Salamander Girl

Three

The first thing I did when I got home was feed Sammy. The last thing I wanted was Doctor Christian's salamander dying on my watch. Science grades aside, I loved animals. One key reason why I want the same job as my mom and dad when I grew up

Once I had Sammy happily snacking on a few little worms from the vet shop also run by my parents, I sat down at my laptop with some oreos- a snack much more suited to my own tastes- and tried to write.

"Samanthaaaa!" Abby called.

Being a good big sister, I resisted the groan that built up at the back of my throat.

"Whaaaat?"

"Where's the calculator?"

"It's in mom's office!"

"I just looked there!" Abby shrieked indignantly from the kitchen.

"Well then I don't know where it is!"

"Can I borrow yours?"

"No, I'm using it!" I fibbed, typing random characters loudly.

Abby growled, and Ammon's eyes peered around my bedroom doorframe.

"Hey Ammon," I shot a quick smile at him before quickly turning back to the Microsoft Word document containing my latest story. One that Joshua had helped me come up with.

"That doesn't look like math," Ammon pointed out sneakily.

"Shhhh!" I hissed, hoping that Abby didn't hear. I love my little brother and sister, I really do, but they didn't exactly have a history of treating my stuff with respect, or actually returning it when they were done.

"What's that?" My little brother was quickly distracted by the terrarium on top of my private bookshelf.

"That's my teacher's pet. I'm going to take care of him while my teacher's in the hospital."

"Like mommy and daddy do?"

"Yeah, only Sammy's not sick."

Ammon's face screwed up in confusion. "I thought you didn't like to be called Sammy, Sammy."

I laughed, spinning around in my pink flowered swivel chair. 

"That's the salamanders name." I explained through fits of giggles.

"I wanna see! I wanna see!" Ammon chanted. Without waiting for help, he grabbed my skateboard, which was leaning against the side of the bookshelf, and placed it on the floor.

"Ammon-!" I dived across her wooden floor to catch my adorable idiot brother and the terrarium as the skateboard skid across the room and crashed into the wall.

"That doesn't sound like math!" Abby shouted accusingly.

"Yes it does!" Ammon and I defended quickly.

A second later, Abigail blocked the doorway, her blue bangs separated from the rest of her hair in a ponytail. 

"Givvit. Now." She demanded.

I sighed, setting the rattled terrarium on the desk next to my laptop computer and rummaging through my backpack for the ugly yellow TI-85 calculator.

"Thank you," Abigail said stiffly. In fifth grade, she was already taking Algebra. 

I leaned against her desk, missing Joshua. He'd been gone for two weeks now and it already felt like everything had gone downhill. Of course, that's what happens when your best friend leaves. 

"What am I gonna do with you goobers?" I asked Ammon.

The little boy's face lit up with a smile. "Take us skateboarding!" 

There was an impromptu stampede out in the hall, and suddenly Abigail was back in my doorway.

"Are you going to? Honest-to-goodness?"

Not for the first time that day, I sighed. 

Slowly, it turned into a smile.

"Go get your helmets."

-------

"You little goober, you got dirt in my contacts!" Abigail yelled, marching up the back stairs an hour later.

"I said I sorry!" Ammon blubbered, close to tears.

"Come on you two," I begged. No matter how much I threatened, cajoled, pleaded, and waited, every "siblings outing" inevitably ended with me or Ammon getting on Abigail's nerves. Why couldn't they be close, like Dad and Uncle Josh? Or mom and all ten of her siblings?

"I brought dinner! Who wants Chinese?" Mom and Dad's jobs often ran late, making them unable to prepare dinner. That was fine with me, they were both terrible cooks anyway. I liked to make my own food to ensure that it wasn't poisoned. Most of the time, however, we got takeout or Grandma Abate dropped off leftovers to last us half a month.

"Mooooom!" Abigail shouted, even though Mom was right there in the kitchen with her. I slammed the screen door shut and squeezed Ammon's shoulder.

"Shut your mouth and sit down, Abigail." Ruth Smith told her daughter.

"But Ammon-" I stifled cruel giggles when Dad shoved a spring roll- one of the family's favorites- into Abigail's mouth. A moment later, she'd reluctantly agreed to leave the spat until after dinner.

Dad asked Ammon to say the prayer over the food, and I could feel Abigail's leg next to mine. Bouncing up and down impatiently as she waited for Ammon to finish. He was only four, he took a while. The moment that the rest of us said "Amen," she dove for another roll 

"Did you two thank Samantha for bringing you to the skate park?" 

"Thank you Samantha!" Ammon and Abigail immediately chorused through mouthfuls of rice. I wasn't much better than them, I'll admit, laying claim to the Cashew Chicken before Dad could get his serving.

"So how was school today?" Dad asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

"Good," Abigail muttered.

"At, at, at preschool, we made, we drew butterflies!" Ammon said, stumbling over his words in his excitement.

I stabbed a cashew with my fork.

"What did you do as school, Samantha?" Mom asked from the other end of the table.

I stuffed my forkful into my mouth.

Mom eyed me suspiciously. "Sister Dover says that Lexi came home with another A-plus on her biology test today. Did you get your test back too?" 

I looked at the floor, then at the ceiling, and back again.

"I got a D." I mumbled, biting into a spring roll.

"Oh Samantha," Mom sounded more disappointed than Doctor Christian did.

"Fortunately, my teacher gave me a make-up-slash-extra-credit project."

"Oh?" Mom's dangerous tone had a curious edge to it.

I nodded quickly. "I'm watching his salamander while he's recovering from surgery."

Mom looked at Dad, but Jacob was staring intently at the noodles on his paper plate.

"Well, I hope you do a good job."

I nodded to my cashew chicken. "I hope so too."