“What did you do?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. I see Bennett and Calvin out of the corner of my eye. Marilyn Monroe is sitting all alone on the bench, and I need to go over there but I’m scared to.

“I’m sorry. It’s just they were saying that you loved Mason or that Mason loved you and it was so untrue, and I knew you were never going to admit your feelings to Bennett and I couldn’t help myself. So I had to.” She’s digging a hole in the sand with the toe of her sparkly flip-flop, and all I want right now is for that hole to be big enough for me to fit inside it.

“What do I do now?” I ask. I don’t know if I will ever be able to talk to Bennett again. The secret is out and things will never go back to normal. I’m too afraid to ask what he said in response.

I expect Claire to have an answer. She seems like the kind of girl who could write a guidebook to navigating life at eleven years old. It could be called Claire’s Guide to Cool or something. She seems confident enough. She tried to get away with not playing tennis at tennis camp. She always says what she thinks.

Though I wish she hadn’t said what she thought to Bennett just now.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I’m sorry. But I think this is for the best.”

“Claire.” I grab her arm as she’s walking away. “I can’t go back over there. I’m scared.”

“Well, we have dogs to take care of, Remy.” She links her arm with mine. “Business is business, babe.”

That makes me laugh, and as soon as I’m laughing I can walk back over to them. But when we get to the bench, the giggling stops. Bennett looks at me. And I look at him. We look down at our feet. And no one says anything.

“Do you guys want to take the dogs over to Daisy’s for some treats?” Bennett asks after the world’s longest pause. “I think they need a change of scenery. We’ve been here all morning.”

“That never bothered them before,” I say, more defensively than I’d meant to.

“Well, our boys are bored,” Calvin says. He’s calling them his boys? He’s only been helping out for a few days. “We’re gonna take Rascal, Lester, Atticus, and Oscar to Daisy’s, and then we’ll take them home later.”

I look at him, annoyed that he’s making this decision.

“That’s okay with you, Rem?” Bennett asks. He’s smart enough to ask me that. It’s my business, not Calvin’s.

I nod. “Sure. Fine. Whatever.”

They gather the dogs’ belongings and head out. I can’t help but wonder if Claire’s comment made them want to leave. And I can’t tell if I’m sad that they’re gone or sad that Calvin called those dogs his boys.

I feel cloudy again.

“Well, that wasn’t good,” Claire says. Tabby, Potato Salad, and Marilyn Monroe are all sunbathing at our feet. It’s going to be a very relaxed afternoon.

“What wasn’t good?” I ask. I’m only half paying attention.

“The way you acted.” She looks at me, and when I don’t turn to face her, she puts her hands on the sides of my face and literally turns my head. “If you like him, then just go with it. Don’t act all weird and like you don’t care. I mean, it’s Bennett. You’ve known him your whole life. Just be who you are.”

“I don’t know who I am,” I say. “It’s all so confusing. One of my best friends isn’t talking to me. And I think I’m in love with my other one.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Remy.” She rolls her eyes—something I haven’t seen her do in at least a day. “Get out of your head for a few minutes and just be normal.”

I know Claire’s trying to help, in her way, but this whole debacle has made me exhausted. I just need some quiet time.

The dogs are resting, and I want to rest too. I get up and pull over one of the Dog Beach lounge chairs. Thankfully, there isn’t too much fur on it. I decide to lie down for a few minutes.

But I can’t really relax. I won’t close my eyes, because I need to pay attention to the dogs.

Tabby and Potato Salad get picked up early, and then it’s just Claire, Marilyn Monroe, and me.

“Psst,” I say to Claire, who’s dozing off on the bench.

“What?” she asks.

“I have an idea. Since it’s just the three of us, let’s do a special trip.” She uh-huhs me with her eyes closed. “Let’s take her to Mornings.”

“What? No! That place is too fancy for dogs.” She opens her eyes and raises her eyebrows. “That lady Beverly seriously scares me, and no one scares me. Did you hear she wouldn’t even allow her own cousin into the store because he wasn’t dressed well enough?”

I glare at her. “She’s really mean, but Mornings was Danish’s favorite place,” I say. “He’d wait outside on their front porch, and I’d bring him a croissant. That’s what we’ll do. I figured out how to work the system and get around Beverly every time.”

“For real?”

“Totally. Just trust me.”

“All right, let’s do it.” Claire smiles.

“You’re gonna love this, Mari,” I whisper to her as we’re walking over. “It can be our special thing. I wouldn’t take just any dog there, but you’re different.”

She barks softly and wags her tail with her ears perked up. She’s excited. She must know something’s up.

When we get there, I tell Claire and Marilyn Monroe to wait on the side of the porch so Beverly won’t see them. I’ll go in and get some croissants and some fresh-squeezed orange juice and be right back.

We have the plan all figured out.

I walk inside and it’s crowded, but not as crowded as it is in the morning. The place is called Mornings, so that does make sense.

“Hello, Remy,” Beverly says in a not-so-pleased-to-see-me tone. That’s kind of how she is with everyone, but especially kids. I think she’d prefer it if Mornings was an adults-only place, but Seagate isn’t like that. She’s, like, the only mean person on the whole island, but her chocolate croissants are the best in the world. It doesn’t make any sense.

“How are you, Beverly?” I ask, all polite, the way my parents taught me.

“Doing well, thanks.” She takes my order: I tell her two chocolate croissants and one plain (dogs shouldn’t have chocolate), and two fresh-squeezed orange juices and a cup of water. It’s all going according to plan, but she does seem to be moving more slowly than usual, and I start to worry. Marilyn Monroe isn’t the most patient dog, and I’m pretty sure Claire is even less patient than she is.

Just as I’m digging through my pocket for some money, calculating the total in my head so I can be ready to pay as soon as Beverly comes back to the counter, I hear Claire’s raised voice.

Oh no. Hopefully, she tied Marilyn Monroe outside carefully so she can’t run away.

And then I hear barking. Marilyn Monroe’s unmistakable, high-pitched barking. That bark means that she wants what she wants and she’s going to get it and nothing can get in her way. Not even Mornings. Not even mean Beverly. I stand on my tiptoes to look out the window.

Uh-oh.

“Remy! Help!” Claire yells, reaching out for the leash in front of her, but it’s too late. Marilyn Monroe is off and running, all around the restaurant, her sea-green hair bow bobbing up and down as she goes. Claire runs into the restaurant and grabs my hand. “She kept looking for you and sniffing around, and maybe she smelled the croissants? Or maybe she missed you. She just took off. Someone opened the door and she took that as her moment and she stormed in, ran through the door, and oh—” She makes a horrified face.

“What?”

“She’s sitting on that woman’s lap!”

We both look back and see Marilyn Monroe sitting on some fancy lady’s lap. The woman doesn’t look pleased.

“Remy!” Beverly is yelling now. “Get that dog out of here!”

“Sorry, Beverly. So sorry.”

“We do not allow dogs. How many times have I told you that? Think twice before coming back.”

I scoop Marilyn Monroe off the woman’s lap and apologize a million times. But I don’t realize that her right paw is stuck under the tablecloth, so when I lift her up, I get the whole tablecloth at the same time. Iced coffee spills everywhere. Water spreads all over the floor. Eggs end up in laps, pancakes fly in the air, and the beautiful variety croissant basket flops off the table and lands at an angry man’s feet.

“Sorry. So sorry.”

Claire’s just standing there, holding her head with one hand and grabbing my arm with the other. It feels like five hundred years pass before we make it outside. And when we’re finally out there, I realize that the croissants we came to get are still on the counter. I guess we’ll never get them now.

“Oh my goodness, that was the most horrible few minutes of my whole life,” Claire says. “That was so embarrassing.”

“We should tell Amber what happened, in case she tries to go there with Marilyn Monroe again.”

“Oh my God, Remy, no! It totally wasn’t our fault, and it’s over now anyway. Let’s just take Marilyn Monroe home and forget about it.”

I’m speechless.

Claire goes on and on about how the place is dumb, and Beverly is too uptight, and why did we go there? And how it was the stupidest idea ever.

“Claire!” I finally interrupt her. “How could you let her escape?”

“Let her escape? I was using all my power to hold her back.” She glares at me and does her signature Claire eye roll, but then I see that she really does feel bad. “I’m sorry, Remy. It was an accident.”

I look at Marilyn Monroe. “Any apologies from you, my dear?”

She lets out her little whimper and tries to jump up my leg. I guess she wants me to pick her up. She needs me to comfort her—even though she’s the one who acted poorly. Oh well. I can’t say no to that face.

On our way back, we see Mason Redmond and Micayla on the bench outside Sundae Best, and Marilyn Monroe tries to break away from us as soon as we see them. She is pretty strong when she sets her mind to something, I’ll admit that.

When we get closer, Marilyn Monroe hops up onto Micayla’s lap.

Micayla says, “She must’ve smelled me. I guess she’s been missing me as much as I’ve been missing her.” I’m not sure if Micayla is talking to me or to Claire, but I nod anyway.

We tell her and Mason the whole story about the debacle of Marilyn Monroe breaking into Mornings. They don’t seem as shocked or amused as they should be.

“You didn’t come to Dog Beach today.” I look at Mason and notice that he and Micayla are sharing a cherry chip sundae in one cup with two spoons. I wonder if that’s his favorite flavor too. If it is, they’re meant for each other. I don’t know anyone else who likes cherry chip besides Micayla.

“I took the day off,” he says. “My boss said it’s okay.”

“I see.” Mason is pretty much his own boss, and he finds this joke very funny.

Claire’s just standing next to me, not saying anything—for once.

“Well, I guess we’d better get Marilyn Monroe home,” I say. “We’re pretty tired from all the stress.”

“Okay. Well, bye!” Micayla says, all cheery. I have no idea what she’s thinking. All these days have passed, and we haven’t talked. I never found out about the tour of Seagate Schoolhouse or the new girl Avery Sanders knew who’s also going to school there. I haven’t heard how the Mason Sundae Best thing happened. Maybe it was because he took my suggestion. Maybe not. I want to tell Micayla about Bennett and me, and what Claire said, and how I feel about him in general, but clearly now is not the time. We leave Micayla and Mason and take Marilyn Monroe home.

“Well, today has certainly not been boring!” Claire says. She’s carrying Marilyn Monroe in her arms. We can’t trust her to walk alone anymore today. “Most exciting day on Seagate all summer!”

“Yeah. For you.”

“What does that mean?” she asks.

“You’re not the one with all these emotional obstacles to overcome,” I say. “And now I’ll never be allowed a chocolate croissant from Mornings ever again!”

“First of all, rein it in, Drama Queen Remy. And second of all, I’m sure Beverly will forget by next summer.”

“You think?”

“Totally,” Claire says.

After we bring Marilyn Monroe back to her house, I walk home quietly, thinking about the day. Tonight’s my mom’s August book club meeting, and Dad is back from the city, so I’m excited for a quiet night with him.

I realize I was at Sundae Best today but didn’t even take the time to get ice cream. I must’ve been really distracted to forget about ice cream.

I sit down on the rocking chair on our front porch before heading inside for dinner. Maybe Claire’s right. I wish we hadn’t trashed Mornings, but it was actually kind of funny. It distracted me from the Bennett embarrassment. It was an exciting day, and a little excitement never hurt anyone.