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“A puppy is a lot of work. Who’s going to feed him and walk him and house-train him?” #52 | | |
“I’ll do it. I’ll do it all. I’m responsible enough to take care of it on my own.” #53 | | |
I snuggle closer to her. I love the way Kitty’s head smells after she’s had a bath. “Ha! You don’t even do the dishes ever. And you never clean your room. And when have you ever helped fold laundry even once in your life? I mean, really, if you don’t do any of those things, how you can be responsible for another living creature?” #54 | | |
Kitty shoves me off. “Then I’ll help more!” #55 | | |
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” #56 | | |
“If I help out more, will you help me convince Daddy about the puppy?” #57 | | |
“If you help out more,” I agree. “If you can prove to me you’re not a baby anymore.” Kitty will be ten in January. That’s plenty old enough to help out around the house. Margot babies her too much, I think. “I’m putting you in charge of emptying the upstairs trash cans once a week. And helping with the laundry.” #58 | | |
“So . . . would I get a raise in my allowance?” #59 | | |
“No. The incentive is me helping you convince Daddy to get a dog, and also you not being so babyish anymore.” I fluff up my pillow. “By the way, I’m sleeping in here tonight.” #60 | | |
Kitty gives me a swift kick and I almost fall out of the bed. “You’re the babyish one, not me, Lara Jean.” #61 | | |
“Just let me sleep in here one night!” #62 | | |
“You take up all the covers.” #63 | | |
Kitty tries to kick me again, but I make my body heavy and pretend I’m already asleep. Soon we both fall asleep for real. #64 | | |
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Sunday night I’m doing my homework in bed when I get a call from a number I don’t recognize. “Hello?” #66 | | |
“Hey. What are you doing?” #67 | | |
“Um . . . sorry, but who’s this?” #68 | | |
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“Oh. How did you get my number?” #70 | | |
“Don’t worry about it.” #71 | | |
There’s a longish silence. It’s agonizing, every millisecond that ticks by with neither of us talking, but I don’t know what to say. “So, what did you want?” #72 | | |
Peter laughs. “You’re so awk, Covey. Your car’s in the shop, right? So how about I pick you up for school?” #73 | | |
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“Bye,” I say, and I hang up. #78 | | |
