I snatched Enchanted Teen from Dad and flung it through the window and into the backseat.
Dad ducked. “Whoa. Take it easy.”
I wiped my hands down my shorts. “Sorry. I’ll get it at home.” I didn’t want Dad touching it, and I didn’t want that magazine anywhere near me, and especially not here. A green light glowed in the backseat where the bottom corner of Enchanted Teen lit up with “Five Fun-Filled Uses of Magic.” I didn’t like how tempting it felt.
Dad drove off, and with shaky hands, I pushed open the glass door into the Humane Society. There in one of the blue lobby chairs sat Jackson, his hair wet on the sides like he’d recently showered. His gaze was down, and he fiddled with his yarn bracelet.
Could Ally be right about him liking me?
“Hi,” I said, my voice wobbly. “I thought you weren’t a volunteer.”
Jackson stood up and twisted his bracelet one more time. “I’m not, regularly.” He smiled. “I just thought when you mentioned the Wednesday Night Walks that it’d be fun, and we could help.”
“We?”
Jackson glanced toward the restroom door, and with perfect timing, it swung open and Rhena stepped out. “Hey, Megan.”
A hiss threatened in the back of my throat. What was she up to now? And here, of all places!
Marble raced around the corner, passed me, and ran straight into Rhena’s arms.
She dropped to her knees. “Hi, Marbs.” She rubbed his face. “I’ve missed you.”
Missed you?
Mavis came around the corner with her purse and leash in hand. “Hello, Rhena! So good to see you. It’s been ages.”
Rhena stood and hugged Mavis, holding on for a second longer than I’d expect.
“Hello, Megan. Jackson.” Mavis smiled at us. “I wish I could stay, but it’s time for me to get some dinner.”
Rhena took the leash from Mavis and hooked it onto Marble’s collar. “I’ll walk you guys to your car.”
My jaw must’ve been hanging like a cartoon character as they left, because Jackson said, “Rhena volunteered here all last year, but her mom refuses to drive her anymore, something about it conflicting with tennis lessons. She made a special exception for tonight.”
It felt like universes were colliding. How could someone like Rhena be a volunteer?
A few moments later, Rhena returned, her smile buoyant. She was about to say something when the door swung open again and her expression twisted.
A tall woman in high heels and a cream silk shirt hurried through the door, bringing in a rush of flowery perfume.
“Mom? Why are you back already?”
“Is that how you behave? Not ‘Mom, it’s nice to see you.’ Or ‘Mom, say hi to my friends.’ But ‘Mom, why are you here?’” She crossed her arms, tapping a red-lacquered nail to her forearm, and then turned toward Jackson and me. “Hello, Jackson.”
“Hi, Mrs. Thornsmith,” he said carefully.
Rhena’s mom gave me a dismissive glance before focusing back on Rhena. “I know I said I’d give you an hour and a half, but let’s make it forty-five minutes, tops. I don’t like how your allergies make your skin splotchy. Did you take your allergy pill?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Good.” She made a face. “Honestly, Rhena. You shouldn’t be wasting time here when you have so many important things to do—homework, the treadmill, and your hair.” She gave Rhena’s hair a once-over, and her mouth twisted down. “Perhaps we could swing by the salon and get some of those split ends cut off. Your election is in two days, no?”
“I’ll get everything done, Mom. I promise. Please.”
Yoona came through the entrance while Rhena’s mom was talking.
“Rhena, let’s not sound whiny. It’s undignified.” Mrs. Thornsmith looked at her sparkly watch and then turned on her high heels. “Forty-five minutes.” And with that, she whooshed past Yoona and out the door.
Rhena stared at the squares of tile flooring.
“Sorry, Rhe,” Jackson said sweetly.
“Forget it. Let’s go find some pups that need walking.” She lifted her chin. “Hey, Yoona.”
Yoona stood like a block of stone, eyes wide. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Rhena said. “You know how my mom can be.” Then to me she added, “Well, you don’t. But now you have a pretty good idea.”
My muscles stayed tense.
It’s a proven fact that 93 percent of communication is nonverbal. My tight face and crossed arms must’ve told Rhena I didn’t want any part of a group activity.
“Listen, Megan,” she said softly. “I just want to hang with the dogs right now. Can we leave everything about Saguaro Prep out of here tonight?”
Yoona lifted her eyebrows.
“Megan?” Jackson said.
“Okay.” I nodded. I’d do it for the dogs.
We picked up leashes and signed out four dogs, a German shorthaired pointer, a boxer, a Lab mix, and a border collie. Then we went to the back where there were several walking paths, an open space, and a play zone.
Most of the other volunteers were on the walking paths. “Let’s do the play zone,” Jackson said. “It’s empty.” He grabbed a few orange cones and some cardboard boxes and set up an obstacle course.
First, we walk-raced the dogs around the course. Jackson won. Then we did it walking backward, and he won again.
“One more time,” I said. “Let’s see who wins, but this time we have to do the course skipping the whole time.”
Rhena laughed. “Yeah. Skipping and singing happy birthday.”
Yoona added, “Skipping, singing happy birthday, and pinching our noses shut.”
We all laughed and agreed.
It wasn’t long before Jackson, Rhena, Yoona, and I were laughing together about other things and actually having a good time. Could this be the Rhena who Piper was getting to know? The Rhena Yoona hung out with? The Rhena Jackson had been friends with his whole life? I’d been stuck on believing Rhena didn’t care about anything except herself, but she was sweet with the animals, and they loved her back. It made me think of what Hannah had said on the phone: “Last year we thought Brooke was a snot. We got it all wrong.” I knew I hadn’t gotten it all wrong with Brooke or Rhena—they’d done some mean stuff. But there had to be an in-between. Maybe Rhena deserved another chance.