you are.”

Since I'm keeping my options open, I exaggerate. “Eighteen.”

He laughs. “I wouldn't have put you a day over sixteen.”

I'll take it. Now that I think about it, I could totally see Logan and me together. We're both from New York, and he's obviously someone who shares my concerns about animals and the environment. Meadow's magazines haven't said he's hung up about education, either. He probably doesn't believe in getting stuck in ivy-covered bastions of higher learning when he could be out in the world learning by doing. In other words, he might be a Black Sheep, just like me.

Still, I don't feel good about leading Logan on. “Listen,” I say. “There's something I—”

Before I can let him down easily, the flunky arrives to collect him. Logan reaches out to rap my hand lightly with his fist and says, “It was nice meeting you, Kendra.”

“Wait!” I call as he turns to go. “Could you give me your autograph—for Meadow?”

I offer him a napkin, and while he's signing it, I write something on another one. We exchange napkins and he waves good-bye.

“You tricked me, KB,” Judy says, practically shoving me into the limo. “I did not spring for an all expenses-paid trip to Los Angeles so that you could grandstand about some stupid cause on my dime.”

“Telling people about a real problem isn't grandstanding,” I say.

Judy slams the door and walks around the car, complaining audibly the whole way.

“Don't speak,” she says, climbing into the seat beside me. “Just listen. Harry Queen's people called while you were on with Nelle, and he wants you to do his show tonight. Once we set foot in the CNN studio, the word ‘seal' will not cross your lips. There's only one animal that Harry Queen wants to hear about and that's
The Black Sheep
. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly.” I unfold the napkin Logan gave me. It says,
Meadow, your big ‘sister' Kendra rocks, and you do, too! Love, Logan Waters.

Judy reaches for the napkin but I snatch it away and stow it in my purse. With this to barter, Meadow will never borrow my clothes again.

“I'm serious, KB,” Judy continues. “If you keep harping on about Team Fourteen, I won't be the only one in trouble with the network. The divorce is the issue here. That's what talk-show hosts want you to talk about. Repeat after me: From now on, I will discuss only
The Black Sheep
.”

“From now on,” I say, “I will discuss only
The Black Sheep
.”

Harry Queen shakes my hand and turns to the camera.

“Good evening, everyone. Tonight's guest is a young lady from New York City who's joined forces with her new friends and family in Monterey, California, to take on a Carmel institution. Kendra Bishop, I want you to tell me all about Team Fourteen.”

I
t's quiet inside the limo as the driver rounds the corner onto the Mulligans' street. Judy glances up from her
Enquirer
magazine to make sure I'm aware that she's giving me the silent treatment. Apparently it's my fault that Harry Queen was more interested in discussing Team 14 than
The Black Sheep
last night. Apparently it's also my fault that three radio shows wanted me to talk about the same thing on the air today. I pointed out that I'm just giving the people what they want, but Judy said that if I hadn't “ranted about the damn seals” on
Nelle
, they wouldn't have wanted the wrong thing. Whatever. She's the one who set up the talk-show circuit, not me.

Chili is alone outside with his camera when we pull into the driveway, which is strange. The Mulligan house is usually a magnet for every kid in the neighborhood, but today it looks deserted.

“Where is everyone?” I ask Chili as the driver deposits my bags on the porch.

He shrugs. “Dunno. Place seems pretty quiet.”

I dig the house key out of my bag and unlock the front door. “Hello! I'm home!”

There's no response. Judy and Chili trail behind me as I walk through the house and open the door to the backyard. Empty. Not even the dog to greet me.

“Gee, what a letdown,” Judy says, breaking her silence to taunt me. “I'm sure you were expecting a hero's welcome after your antics in L.A.”

“I wasn't expecting anything,” I say, lugging my suitcase upstairs. I was, of course, but it's not like coming home to an empty house is new to me. After my parents fired Rosa, the place was so empty it echoed. I could have screamed my head off and no one would have heard me inside that marble tomb.

When I first came to Monterey, the Mulligan house felt like Grand Central Station, with its constant traffic. It took me weeks to adjust to the noise and frenzy, but now that I have, I realize that one of the things I like most about living here is that there's someone to greet me whenever I walk through the door. Mona always makes a point of asking about my day and discussing the highs and lows as if they're actually interesting to her. She does the same thing with Mitch and Meadow and even the twins. I imagine she learned the technique in some hippie encounter group, but it does make you feel special.

In my room, I sit down on the bed and stroke Manhattan. While I haven't grown to love him, I no longer cringe when I feel his bones through his pelt. Tonight, he's better than nothing. I scratch under his chin and something shiny drops out of his jaws onto the quilt: Judy's diamond ring.

I pick it up as she walks into the room and starts in on me again. “KB, even your seal-whisperer shtick is more interesting than this.”

“No one's keeping you here,” I say. I change my mind about returning the ring to her and slide it under the pillow. Maybe I can pawn it later and use the proceeds to start up a school to promote Black Sheepism.

“You're right,” she says. “Wrap it up, Chili. I happen to know where we can get a free drink. God knows I need one.”

Judy must really be steamed over
Harry Queen
if she's skipping out before tonight's
Black Sheep
episode airs, but I don't try to stop her. Instead, I watch out the front window as the limo pulls away from the curb, and then head back into the kitchen to get a soda.

Although I didn't expect a hero's welcome, I did count on Mitch's being here to greet me. Yesterday was a really big day, with more excitement than I've experienced in an entire lifetime. At the very least, he should want to hear about it firsthand. Is it too much to ask to share this experience with my boyfriend? What's the point of even having one if he's not going to be around when you need him? He's probably off doing guy things with Calvin during my time of need, leaving me to confide in a ferret.

Looking around for a pen and paper to write my breakup speech, I find Mona's note on the kitchen table:
Kendra, we're at the aquarium
.

The aquarium has already closed by the time I arrive, but being an activist in residence I have a key. I hurry to the supply room, assuming that there's an impromptu meeting. Maybe the golf club has reacted to my talk-show appearances in some way, and everyone has gathered to brainstorm.

I fling open the supply room door to find more than two dozen people crammed inside. The Mulligans are all here, as well as Carrie and Calvin, aquarium staff and volunteers, and all of Team 14. Obviously something big has happened, and I arrived just in time.

Then I notice the streamers hanging from the light fixtures, and the food laid out on one of the desks. Are they having a party without me?

Mitch is the first to notice me, and he comes right over. If anyone else happened to be watching, they'd probably say he rushed. His smile is wide enough to satisfy even
my
doubts. I don't know what I was thinking earlier. Logan Waters may be rich, talented, and hot, but he's no Mitch.

“Welcome back,” Mitch says. His arms rise as if he's going to hug me, but he remembers where we are and drops them again.

I resist the urge to grab his hand. “What's going on?” I ask.

Mona steps forward to do the hugging for us. “Let's hear it, people,” she says, turning to the crowd.

Everyone sings “For She's a Jolly Good Fellow.” Meadow's voice soars above the rest of the voices and Max's croaking bass sinks below.

A grin stretches across my face. “For me?”

Mona points to a sign on the wall congratulating me. “Do you see anyone else's name? Sorry we couldn't pull off the surprise. We didn't know when you'd get here.”

“Oh, I'm surprised,” I assure her.

Meadow rushes over and says, “
She
ruined the surprise.
She
said Bob would radio in when you got to the aquarium so that we could turn out the lights and hide.” The “she” in question is Judy, who is leaning against a makeshift bar with a glass of red wine in her hand.

“So I forgot,” Judy says, draining her glass. “Big deal.”

Carrie whispers, “What's her problem? She's been a bitch since she got here.”

“Too much otter, not enough divorce,” I reply. “As if I would diss my parents on national TV just to make Judy happy. I hope they caught Nelle's show so that they know I'm not buying into the plan.”

“Bad news on that front,” Carrie says. “Judy mentioned that your parents are running a marathon in Mexico with Maya this week. They probably didn't see it.”

Before I can react, Team 14 members surround us. Mitch hands me a soda and raises his glass to propose a toast. “To Kendra, who really knows how to get the word out.”

“To Kendra,” everyone echoes, clinking plastic glasses.

Everyone except Judy, that is. I can't help but notice that her glass remains glued to her lips. But then, it takes work to keep a mouth that size full.

Meadow picks up Mitch's camcorder and begins to interview the crowd. “Wasn't Kendra great on
Nelle
?” she asks Judy.

“Fantastic,” Judy says, her voice devoid of enthusiasm. “In fact, I'm going to use my network resources so that she can launch a National Otter Tour. Get it?
National Otter Tour?
As in NOT!” She punctuates her remark with a wave of her glass, splashing Meadow's lens with red wine.

Chili lowers his camera. “Maybe you've had enough,” he says.

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Judy snaps. “Just plug the damn eyepiece and leave me alone.”

Leaving them to bicker, I head over to the food table.

“I saw you on
Nelle
yesterday,” Jordan says, joining me. “You looked great—especially in those boots.”

“Uh, thanks,” I say. I'm no expert, but it appears that Jordan is flirting with me. Given our history, nothing would make me happier than telling him I have a boyfriend, but I can't do it, because it's a secret boyfriend.

“I think it was really cool the way you mentioned Team Fourteen,” he says.

I glance around the room warily. “Is this a setup?”

“No.” He sounds indignant. “I'm serious. If you don't believe me, check their online petition. I signed it.”

“Since when have you had an interest in otter welfare?” I ask.

“Since I saw you in those boots,” he says, laughing. “Just kidding! Listening to you convinced me I should. That's why I joined Team Fourteen.”

“You did?”

He nods. “Also, I wanted to prove I'm not a total jerk. Every time I see you, I end up looking like an idiot. I guess you make me nervous.”

As far as I know, the last time I made someone nervous was when I explained the benefits of capitalism to my first-grade teacher. Obviously Black Sheepism has transformed me not only into an activist, but also a femme fatale.

I hope Mitch appreciates how lucky he is.

Black Sheep Rule Number Twenty, Subsection—Guys:
Where there is sufficient evidence of repentance, second chances are permitted. Note: third chances may not be granted under any circumstances.

“I'm glad you've joined the team,” I say. “We need all the help we can get.”

Jordan's smile lights up his face, and I return it, basking in the glow of my influence. I, Kendra Bishop—Plain Jane, Math Nerd, Wallflower—am finally popular! I'm on the radar at last.

Over Jordan's shoulder, I see Mitch watching us. He catches my eye, unsmiling, before turning to walk away.

I peer into the jellyfish gallery. “Mitch? Are you in here?” When there's no answer, I walk farther into the exhibit. The light is on in the sea nettle tank, so somebody must be home. My vision adjusts, and I see him leaning against the wall beside the tank. I can't see his expression clearly, but there's no gleam of white teeth.

“What's going on?” I ask.

“Just taking a break from the crowd,” he says. “Being stuck in a room with that many people and no windows isn't my idea of a good time.”

I try not to take offense over the fact that he's not enjoying my party. He's a nature guy, more at home on the high seas than in high society. I understand that. In fact, it's one of the things I like about him. So I decide to be the understanding girlfriend. “You don't have to stay if you don't want to. We can catch up at home.”

He crosses his arms. “If you want me to leave, just say so.”

“That's not what I said!” My voice squeaks in alarm. “I just don't want you to stay if you're hating it.”

“I never said I hated it. But you've hardly even spoken to me, so I didn't think you'd notice if I left.”

Has he gotten into the wine? “You know we can't talk that much with Judy around.”

He shrugs. “You don't seem to mind if she thinks you're with Jordan.”

Okay, now I see what's going on here. “I'm not interested in Jordan, Mitch,” I say.

“Why would I care?” he asks, turning to watch the sea nettles on their magical journey. “You're not my girlfriend or anything.”

Ouch. The nettles couldn't sting any worse than that. “No,” I reply faintly. “I guess not.” I feel like toxins are creeping through my body, killing me slowly. How could this have gone so far wrong? I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. Mitch and I have met here many times over the past two weeks, but we've only had one real date. Any other girl would have known he was just leading me on. Any other girl would have recognized that a secret relationship is an imaginary relationship. Any other girl would have realized that guys are not worth the trouble.

The feeling returns to my feet, and I turn to go. Mitch catches my arm. “Wait,” he says. “I didn't mean that. I'm sorry.”

“It's not like I can tell Jordan that I'm seeing you,” I point out. “If that's what I'm doing.”

“You are,” he says, letting his hand slide down my arm until he is holding my hand. “That's why I'm jealous.”

“But you just said I wasn't your girlfriend.” This time I will leave absolutely no room for doubt.

Mitch's teeth finally flash in the gloom. “Your boyfriend's a liar.” He pulls me in for a kiss.

After a few more reminders of why guys are worth the trouble, Mitch tells me that he's proud of the way I handled myself on the talk shows.

“I guess I was pretty good,” I say.

“Pretty good? You have no idea. The Web site has been flooded with e-mails from people who want to help with Team Fourteen. Overnight, we got fifty thousand signatures on the petition.”

Fifty thousand!
“The Boulder Beach bigwigs will have to change their plans now,” I say.

He shakes his head. “They're still ignoring us. Lisa's contacts say the club is holding a charity tournament next week, and the bigwigs are going to unveil a model of the new fourteenth fairway.”

“Maybe we should round up those fifty thousand supporters and crash the tournament. That'd be pretty hard to ignore.”