Girl's Best Friend

Chapter Two: Fights

I open the back door and walk into the warm kitchen. Mom, Dad, and Julia are all sitting impatiently at the table.
"Hannah, where were you?" Julia asks. "I'm hungry, and Dad said we had to wait for you. Mom said that you were just getting your backpack from the barn."
"Pack... pack!" Joey says. He is at that age where he copies everything you say. Personally, I think it's kind of annoying, but Mom says that he's learning and that we should encourage it.
Mom gives me squinty-eyes for the second time today. "Hannah, you said that you were just getting your backpack. Were you doing your homework in the loft again?"
I have been doing my homework in the loft lately. I am the only kid in the whole middle school, I'm sure, who actually likes doing homework. Once Kristine, a girl in my class, drove down our road with her dad when I was doing my homework on the front porch. She made fun of me, which I don't understand, because everyone does their homework, or should at least. Since then, I've been doing my homework in the privacy of the loft. I don't want to tell my family about the dog, so I use the excuse. "Yeah. Sorry, I just get so distracted." I say.
Mom sighs and rubs her temples. She's been doing that often. Suddenly, I feel sorry for lying. But I just sit down at the table and grab a chicken leg. When nobody is looking, I slip a piece of fat into the bag that is hooked over my shoulder. I keep slipping food into the bag until the meal is over.
"Um, I left my math book in the loft." I lie. Mom sighs. "Okay, Hannah, but be quick."
I scamper out the door and into the barn. The dog is asleep, curled up on the tarp. I get a good look at it. It's more like a puppy. It is small, with downy fur. I want to touch it, but I know I'll scare it. Instead, I leave the meat on a board near the puppy. I want to sit and watch it. Ok, Hannah, just two minutes, I decide. I look at my watch: it's 6:37. I sit on a bucket and watch it.
Its short legs twitch madly; it must be having some dream. Maybe it's chasing a rabbit, or running from a coyote.
6:39 comes too soon. I quietly leave the barn.

That night, before bed, I look up the dog. It's an Australian Shepherd. They are good sheepdogs. Or pigdogs. I think. I smile, imagining a time in the future when the dog is tame. It helps me herd pigs, and chases after the mean girls at school. I fall asleep, dreaming about my dog. My dog.

The next morning, I go out to the barn before school. The meat is gone. So is the dog, but it'll be back. I know it.
On the bus, I daydream about the puppy. I almost forget to get off the bus, and only Kristine's punch on my shoulder wakes me to reality.
In class, I don't pay attention, a first. When Mr. Jones asks me which is the only egg laying mammal, I answer "Dog. I- I mean platypus!"
Everyone laughs.
At lunch, I store some meatloaf in the front pocket of my backpack for the puppy. But I forget to zip the pocket back up and the meatloaf spills in the hall. Kristine walks past and notices. "Oh, no, Hannah!" she says in a fake-sad voice. "Don't tell me that your family is so poor that you need to bring home that disgusting free food every day? Your family must be desprate, to eat those school lunches!" She grinds the meatloaf under her feet.
I see red. I feel so angry that I lift up my arm, ready to hit her across the face. She screams, "Teacher!"
Ms. Kara gripps me by the arm. I try to explain. She just says, "We all saw you hit her, Hannah."
"No! I didn't hit her! I didn't, I was just threatening her! Honest!" I argue.
Ms. Kara just shakes her head.