New Beginnings Read online

  Josh is right behind me, and when he falls forward into me, he pushes me into the seat beside her. Even worse, his muffin flies up in the air. I can’t believe this is happening. I drop the folder and try to catch the jam-covered muffin. But I miss it, and it goes right past me, skimming the edge of the red-haired girl’s towel and cardboard box. The muffin disappears near our feet. I’m hoping it didn’t land on the file folder.

  The girl beside me is still and silent. The word livid from last year’s spelling bee comes to mind. I can’t make myself look at her, so I look at Josh instead. He found a spot to sit across from me, one seat back.

  When the girl beside me leans over her shoe box to look at her feet, the box buckles even more. I look, too. Josh’s upside-down muffin on the floor would be bad enough. But this is worse. It missed the file folder, but it’s upside down on her sneaker.

  “Oh,” I say, grabbing the file folder and stuffing the now-wrinkled papers back into it. “I’m so sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. It was an accident.”

  She gasps. There’s a brief moment of silence before she yells, “You ruined everything!”

  Okay, this is bad, but it’s just a shoe. I don’t know why she is freaking out.

  “Sorry,” Josh says. He tries to hand her the paper towel he is still holding, even though it’s covered in jam from the muffin.

  “Get away! Both of you, just get away!”

  “Don’t yell at my brother,” I say. “You can wash your sneaker.”

  “I don’t care about my shoe. Look what you did to my science project! I’ve been working on it for weeks. You crushed it!”

  The bus driver looks at us in his rearview mirror. In fact, I’m sure everyone on the bus is looking at us. I bet my face is as red as the strawberry jam.

  Another girl behind us peeks over and under the seat, then she asks the redhead, “Are those the sneakers your cousin sent you from Hollywood?”

  “Yeah,” the redhead says.

  Hollywood? Please, who buys their shoes in Hollywood? Who does she think she is?

  “Come to my locker when we get to school,” the other girl says. “I have an extra pair of sneakers.”

  “Thanks,” the redhead says, loud enough for the whole bus to hear. “What I’m going to need is glue and a whole new science project. If I get a bad grade, I’ll be grounded for life. “

  Josh leans toward her and turns on his charm. Once more he says, “We’re really sorry—”

  “Don’t talk to me,” the redhead says, lifting the towel and peeking at her project. Then she tries to kick the muffin onto my shoes.

  Josh convinces the kid next to him to move back a row when the driver isn’t looking.

  “Jules,” he says, motioning to the empty spot next to him.

  Josh and I slump in tandem beside each other.

  “Well, things can only get better now,” Josh whispers to me, trying to make me smile.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  I hate that we have to start all over again in a new middle school. I hate riding the school bus. I hate that girl. And it’s pretty clear that she hates me, too.

  Chapter Three

  We find the office. At least the school secretary welcomes us.

  “Just in time,” she says. “Principal Phillips was just heading out. Mr. Phillips, these are our new students I told you about, Julia and Joshua Darrow.”

  “Hello, hello,” the principal says. “Great to have you here. Sorry to rush off, but we’ve got an overflowing water fountain and a miniflood in the gym.” Then he hurries out the door.

  Two students about our age come in, and the secretary introduces us to David Hutchinson, who will be Josh’s school buddy for the day, and Sunita Patel, who will show me around. Josh and I briefly compare schedules, but we have no classes together. I was afraid of that. The trouble is, twins aren’t usually put together in the same classes. Mom says it’s because separating twins helps them become independent. So I’ll be on my own, except for lunch.

  I wait for Josh to say something first. His friendly personality usually puts everyone at ease, including me. But after the whole school bus fiasco, he’s quieter than usual.

  David asks, “Where are you from?”

  “Pittsburgh,” Josh answers. But that’s it. He doesn’t say more than that.

  Our morning didn’t get off to a great start, but David and Sunita seem nice. Sunita is pretty with long black hair and a friendly smile. She rolls her eyes as David jokes about “making pit stops in Pittsburgh.” David has a loud voice, just like my little sister, Sophie. Josh smiles. Once Josh starts feeling better, they’ll get along just great.

  The bell rings. “See you at lunch,” I tell Josh.

  But as we walk down the hall, Sunita looks at my schedule and says, “We have alternating lunch periods here. You might or might not see your brother at lunchtime.”

  “Oh,” I say.

  Sunita must sense the dread in my voice. She looks right at me.

  “Don’t worry,” she says.

  “I can’t help it,” I say. “I’m not good at meeting new people.”

  “Just think positive,” Sunita says. “Besides, I’ve got the same lunch period as you, so look for me if you don’t see Josh. And really, everyone is so friendly here, you’ll make lots of friends right away, I’m sure.”

  Everyone is so friendly? Clearly she doesn’t know the mean red-headed girl from the bus. I’m about to say something, but Sunita locks elbows with me and says, “Hurry, now.”

  She steers me through the crowded halls, upstairs to Room 202. “You have Mr. Hart, the same science teacher I had last year. You’re going to love his class!”

  I bet Sunita is one of those people who never feels lost and always knows what to do and say. I’m one of those people who never knows what to say, so I say nothing. Then people think I’m a snob. Or if I do say something, half the time I blurt out the wrong thing and embarrass myself.

  Sunita is right about Mr. Hart. His science room is filled with animals. Live animals. Lots of them—a corn snake, a bearded dragon lizard, a tarantula, and the most adorable lop-eared rabbit I have ever seen. The rabbit is small, and that makes its big floppy ears hanging down all the sweeter.

  Sunita introduces me to Mr. Hart, and he points me to an empty chair near the rabbit. She walks me all the way to my desk, then whispers, “We’ll talk after class. I gotta run, but I’ll be back to guide you to all your classes through lunch.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  Sunita’s positive attitude must be rubbing off on me. Plus, I feel ten times more relaxed being around all of Mr. Hart’s animals. I’m so close to the bunny, I can’t help smiling. Things are looking up.

  I sit in the empty chair next to the furry little rabbit. She must be a dwarf. She’s hopping, then hiding under a little basket. She pokes her cute nose out from under the basket and sniffs the air, wiggling her whiskers. She tilts her head and looks right at me. I can’t wait to pet her.

  “Welcome back, everybody. We have a new student today who has just moved to Ambler. Please welcome your new classmate, Julia,” Mr. Hart says.

  “Jules,” I say.

  Everyone turns to stare at me. A few kids nod and smile, but I avoid their eyes by looking at the rabbit.

  “Okay, then. Welcome, Jules,” Mr. Hart says. “Now, our first order of business today is to review the science tests you took before spring break.”

  He hands back the tests to some groans from the class. Of course I don’t have a test, but he tells me to look on with the girl across the aisle from me. She halfheartedly moves her desk closer to mine, but then she starts doodling on her paper. I don’t blame her.

  Mr. Hart drones on and on about the importance of rocks, sediments, and fossils. I try to listen at first, but I’m having a hard time p
aying attention. I can’t stop looking at the dwarf rabbit with her long, floppy ears. The tiny V of her mouth is surrounded by the softest-looking brown and white fur and the most adorable little bunny chin. She’s out from under her basket and sniffing around the cage. I wish I had a carrot or something to feed her.

  I reach through the wire cage with my fingers. Curious, she hops closer and sniffs me. Her whiskers tickle and I can’t help smiling, but I hold my fingers still. She tilts her head, and I stroke the spot on the top of her head between her ears. She leans closer to my hand and now I can reach her velvety ears, warm and soft. The grid of the cage is too small to reach my hand all the way through to pet her. I study the latch on the front of the cage to see if I can open it quietly. Mr. Hart is still lecturing about geologic processes.

  I open the little hook very slowly so I won’t scare the bunny and so the hook won’t make any noise. She hops away when I reach in, but when I hold my hand still, she comes back toward me. She lets me pet her soft fur, first on her head and ears again, then down her back. I want to take her out of her cage and put her on my lap. School would be so much easier if we could bring our own pets. That’s what I’m thinking when I realize Mr. Hart isn’t talking anymore. No one is talking or doing anything because everyone, including Mr. Hart, is staring at me.

  Uh-oh. Now what have I done?

  I slowly pull my hand out of the cage. “Sorry,” I say. I latch the catch securely.

  “Wow,” says the girl across the aisle. “Chewie let you pet her?”

  “Chewie?” I ask.

  “Yeah, Chewie. That’s her name.” She points to the bunny.

  “She didn’t try to bite you?” another kid asks.

  “No, why?” I ask.

  “It appears we have a bunny whisperer among us,” Mr. Hart announces.

  Several students laugh.

  “All I did was pet her,” I say.

  “Yes, but no one has been able to pet her since we got her two months ago. She bites and scratches and is a bit of a nervous Nellie. You’re the first person, as far as we know, who she’s let pet her.”

  “Oh,” I say. I look at Chewie and she looks back at me, cute and innocent.

  “Do you have rabbits or other pets at home?” Mr. Hart asks.

  My face warms. “No,” I say. “But I volunteered at the animal shelter in Pittsburgh. I’m very good with animals.”

  “I can see that,” Mr. Hart says, rubbing his chin. “Chewie needs a new home. She isn’t getting along with the students. Maybe you’d like to give it a try.”

  “That’d be great,” I say.

  “You’ll need your parents’ permission of course.”

  “I’m sure my parents will agree,” I say. What am I thinking? Dad might agree. But Mom? I’ll need all the help I can get to convince her. I have to talk to Josh as soon as possible.

  “All right, Jules from Pittsburgh,” Mr. Hart says, “please see me after class. We’ll discuss the details.”

  Mr. Hart begins to make another announcement about some kind of upcoming streams cleanup event, but I’m having a hard time paying attention. I can’t stop smiling and looking at Chewie, who has one ear up and one ear down. She looks like she is smiling, too. It’s a goofy little smile, with her front teeth sticking out just a tiny bit.

  Finally I’ll have a pet to care for. I start thinking about building Chewie a bigger home than the little cage she’s in now. This cage might be good for carrying her safely from one place to another and maybe for sleeping at night. But I learned at the Pittsburgh shelter that all animals, including rabbits, need enough space to run or hop around and play. I’ll make her a tunnel, agility ramps, and hidey holes, too.

  Science class zips by. The more I think about having Chewie as a pet, the more excited I get. The morning that started out so badly is definitely looking up.

  Chapter Four

  Sunita 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.