Chapter 12

Only female mosquitoes can bite humans and other animals. Males eat flower nectar.

—Animal Wisdom

You know, I get that I’m only twelve and three hundred and sixty-three days old (booya, birthday tomorrow!) but I don’t get this! Boy mosquitoes get to go around LITERALLY smelling the flowers, while girls have to go out and do all the hard work? And drink blood?! Whatever happened to equality?

How to Survive a Skunk Attack: Ana’s Official DeSkunk Plan

(Which, by the way, is probably going to be the name of my autobiography when I’m an old geezer, because oh my God, this smell is never going to go away, is it?)

1. Forget the tomato sauce. According to Kate, my new friend and skunky-smelling pal, tomatoes do nothing but add an “Italian twist” to your already smelly problem. This is good because it means no disgusting tomato baths. This is bad because, duh, you still reek and you have to walk around with the nickname “Stinkpot.”

2. Invest in some of that orange-smelling floor cleaner. Apparently this is the only thing that will give you any hope of a normal life ever again. It won’t take the skunk smell away, but it will mask it enough that you can (hopefully) be in the same room as people without making anyone barf. (Always a plus, right?)

3. Wash your hair. Then wash it again. Then wash it again. Then when you’re tired of washing it again, WASH. IT. AGAIN.

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that a girl who’s been sprayed by a skunk named Calvin will also get a horrible grade on her Shakespeare test.

Okay. So I don’t actually know that’s true, but it’s exactly what happened to me the next day at school. I knew something was up because Mr. Nicholson gave me a weird half smile before the bell rang to dismiss us. Then I really knew when he handed out the tests and mine was facedown, with a big fat F on it, along with a red “See me please.”

Ugh.

Was anything worse than the “See me please”? You know they’re trying to be nice and understanding, but deep down you already feel like you want to climb in a hole because you botched up a test and disappointed them. Teachers should write “Need ice cream?” instead.

When class finished, I tried to make myself look busy, stuffing my notebook into my backpack. I didn’t exactly want Ashley or Bella to know why I had to linger behind. I’d seen their tests from my desk, and they’d booth gotten smiley face stickers, so I knew they’d done well.

Staring at my feet with my test rolled up in my hands, I shuffled to the front of the room after everyone had left. Mr. Nicholson was organizing papers on his desk.

“Ana!” he said, looking up. “Thanks for staying for a few minutes.” He gestured for me to take a seat.

“You said you wanted to see me,” I mumbled. My test felt like it weighed as much as an elephant in my hands. This was torture. “I mean, on my test. I know I didn’t do so well.”

He pursed his lips. “No, I’m afraid you didn’t. I know you had some issues with our Shakespeare reading. You know I’m here if you need some extra help.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know,” I said. “Honestly, I didn’t remember we were having a test. I know I should have studied…” My voice sounded as pathetic as I felt. “I’m so sorry. I never got such a bad grade before. I promise I’ll do better next time.” I forced myself to look him in the eye so he knew I meant it. It was taking every ounce of willpower not to break down and tear the paper into little bits for being so embarrassing.

“You don’t need to be sorry, but I will need you to get your parents to sign the test, okay? And don’t forget, you’ll have an opportunity to drop this mark with your media project!”

“Oh!” I said. Relief bubbled through me. “I totally forgot about that. That’s great. I’m doing a documentary,” I said. “It’s going to be amazing, I promise. Do I still need to get the test signed? I mean, if I can win the free grade, then…”

“That sounds wonderful! With your grandfather, I’m not surprised you picked film,” he replied. “But I’m afraid your parents will still need to see and sign your test. Don’t worry. We all have bad days.”

I tried to shrug, but it came out all twitchy. Would my F make me look like an idiot to all my new teachers when I went to high school next year? Grown-ups were always talking about our grades in junior high and how a bad grade can follow us all through high school. I didn’t want to look like a giant dumbo when I finally left eighth grade! And what about Kevin? I couldn’t exactly have a super-genius boyfriend if I’m getting Fs!

Suddenly, my F felt like more than a test result.

F is for failure.

F is for fell flat on her face.

F is for fat chance on keeping your smart boyfriend, Ana.

I shook my head, trying to shake off the thought. “I’ll get it signed,” I said, sitting taller. “But I’m also going to win, so I can ditch this grade.” I stuffed my test back into my pocket, eager to get it out of sight.

As I walked down the hallway, a twinge of doubt rang through me. One time when we were younger, I built a house of cards with Daz. We worked so hard to be super careful and had to get every card right so when we finally put that last card on the top it was perfect. That’s how I felt working on my documentary now—like if I slipped up even once or made a wrong move, my life would plummet to the ground in a spectacular mess.

With Sugar’s help, I would have to make a documentary that blew them all away. And with my friendship with Liv and my epic fail on the line, I couldn’t mess up the tiniest thing.

After two days of getting off my skunk smell and convincing my parents that I wasn’t on a downward spiral at school because of one Shakespeare test, it was finally time to hang out with Liv again. She’d spent a few days with her grandmother, and I was pretty excited to put boring school aside and tell her my story about the wildlife center. Something about facing off against wild skunks made me feel like even our busted-up friendship could be fixed.

Adjusting my sweater, I knocked on the door of her hotel room where she and her folks were staying for the rest of the week.

“Hey!” Liv exclaimed, opening the door. Her parents were gone, and she had her laptop splayed open on the bed. Loud, angsty music was pumping out of the speakers. “Come in!” she yelled over the noise. “I have Red Vines!” She helicoptered one in the air around her head.

I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the bed, already feeling buoyed by the smile on her face. Red Vines were a total Liv snack; I knew the real Liv was in there somewhere, buried beneath all that purple hair.

“How was your gram’s?” I asked, reaching for some candy.

She clicked the music down on her laptop, shrugging. “Oh, you know,” she replied. “Same old grammie. Still asking why we had to move away. Still makes the world’s hardest oatmeal cookies.” Her eyes rolled. “I think I chipped a tooth.”

I giggled. “It’s nice to know that some things don’t change.”

Liv sprawled out on the bed beside me, tucking her hair behind her ears. The dragon wrapped around her ear stared at me with its tiny, judgmental, ruby eyes. “Whatever,” she said coolly. “She also said she hated my hair, so that was nice.”

I stopped eating, mid-chew. Part of me was a little pleased that someone had spoken up about Liv’s hair. But the other part of me hated seeing Liv act so…cold. She used to love visiting her grammie and would even complain if her parents had to leave early from their visit. Now she was acting like it was the world’s biggest inconvenience to see her?

I frowned, mentally checking off one more change in Liv’s attitude since her return. It was almost like she was trying to be as different as possible, just to freak me out.

“So what did you do?” She rolled from the bed and reached into the mini fridge under the TV. “Want a Diet Coke?” she asked, handing me one.

“Aren’t those things crazy expensive?” I asked. Every time my parents and I stayed in a hotel, we (and by we, I mean Daz) were strictly forbidden from opening the mini fridges. Dad always said he isn’t going to pay six dollars for something that cost thirty cents to make.

She rolled her eyes. “You sound like my parents,” she said, sighing. “They told me not to have anything from in here, but come on, if you’re here, they can hardly get me in trouble.” She reached for a second can and cracked the lid open with her dark-purple nails, sending a fizzy burst up to her nose as she took a sip.

The sound seemed louder than it should.

Then she sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

Hesitantly, I took the can. My stomach was already in knots, and I’d only been in the room for five minutes. I tried to casually lean my head down to sniff myself. I didn’t still reek, did I?

“So, a while ago, this fox got hit by a car,” I said, shimmying closer on the bed to grab another Red Vine. I waited a beat for Liv to react—she used to love animals and visiting Mom at her lion exhibit—but her face stayed the same.

“And then I went in with Mom to the zoo while they worked on him, and eventually he got sent to this cool wildlife rescue center, where they help all sorts of animals so they can be released again. And guess what!” I said, trying to force a little too much enthusiasm into my voice to make up for Liv’s deadpan face.

“They released him?” she asked, her eyes brightening. She took another sniff of the air, her nose crinkling. “Seriously, what is that smell?”

I grinned. “I’m getting to that. They didn’t release him yet. But I got to go in and actually volunteer there! I got to work with real wild animals, that are actually going to get to go back into the forest once they’re better!”

Finally, finally Liv seemed to snap out of her weird emo mood. The spark returned to her eyes. “For real?! That’s so cool, Ana! It’s like the zoo, only even wilder!” She sat on her heels, stuffing another licorice in her mouth.

I beamed, my heart filling with relief to see her act like her old excited self. “That’s exactly what I thought! It was the coolest thing. I mean, I totally got sprayed by a skunk, but how cool is it to get to help these animals get healthy again, right?”

Liv’s jaw dropped. “So it’s you!” She grabbed a pillow and smacked me on the head with it. “You’re what stinks in here!”

I frowned. “It’s almost gone!” I cried, grabbing a handful of hair and leaning closer so she could smell it, to gross her out further. “I had to shower until we ran out of hot water! It used to be horrible.”

Liv shoved me away, laughing. “You talk about some things never changing,” she cackled. “You always were the stinkiest kid in school!”

I shoved her back with the pillow and giggled, sticking out my tongue in false protest. “Well, we can’t both be known as the girl with purple hair!” I closed my eyes for a brief moment, secretly thanking the Red Vine gods for their help.

This is how I wanted everything to go when Liv first came back. Maybe Liv had been having a bad couple of days when we hung out before? My insides were jittery with happiness, seeing her act like her usual goofbally self.

She’s back! She’s back! She’s normal Liv again!

Just then, a loud ringing started to sound from her laptop. Scrambling to her feet, she yanked it onto her lap.

“It’s Leilani!” she squealed. Her eyebrows lifted hopefully. “Do you want to talk to her? Let’s talk to her! I told her to call if she could!”

Instantly, the glee inside me was squashed, like it had been sat on by a giant elephant.

An elephant named Leilani.

She told her to call? When she knew I’d be here?

I hardly ever got to see Liv now, and here was Leilani interrupting our day again. But I didn’t want to seem like a jerk, so I pretended I didn’t care. If our friendship was going to be okay, I would have to learn to deal with Liv’s other friends.

“Sure,” I said, stuffing down my disappointment. “Sounds good.”

Nope. Nope. Nope.

Casually smoothing down my hair from our pillow fight, I held my breath as Liv propped up her laptop on a pillow and clicked the video chat button.

“Heyyyyyy!” she said, dragging her voice out in a whine. She waved to the screen.

You know, I’ve seen some pretty fast things happen. I’ve seen snakes snap at their keepers at the zoo, and I’ve even seen sharks snap at each other at lightning speed. But none of that was as fast as Liv’s demeanor shifting when she clicked that one little button.

Instead of her usual, bubbly self, she had rearranged her face to look sort of…unimpressed? Snarky? Her wide smile was replaced with a wry one, like she was keeping some joke a secret and wasn’t about to tell anyone the punch line.

It made my stomach turn. Was this why Liv was acting so weird and mood-swingy?

“Olive!” The voice on the screen echoed her.

Olive? I made a face at Liv, lifting my hands in question. Who the heck was Olive?

“What’s up?” Liv asked, gesturing for me to come join her. But for some reason, I was sort of scared to face Leilani now. It made her seem that much more real. I took my time rolling from the other side of the bed around to where Liv was sitting.

Leilani, on the other hand, was talking a mile a minute now. “I miss you,” she said, whining.

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. She thought she missed Liv? Welcome to my life, Leilani.

“Plus, I was talking to Becky, and she told me that Dan told her that Ryan said he missed you,” she said.

My memory flickered. Ryan was the greasy-looking kid in the photo Liv had shown me, right?

Barf.

But I didn’t say that. Instead, I put on a supportive face and gave her a thumbs-up. Be a good friend, Ana.

“Really?!” Liv asked, wriggling with excitement. “That’s amazing! I wish I were there right now!”

Her words hit me like a swarm of wasps. Say what? She wished she were back in New Zealand all because of some skuzzy guy? Since when was Liv so boy crazy?

“Come here!” she hissed, snapping me out of my mental rant. “Lei, this is Ana. I’ve told you about her!”

Liv yanked me closer, in view of the screen. Taking a nervous breath, I put on my absolute coolest face, trying to look like those girls do in the yogurt commercials where they look all carefree and chill with their little spoons and hips shaking everywhere.

“Hey, Leilani,” I said, smiling. “It’s great to meet you!” I lifted my hand in a super-casual wave.

I swear, I should have gotten an Oscar for this performance.

The girl’s eyes narrowed for a moment, like she was inspecting a shirt at the store but wasn’t sure if she wanted to buy it yet. I’d seen that face on Ashley a hundred times.

“She doesn’t look like a celebrity,” Leilani said, her lips curling into a sneer. And trust me, I know sneers. This sneer was level three, with some fake laughter thrown in so the sneeree would take it like a joke. My hands clenched into fists at my side.

“I’m not a celebrity,” I said, glancing at Liv. I kept my twitchy smile firmly plastered onto my face. So far, I could tell by the little image of me in the corner that my ears were turning pink. But I would not let Leilani shake me up.

“Sure you are!” Liv said, eyes widening. “She’s going to be in a documentary and everything. You should be here today,” she added. “She smells like skunk. We need smell-ternet.”

“Ew!” Leilani said, backing away from her screen. “That’s disgusting.”

I pursed my lips, trying to think of the perfect comeback.

At least my hair doesn’t look ridiculous.

At least I don’t look like I’m about to rob a bank.

At least I’ve been friends with Liv for almost a decade and you’ve only known her a few months, so HA.

And then, right when I thought Liv was going to stand up for me and say that it wasn’t that bad or that it was cool because it meant I got to work at a wildlife center, she said, “Right?! She has a reputation for being the smelly one! She lived in the zoo, remember?”

Leilani cackled as I glared at Liv. I mean, sure. It was technically true, but when she had mentioned me always stinking from something zoo-related five minutes ago, it seemed like she meant it in an endearing way. This, though? This sounded mean.

“Is she the one who had that wacky allergic reaction to Nair you were telling me about?” Leilani giggled.

I clamped my mouth shut, shocked. Had Liv actually told Leilani about my horrible Nair day? That wasn’t wacky—that was terrifying! I’d spent all afternoon covered in painful welts. I couldn’t believe Liv had told her that. You don’t tell random people about your best friend’s most embarrassing moments. You especially don’t tell people about them in a way that makes them laugh.

Suddenly, I couldn’t see straight. “Sorry, I think I gotta go,” I mumbled. “I totally forgot I have to be home by six to help with dinner.”

Rushing over to my backpack, I cringed at the sight of my video camera, clipped to the side in its own squishy bag. I’d wanted to shoot some stuff with Liv for my documentary, but the hollow feeling in my stomach made that the last thing on my mind. All I wanted was to show Liv how much she meant to be as a friend, and here she was being a total flake to me with stupid Leilani. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to include her in it right now.

“See you later though, right?” Liv asked, looking up from the screen.

I nodded brusquely, bending over to tie my boots. Refusing to let her see me upset, I plastered on another tight smile. “Yup, the party is tomorrow,” I reminded her. “If your parents want to drop you off at the zoo, you can stay the night,” I mumbled.

She tilted her head. “What party?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

My body went cold.

“What?!” I asked, not caring how shrill I sounded. “You’re kidding, right?”

The blank look on her face gutted me. I couldn’t believe it.

“You forgot,” I said, avoiding her eyes. I tightened the straps of my backpack and rushed for the door. I yanked it open, nearly smacking myself in the face with it. “You forgot my birthday.”

“Ana! Wait!”

I was in the elevator by the time she caught up to me. Wiping my eyes angrily on my sleeve, I shook my head. “It’s fine,” I said. “You’ve been busy.”

Busy being somebody I don’t even recognize.

Liv scoffed. Clearly my attempt to sound normal wasn’t working. “I’m sorry, okay! Leilani was asking me yesterday about an audition at home and it’s the same date, and I got sidetracked. I’ll be at your party, duh. What time should I show up?”

“It’s at—” I stopped short, dots connecting in my head. I knew Ashley had to leave the party early for a swim meet at two o’clock. The party started at one o’clock, so if Liv was a little bit later, I wouldn’t have to worry about the two of them meeting. Could I risk another rift between us, now that she’d basically shown me she forgot something so important to me? Not to mention she had practically dragged Leilani into our day again.

My heart hurt too much to risk it.

I couldn’t let our friendship keep cracking like this.

“Two o’clock,” I said firmly. “It starts at two.”

“I’ll be there! And, hey,” Liv said. “I’m sorry. I totally knew it was your birthday. I just got distracted. Okay?”

I nodded numbly. “Okay,” I said. But nothing about what I was feeling was okay. Sure, sometimes friends did dumb things to each other, but you only needed to talk it out and you felt better. But what are you supposed to do when it’s a zillion tiny things—being weird, being mean, being just plain different—and it feels impossible to tell them exactly what’s bugging you because you can’t find the words?

“Good,” she said. She trotted back to her hotel room while I pushed the button on the elevator.

I waited for the doors to close before the tears started up.