New Beginnings (3 page)

Chapter Four

S
unita is right there after science class, and she stays with me while I talk to Mr. Hart. Sunita smiles and gives me a thumbs-up when she hears I'm going to bring Chewie home. She's so nice, and she looks truly happy for me.

“You're lucky it's a cute bunny that needs a home,” Sunita says. “Last summer, Mr. Hart was looking for someone to take care of the class snake!”

Mr. Hart chuckles and hands me a folder about rabbit care. He tells me I need a letter from my parents giving their permission and saying that we all understand what's required to be a responsible pet owner of Chewie. I'm worried about Mom agreeing. What if she says we don't have any extra money for pet supplies?

Then Mr. Hart says, “Tell your parents that if this works out long term, you can have the cage, litter box, and water bottle, too.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hart. Thank you!” I say. I can't wait to tell Josh.

“I have to warn you,” Mr. Hart says. “Several students before you have taken Chewie home, and unfortunately those trials all ended in disaster. She's not the tamest of bunnies. I see you have a way with animals, and that's great. But this is more or less Chewie's last chance with us. If it doesn't work out, she might need to go to a rabbit rescue foster home.”

“I'm sure it will work,” I say as the kids in Mr. Hart's next class start filing in. “I helped socialize lots of cats when I volunteered at the shelter in Pittsburgh.”

“Okay, then,” Mr. Hart says. “Bring me a note from your parents and we'll let you do your bunny whisperer magic.”

Sunita and I laugh about my being a bunny whisperer as she pulls me quickly through the hall to my next class, which is language arts.

“I'm so excited for you,” Sunita says. “Chewie is adorable. Are you sure your mom and dad will let you adopt her?”

“Yes,” I say. “They promised we could get a pet once we were settled. And with a free cage and all, I'm sure they'll agree. Plus, Josh is very convincing. They always listen to him. Hopefully I can talk to Josh at lunch and we can call home. My parents know I'm good with animals. Maybe my mom will write the permission note today and pick Chewie up with us at the end of the day. Otherwise, tomorrow, for sure.”

“That's great,” Sunita says. “It took me forever to convince my mom to let me adopt a cat. But she finally agreed.”

“You have a cat? Oh, I love cats! You're so lucky. I wish I had a cat, too.”

“Yes, her name is Mittens.”

My language arts teacher is talking to a couple of students in the hall when we reach my classroom, so Sunita stays and sits with me at an empty table in the back. “I'd like to meet Mittens,” I say to Sunita. “What does she look like?”

“She's a black tuxedo cat with white paws. You'll have to come over someday to see her. Did you really volunteer at the shelter?”

I nod.

“Then we have a lot in common,” Sunita says. “I have twins in my family, too. They're only five, but they're fraternal twins, like you and your brother. My brother's name is Harshil and my sister is Jasmine.”

Sunita understands twins! “I have a little sister, too,” I say. “Sophie is six. What else do we have in common?”

“Well,” Sunita says. “I volunteer also. At the local veterinary clinic—Dr. Mac's Place. A bunch of us help with cleaning up and caring for the animals there. David does, too.”

“Wow, I'd love to do something like that,” I say. “Could you introduce me to Dr. Mac?”

“Sure,” Sunita says. “But I can do better than that. I'll introduce you to Maggie. Dr. Mac is Maggie's grandmother. Maggie lives with Dr. Mac right there at the clinic. Maggie is super nice and goes to school here. All the Vet Volunteers are great.”

“Wow, Vet Volunteers. How many of you are there?”

“Five of us usually—Maggie, David, Zoe, Brenna, and me. And sometimes, if it's really busy, a younger girl named Taryn helps out. I'm not sure if Dr. Mac has room for more, but we can ask. Sometimes Zoe is out of town staying with her mom, and David is busy at the horse stables. Let's ask Maggie and see what she thinks.”

I can't wait to meet Maggie, and to tell Josh about Chewie. Once we convince Mom and Dad to adopt our very own rabbit, Ambler might not be so bad after all. Plus, if I have a pet of my own, I'll be able to show Dr. Mac how good I am with animals.

“May I see the bunny facts?” Sunita asks.

“Sure,” I say, opening the folder Mr. Hart gave me.

Sunita smiles and points to the cute pictures of bunnies grooming themselves and using the litter box. “Just like Mittens,” she says.

We read about how friendly, social, and smart rabbits are and the way they like to be petted.

“Oh, I didn't know rabbits don't usually like to be picked up or held on your lap,” I say.

“Me neither,” Sunita says. “Looks like rabbits have different personalities, too. It says some are shy, some friendly, some calm, some nervous, some playful and curious.”

I don't say it out loud but I think that if I were a rabbit, I'd be the shy, nervous type. Josh, of course, would be the friendly bunny.

“Chewie seems friendly and outgoing. I don't know why everyone is so afraid of her,” I say. “You should have seen her in class. She kept poking her nose through the bars of the cage, standing on her hind feet, and begging me to pet her. She's so alert and curious. And clean. She's so cute the way she washes one ear at a time with both of her paws.”

“Sweet,” Sunita says. “Uh-oh, did you see this?” She points to a paragraph in bold type about how rabbits like to chew on everything, including furniture and electric cords.

Uh-oh is right. Mom will not like that.

“Maybe that's why she's named Chewie?” Sunita says. “Oops, gotta go now.”

My teacher finally comes in and assigns me to an empty desk. Sunita waves to me from the door and mouths, “See you later.”

My teacher leads a discussion about a book I have already read. She asks questions, and I know the answers. But I don't know any of the kids in the class. I keep my hand down and my eyes on my desk so she won't call on me. I'm still the shy, nervous bunny.

During silent reading, the teacher suggests I pick a book from the back of the room. I nod and pick one, but I have a hard time focusing. Instead, I think about Chewie and how fun it'll be to have her as my very own pet. I pull out my notebook and start a list of ways to convince Mom to let me keep Chewie.

I'll have to think of a way to keep Mom and Dad's furniture safe from Chewie, and Chewie safe from any electrical cord danger. I'll build a bunny-proof environment for her. I draw a simple sketch of the room I share with Sophie and where Chewie's cage and play area will be. There is also a coupon in the folder for Chewie to be spayed at Dr. Mac's when she is old enough. I wonder how old she is now. I'll have to ask Mr. Hart.

The rest of the morning goes great, until lunch, that is. The cafeteria food is bland. The pizza has no flavor, and the carrots have no crunch. The only good thing about lunch is Sunita. She shares some of her homemade lentils. They are spicy but good. Mom used to have time to make our lunches. Not anymore. I don't see Josh anywhere, so Sunita was right. Josh and I are scheduled for different times on the alternating lunch period. Sunita looks around, but she can't find Maggie, either. Lunch is almost over.

“If Maggie is in any of your afternoon classes, maybe you can tell her about me,” I say to Sunita as we finish our lunches.

“Wait, let me see your schedule again,” Sunita says. “The only class Maggie and I are in together is gym, but we don't have it today. Gym meets every other day. Maggie and I are on the Tuesday-Thursday block schedule for gym. And team sports meet every day after school, too. Maggie's a great athlete. She's on the basketball team. Do you play team sports?”

“Not me,” I say, and hand my schedule to Sunita. “Block scheduling is kind of confusing.”

“Don't worry, it'll make sense soon. My first week here I was completely lost. You're doing great.” Sunita studies my schedule again. I'm glad she understands. “At Ambler, the girls and boys have separate gym classes, but the classes are mixed with kids from all the grades,” she explains. “Great, look—you're on the same Tuesday-Thursday gym schedule as Maggie and me! So I can introduce you tomorrow afternoon for sure.”

“Thanks,” I say, but I'm disappointed I won't meet Maggie today.

Sunita smiles and says, “And there is only one Maggie in the whole school. So if you see or hear someone talking to a Maggie, that'll be her. Just introduce yourself. She's great.”

I hope I'll have the courage to talk to Maggie on my own. She sounds like someone I'd really like to have as a friend.

Chapter Five

A
fter lunch, Sunita walks with me up the super-crowded stairway to my study skills class on the third floor.

“What luck,” Sunita says. “There she is!” She grabs my arm and pulls me through the crowd.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” Sunita says as we weave our way up the stairs.

I'm excited, but it's so crowded that I can't figure out which girl is Maggie.

Uh-oh, I see the mean red-haired girl from the bus ahead of us. I let go of Sunita and go slower, hanging back, hoping that the red-haired girl will keep going and not notice me. Sunita waves to someone.

“Maggie, wait up!” Sunita calls out.

The red-haired girl stops and turns around.

Oh no. My heart sinks.

This couldn't possibly be Sunita's friend Maggie. But Sunita said there was only one Maggie in the whole school. So it must be the one and only Maggie, whose grandma is the veterinarian.

Yep, it's her.

Maggie gives me a look, but waits for us to catch up in the hall at the top of the stairs. I know I should say something, but we already got off to such a bad start I'm worried that I might make it worse.

Luckily, Sunita jumps in and starts talking. “This is Jules,” she says to Maggie. “She and her family just moved here. I'm her school buddy today.”

Sunita turns to me and says, “Maggie's grandmother is Dr. Mac—she runs the veterinary clinic.”

“Um, we sort of met,” I start, not knowing what to say. “I kind of accidentally ruined her science project on the bus this morning.” I turn to Maggie. “I'm Jules. And I'm still sorry.”

“Hi,” Maggie replies. She doesn't seem happy to be talking to me, but she's not yelling at me, either.

“Will you be at the clinic after school today?” Sunita asks her. “Dr. Mac asked me to come in and help feed the abandoned kittens.”

“Those kittens are cute, but man, do they need a lot of attention!” Maggie says, smiling. “But I'm not on kitten duty today. I have tutoring and then basketball practice, so I won't be home until dinnertime.”

“You're a tutor?” I ask hurriedly. Maybe this is a chance for me to connect with Maggie on something. “That's cool. Sometimes I help my little sister, Sophie, with her homework. Maybe I could be a tutor, too.” I'm about to ask Maggie more about it, but she's giving me a not-so-friendly look.

“I
have
a tutor,” Maggie says. “Not that it's any of your business.” All traces of her smile are totally gone now. “See you later, Sunita,” she says, walking off.

I don't know what to say. Having a tutor is nothing to be embarrassed or mad about, but once again I've stumbled into making Maggie mad at me. How could this keep happening? And how am I going to fix it?

I don't feel like talking much after that. Sunita is still friendly. She says, “I'm glad you and Maggie have met,” but she doesn't say anything more about my chances of being a Vet Volunteer.

A few minutes later, Sunita and I arrive at room 307. I'm feeling lousy about messing up with Maggie again and am not really looking forward to a whole new class full of students I don't know. I say good-bye to Sunita, take a deep breath, and open the door.

Everyone in the class turns to look at me.

The study skills teacher smiles, and tells me her name is Ms. Harris. “You must be Julia. Come on in,” she says. She asks if I want to say something about myself.

“No, not really. Although I prefer to be called Jules. Thanks,” I say, staying near the door.

“Please allow me to introduce you,” Ms. Harris says. “Class, this is Jules Darrow.”

A few of the kids smile at me.

“Jules,” the teacher says, “I usually have my new students fill out this survey for me.”

“What kind of survey?” I ask.

The teacher smiles again and holds out a packet of papers toward me. “It's to help determine your unique learning style,” she says. “So I can help you utilize the best study strategies.”

“Can I take it home to do it?” I ask.

Ms. Harris laughs, but it's not a mean laugh. “It will only take you a few minutes. And it's nothing to worry about. There are no right or wrong answers. You can fill it out here in the classroom, or if you want, you can use the desk in the hallway. Your fellow students will be practicing their oral reports in a moment, so that might be distracting.”

She walks closer to me and hands me the stapled papers. The rest of the class waits silently and stares at me. I look at the survey and wish I could disappear. I hate being the new kid.

The teacher whispers, but of course everyone hears her when she asks me, “Do you need some help getting started?”

I take a breath and look at my shoes. “I don't need any help,” I say quietly.

“Do you have a pen or pencil?”

I feel trapped in this room, just like the poor dogs at the shelter in Pittsburgh, pacing endlessly back and forth in their cages. I take a step toward the doorway. “I have a pen. I'll take the test in the hall, thanks.” It comes out more rushed than I planned, but I can't wait to get out of there. Why is meeting new people so hard for me?

The next few minutes I sit in the hall checking off boxes with
always, sometimes, often, rarely,
and
never.

It basically comes down to this:

I can answer
sometimes
for almost everything.
Sometimes
I like meeting new people. Especially new people like Sunita, who are friendly and put me at ease. Otherwise,
rarely. Sometimes
I like working with others, but
usually
it takes me a few weeks to feel comfortable. But I can't write all that down. I have to check one of the boxes instead.

For all the questions about doing schoolwork independently and on time, I check off
usually.
I don't want Ms. Harris to think I'm not a good student. I am.

Too bad there are no questions about understanding, helping, and being good with animals. That's something I could check
always
for. I browse my answers and look around the empty hallway. I don't want to be sitting out here when the bell rings. Finally I return to the classroom and turn my paper in to Ms. Harris. Even though she said there are no right or wrong answers, I wonder what she'll think about me. Honestly, I think my study skills are just fine. It's my people skills I keep messing up with. But again, there's no box on the survey to check off for that.