Read Dog Beach Unleashed Online

Authors: Lisa Greenwald

Dog Beach Unleashed (7 page)

It feels terrible to know that you can't fix something. I can't fix how Claire is feeling, just like she can't fix the problems her parents are having.

But there has to be something I can do.

Later that night, I toss and turn, unable to fall asleep. Marilyn Monroe is getting frustrated, too, whimpering every time I move. She hops off the bed and chooses to sleep on my window seat. Normally she puts up with my erratic sleep behavior. Not tonight. I guess she's too tired from her big day on Dog Beach.

When I really can't take the insomnia anymore, I decide to text Micayla and see if she's up. It's pretty common for both of us to have trouble sleeping on the same nights. I'm grateful that we're on good terms again and she's not feeling left out anymore. At least my friendship with Micayla is one thing I can feel good about right now.

Are you up?

I wait for a response, then hop out of bed to go to the
bathroom, and when I get back, there's a text message on my screen.

Yes, unfortunately. Call me.

I tiptoe out of my room because I don't want to wake Marilyn Monroe. I go out onto the back porch to call Micayla. One of the zillion wonderful things about Seagate is that I can go outside even in the middle of the night and Mom and Dad don't worry. We don't have an alarm that will go off. I don't need to take an elevator, or even a flight of stairs. I can go right outside and breathe in the ocean air at any hour of the day or night.

It's the best thing in the world.

“What's up?” Micayla says.

“Can't sleep. I dunno. What about you?”

She sighs. “Me neither. My sister and my mom had this huge fight, and it's been bugging me.”

“What was the fight about?” I ask.

“Something boring, like studying abroad. My mom thinks my sister should consider it, but my sister doesn't want to because of what her friends are doing, or something like that. I don't really know.” She pauses. “I hate it when they fight.”

“I'm sorry,” I say. “That sounds horrible.”

“What's on your mind? Why can't you sleep?” she asks me.

“Well, a few things. I guess partly the whole Claire situation. I feel like she's going through such a hard time, and
I don't know how to help. And then there's what you said before.”

“About Calvin?” She groans. “I shouldn't have told you. I knew you'd freak out.”

“Freak out?” I say way too loudly for almost one in the morning. “I'm not freaking out. I'm just thinking about it.”

“Right now you're freaking out because I
said
you were freaking out.” She laughs. “See what I mean?”

“No.” I roll my eyes, wishing she could see that through the phone. “Just tell me why you think that. Okay?”

“I overheard him telling Bennett.”

My heart pounds. “What do you mean, he told Bennett? Like, he said it flat out?”

“Kind of. I mean, it was in boy talk. They said ‘dude' a lot and ‘yeah, she's cool' and that kind of thing.”

“And what did Bennett say?” I ask.

She waits a second to answer. “He was just, like, ‘Cool, go for it.' ”

“Really?” My entire heart slips away like an ice cream cone dropped on a hot sidewalk.

If Bennett doesn't care, then he doesn't like me the way I thought he did. I know I wasn't sure how I felt about him, but it still stings to know he doesn't like
me
.

My mind spins in circles like the spiral paintings we used to do on the boardwalk.

Micayla yawns. “Yeah, but you know how guys are. Don't stress about it. I probably shouldn't have told you.”

“No, it's okay. Mic, I'm feeling sleepy now, actually. See you tomorrow morning. Ten o'clock, Dog Beach, okay?”

“Okay,” she says. “Nighty-night.”

I can't believe Bennett would say that to Calvin. I don't know how I'll face him tomorrow. And I don't know how I'll face Calvin, either. Plus, I'm worried about Claire.

There are so many problems surrounding the people on our dog-sitting team, and I don't know how to fix any of them.

I'm so tired the next morning that a whole day
with the dogs seems like running a marathon in high heels.

Bennett texts me and suggests a swimming lesson for later in the day, but I tell him no. I don't have the energy to swim. More important, I don't have the energy to worry about a swimming lesson with Bennett.

“Come on, Mari,” I say. She's tired, too, and frankly kind of annoyed that I kept her up last night. She growls at me, which she never, ever does.

“Stop. I'm sorry. I had things on my mind,” I say to her.

Her growl turns into a whimper, and she nudges my calf with her nose as we walk to Dog Beach.

“Thanks for understanding,” I tell her.

We get to Dog Beach, and Calvin, Claire, and a few of the dogs are already there. I sit down on the bench with Marilyn
Monroe and take longer than necessary to get out her treats and her special water bowl. I don't want to go over to the others. I don't know how to act. And then it occurs to me—I wonder if Claire knows that Calvin likes me. I mean, if it's even true that he likes me.

It seems too crazy to be true. I don't think Micayla would lie about it, but it just doesn't seem to make sense.

I'm filling up Marilyn Monroe's bowl with the spring water she likes (she's very particular) when Claire comes over.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey.” I look up and smile. “How are you?”

“Good,” she says. “I don't want you to always look at me like I'm about to cry. Okay?”

“I didn't realize I was doing that. Sorry.”

“You don't always do it,” she clarifies. “But sometimes you do. And it's annoying.”

“Got it.” The truth is, now I feel like
I'm
about to cry. Hearing that I'm doing something annoying feels like I just poked a thumbtack into my finger.

“Anyway, what's going on with you?” she asks.

I look over at Marilyn Monroe, who has fallen asleep on the sand. “We both had insomnia last night,” I explain.

“I'll bring over a lounge chair for you,” she says. “I can take the early shift.”

“That's kind of you, but I think I should be alert and ready for the clients. And remember what happened last time we lounged too long?”

She looks at me, confused.

“The whole Marilyn Monroe Mornings incident.” Last summer Mari got too wild at Mornings one day, and let's just say that she was not welcomed back. “We were too groggy from sleep to think clearly!”

Claire cracks up. “Okay, well, maybe you need a latte or something.”

Claire's one of those kids who drinks coffee sometimes, and I've tried it, but I don't really like the taste. Maybe a Coke, though. I'll definitely need a Coke later.

Claire goes to greet Rascal and Atticus when Paul and Andi drop them off, and I close my eyes for a second. When I open them, Calvin is sitting next to me.

“Hey,” he says. “Slacking again?”

“Again?” I glare at him. “I'm not sure I know what you're talking about.”

“I'm kidding,” he says. “What's up?”

I don't know where to look, where to focus my eyes. Anywhere but on Calvin. “Not much, really.” I force an awkward smile. “I wanted to talk to you, actually. And it seems like it's never just the two of us. I'm worried about Claire.”

He sighs. “Yeah, she's having a tough time.”

I wait for him to say more, or to say how he's feeling, but he doesn't.

“How are you doing?” I ask.

He gives me a look, as if there's absolutely no reason for me to be asking that. “Fine. I'm fine.”

I get the sense that he wants to put an end to this conversation. This may have been the longest chat I've ever had with Calvin, and it feels impossible to keep it going.

“I got you something, and I keep forgetting to give it to you,” he says. “My dad took me to this used bookstore before we came to Seagate. I saw a book there that I knew you had to have.”

“What is it? I can't take the suspense.”

He pulls a tiny book out of the pocket of his cargo shorts and hands it to me. Its title is
Understanding Your Dog: A Breed-by-Breed Guide.

“Wow, thanks.”

“I figured it would be good for you to have. You know, because we have some new clients and stuff. This will give us some insight into the different breeds and everything.”

“Yeah, definitely.” I flip through the book. “Maybe it'll help us figure out why Lester is going through some kind of emotional crisis. Oh, look at this! A quiz! We can take it and find out which breed is right for us.”

He laughs. “You can become a dog matchmaker. You'll help people find their ideal canine companion!”

“You're totally on to something! If my doggie day care business doesn't work out, I'll try dog matchmaking.”

I start asking Calvin the quiz questions, and the awkwardness melts away. It feels normal to be hanging out with him. Fun, even.

And then Claire comes over to us with her hands on her hips and says, “What are you guys laughing about? You sound like hyenas.”

“Nothing. I just gave Remy that book I found when Dad took us to that cool used bookstore in Amenia.”

“Oh. Yeah. Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Dad will probably never take us anywhere ever again. We should have appreciated it more when he took us places.”

Calvin digs the toe of his sneaker into the sand. “Dramatic much? I'm sure he'll take us other places.”

“I wouldn't be so sure,” Claire says, and the awkwardness comes back. I don't know what to say. “Anyway, are you guys gonna help watch the dogs? Or you're on vacation here? Because Lester and Ritzy are growling at each other again, Oreo won't stop peeing, and Rascal just ate a whole salad of seaweed. And, frankly, Marilyn Monroe looks really bored by it all.”

Her last two points don't surprise me. Rascal is always eating the wrong things. The Newfoundland manages to find a way into the other dogs' food, even though he has pretty specific dietary restrictions. And Marilyn Monroe is always bored when I'm not around. She needs constant entertainment.

It was so sweet of Calvin to bring me that book. And it has me thinking about something else: he brought up his dad to me. He never does that.

The three of us walk over to the dogs, and the situation is
worse than I expected. Rascal is lying on the ground, whimpering. His stomach bobs in and out.

“I think he's dehydrated. I'm trying to get him to drink, but he won't,” Micayla says. “We should take him home.”

“What did he eat?” I ask. “Besides the seaweed?”

Micayla clenches her teeth as if she doesn't want to tell me. “He got into some of Atticus's treats. He can't have those, because he has some kind of gluten allergy.”

“Dogs have gluten allergies, too?” Claire says. “That's ridiculous!”

“No, it's true,” Micayla explains. She's really taken ownership of Rascal and Atticus this summer. I think she feels closer to them since Paul was her teacher last year. “I'm going to call Mr. Jennings and Andi.”

“No, don't!” I yell, and then I lower my voice. “They'll think we're not capable of taking care of the dogs. We can't have that. We need to handle this ourselves.”

“Well, you should have been paying more attention,” Micayla says, annoyed at me. “You were on the bench relaxing, and then this happened. Bennett and I were here by ourselves with all the dogs.”

“Hey! What am I? Chopped liver?” Claire says, and then she starts laughing. “My grandpa says that all the time. I don't even get it, but it's funny.”

“You weren't paying attention, either,” Micayla reminds her. “Sorry, but it's true.”

“Okay, guys, calm down,” Bennett says. “Let's think about
this. I'll try to get Rascal to drink some water from his bowl. Things will be easier to figure out if we stay calm.”

I take a deep breath and rub Rascal's back. And then I remember: Josh!

The improv troupe guy. He's studying at Yale to be a vet. He knows things about dogs. He said so himself.

“Rascal seems really weak. He can barely lift up his head.” Bennett looks up at me. “I don't think I've ever seen him like this.”

“Remy, I don't think we should ignore this,” Micayla says.

She's right. I messed up, and I need to handle it.

Atticus looks worried, pacing back and forth on the sand. All the dogs are concerned, actually. They're hovering around the Newfoundland, and they won't do any of their activities. Oreo keeps nudging Rascal with his nose, and he doesn't even respond.

“Okay, we have to do something,” I admit finally. “That kid Josh said he knows some stuff about dogs. Maybe he can help.”

Thankfully, Josh answers his phone. He's finishing up breakfast at Mornings. He says he'll come right over.

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