I was a mess of emotions when I got home. Jacob and I had never fought before. It was like I’d seen an entirely different person. And I didn’t like what I’d seen.
My parents forced me to eat dinner with them. I hardly touched my food. They tried to involve me in their discussion about “next steps.” “Your dad’s going to move out at the end of the month,” Mom said.
“I’ve rented a place that’s very close by,” Dad added. “You’ll have your own room there, too, of course.”
I could barely process their words. They exchanged concerned glances, and when I asked if I could be excused, they said yes.
I didn’t know what to do. Should I take down the video? Jacob was so obviously upset.
I went on YouTube and found Cataptation. Even if I wanted to delete it, I didn’t see how I could. It was part of the contest. It had also been shared a lot.
This time I noticed the comments section.
I scrolled down and read some of them. A few people thought the video was stupid. A few animal rights activists thought it was pet abuse.
But most people thought it was hilarious.
Do one based on a Dickens novel!
Hope this one wins!
I beg you, do Lord of the Flies!!!!!
LOL, this is funnier than Maru!
The Dumbing-Down of North America Continues.
This was written by someone with the username Herbie_the_Love_Bug. I wondered if it was Mr. Herbert.
Is the director the same Jacob S. Cohen who went to Northwestern Secondary in Toronto?
This was written by a shirlest123. There was an option to respond to the comments, so I replied with my username, which was, unimaginatively, “PetulaDeWilde.”
Yes. Did you go to school with him?
I scrolled through some more comments; then I watched a few of the competing videos. The whole time I kept checking my phone, hoping Jacob would call or text to apologize.
But there was nothing.
Jacob was a no-show on Monday. I told myself I didn’t care.
I was at my locker just before lunch when Koula barreled up to me. “So? What happened? I tried texting you yesterday, like, twenty times.”
She had. I just hadn’t had the energy to respond. “They’re splitting up.”
“Oh, crap. Sorry.” She gave me an awkward pat on the shoulder. I closed my locker and we started to walk down the hall. “If it’s any consolation?” she said. “There are perks. I speak from experience. Two Christmases. Two Easter baskets. And before my mom kicked me out, my folks competed for my affection all the time. Latest iPhone, clothes, concert tickets—I got a ton of cool stuff.”
“Um. Well. Great to know.”
We reached the cafeteria doors at the exact same moment as Rachel.
Since our craft fair outing, Rachel and I had been friendly. But we hadn’t gotten together again, either.
“Petula,” she said. “How are you?”
I couldn’t help it. I burst into tears.
Rachel pulled me into the closest girls’ washroom. By some miracle it was deserted. “What’s wrong?”
I told her about my parents. “And Jacob and I had a huge fight.”
“What? You didn’t tell me about the fight,” said Koula. She’d followed us in, and she pushed closer to me, trying to edge Rachel out.
Rachel just maneuvered around Koula and wrapped her arms around me.
Koula glared at her. She pried one of Rachel’s arms away and wedged herself in, putting one arm around me and one around Rachel. “Group hug!” she shouted, just as a ninth grader entered, took one look at us, and backed out the door.
Jacob texted me just before math.
Sorry for being such a jerk. Want to explain.
Good.
Can I come over after school?
Yes.
Mom’s shoes were by the door when I came home. I didn’t shout out a hello, but she must have heard me anyway. A moment later she appeared in the foyer, holding Alice.
“Tula, I really wish we could talk.”
“We will. Just not now, okay? I’m tired. And Jacob’s coming over.” I pulled off my sneakers. “I forgot to tell you. I’ve found a forever home for Pippi.” I didn’t tell her about the name change.
“Really?”
“Koula, from my art therapy class. She’ll pick Pippi up on the weekend.”
“That’s great news. Thank you.”
I went to my room and closed the door. I couldn’t concentrate on homework, so I went online and brought up our video. Perhaps if Jacob could see some of the comments, it would give him a different perspective. Ferdinand wandered in and hopped onto my lap.
I saw that I had a reply from shirlest123.
No I didn’t go to school with Jacob.
My son did.
He killed my son.