Beth wants me to start taking Lila to the dog park near her house. She says it’s just as important for Lila to learn how to socialize with other dogs as it is with other people. But considering she also tells me how many kids in the neighborhood take their dogs there, I’m guessing Lila ain’t the only one she thinks ought to be socializing.

I know if I don’t do it, she’ll just keep bugging me about it. So one afternoon, after watching one of those house remodeling shows with Mrs. McGraw, I get Lila leashed up.

Apparently Beth had a talk with Mrs. McGraw about me going places by myself in the neighborhood, because she doesn’t try to argue as much anymore about whether or not it’s safe. That ain’t to say she makes it easy, though.

“Don’t go anywhere but the dog park, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And call me if you’re gonna be more than an hour or two. You got that cell phone of yours, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If I call you and you don’t answer, I’m coming out looking for you.”

“Okay.”

“Your sister says you’re fine and I ought to let you go out and practice with your cane. But if you get lost or hurt or something—”

“I’ll be fine. Can I go?”

“Don’t give me that attitude, young lady. No need to be rude.”

“Can I go, please?”

Despite herself, Mrs. McGraw gives a snort of laughter at that. And I might smile back at her. Just a little.

“All right. Go on then. Don’t forget your cane.”

I groan, but I do grab my cane as I head out the door and down the sidewalk with Lila.

I almost hate to admit it, but walking with Lila like this is a little easier now than it was a few weeks ago. My cane still jabs into my stomach sometimes, but I also don’t gotta look at my feet no more. Instead, I can focus on correcting Lila on the leash, keeping her at a good heel the way Beth showed me. And Lila’s doing pretty good at it, too.

“You know, Lila,” I say when we’re standing across the street from the dog park, listening for traffic like Cilia’s been teaching me, “for a dog who was supposedly so hard to train, you actually learn things real quick. Makes me think you’re just stubborn and know more than you let on.”

I feel Lila’s tail hit the back of my legs. Two quick wags. That’s about all I ever expect from her.

I wait maybe longer than I need to before I cross the street. I don’t hear any cars, and Beth says this part of town ain’t real busy during the day. But I’m still feeling kinda nervous as I listen, and I keep second-guessing myself. It’s silly. I used to cross streets by myself all the time. I ain’t a little kid. But now that Cilia’s been showing me safer ways to do it during mobility lessons—listening for the traffic that’s moving in the same direction as me or the all-quiet and such—I’m actually trying to do what she says. I ain’t used to relying on my ears yet.

After a minute, I decide there really ain’t any cars coming, and I tug Lila with me as I walk across the street, toward the dog park, at top speed.

There ain’t a lot of people here today, which I can’t say bothers me much. I keep Lila’s leash on until we find an empty bench on the shady end of the park, under a few trees. Once I’ve gotten comfortable, I unhook Lila’s leash and say, “Okay. Go on. Go play.”

She don’t move.

“You don’t have to play with any of the other dogs,” I tell her. “But at least go run around or something.”

Lila looks up at me, then turns around and sits down with her back to the bench.

I sigh. “Fine. We’ll just stay a few minutes. That way it’ll at least get Beth off our backs.”

The words have hardly left my mouth when I hear a scrambling noise and see a big black figure hurtling across the dog park and right at me. I don’t even have time to stand up or move before two paws slam into my chest and a long, wet tongue begins lapping at my cheeks.

“Augh!”

“No, Pilot! Off!”

I shove at the chest of the large, fluffy dog while, from the other side, someone else pulls it back. Once it’s off me, I stand up real quick and start wiping the dog drool off my face.

“Sorry. I’m real sorry,” says the girl who’s now holding the dog by its collar. She looks to be about my age, with a round face and wavy brown pigtails. And I think she looks kinda familiar. “Pilot’s big, but he’s still a puppy. Only ten months old. And he just really likes people. I’m sorry. Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I stare at her for a minute, trying to figure out where I know this girl from. And then it hits me, a flash of memory from a few days earlier.

I have seen her before. This girl was the one sitting at a picnic table, staring at me and my cane.

I tense up a bit, already feeling irritated, when the girl suddenly recognizes me, too.

“Oh!” she says. “I keep seeing you around! You and your dog were up on the hill the other day, right? At the picnic tables? I saw y’all there.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. I start looking around for Lila, who ain’t sitting in front of the bench no more. I figure she probably ran off when the black dog jumped on me. I wanna find her quick, though, because I sure don’t wanna stick around to listen to this girl tease me about my cane.

“I saw you a few weeks ago, too,” she says. “When Pilot and I were leaving this dog park, actually. You were across the street. I tried to say hi, but I think you were heading somewhere.”

It takes me a minute of looking around, my eyes straining for a glimpse of Lila, before I spot her. She ain’t gone real far. She’s behind the bench and is just sitting there, watching me and this girl and her dog through the wooden slats. I’m about to grab her leash and go over to her when I realize what the girl has just said.

“Huh?” I say, turning to face her. Then I remember. It was the first day I’d taken Lila for a walk. The day I’d tripped and Lila had run away from me, because we’d both been trying to avoid the too-friendly girl coming toward us. That was this girl. My face gets hot, embarrassed, wondering if she saw me fall that day.

If she did, she doesn’t bring it up now.

“Yeah. I was hoping to say hi, but you took off so fast that day. And then again at the picnic tables. I’m glad I finally get to meet you now. I’m Shelby.”

I just stare at her at first, not sure if I ought to be relieved she hasn’t teased me about my cane or if I should still be wary. Also, I just … ain’t real sure what to say to her. I haven’t spent much time with anyone my age since I left Mama’s house. It’s pretty much just been Lila and Beth and Mrs. McGraw. But Shelby is looking at me, still smiling but like she’s expecting something, and after a too-long pause I manage to say:

“Uh … I’m Hadley.”

“Nice to meet you, Hadley,” she says. Then, with an embarrassed smile, she admits, “If I’m being honest, though, it’s your dog I was really hoping to meet. No offense to you—I’m sure you’re great, too, and I’d love to get to know you. But … I really love dogs, so whenever there’s a new one in the neighborhood, I get a little excited. Kinda the way Pilot does with people.”

“Oh.”

“I almost came over and asked if I could pet her at the picnic tables,” Shelby explains. “But then you left. So … can I say hi to her now? What’s her name? Is she friendly?”

It takes a second for her words to set in, but then it all clicks. She’s not making comments about my cane because that wasn’t why she’d been staring at me to begin with. She was just interested in Lila. Maybe I ought to be a little hurt that this girl is more interested in getting to know a dog than me, but I prefer that to what I’d been imagining—that she thought I was weird or was gonna make fun of me for being blind. But Shelby don’t say a word about any of that.

“This is Lila,” I say, gesturing to the pit bull that’s still watching us from behind the bench. “But she’s not real friendly.”

“Oh.”

“She’s not mean or anything,” I add, feeling the need to defend Lila. “She’s just a little shy. It’s one reason we’re here. I’m fostering her for a dog rescue, so I’m trying to get her socialized. Make her friendlier and stuff. You can try to say hi if you want. She might just ignore you, though.”

Shelby lets go of Pilot’s collar, and I take a better look at him. He’s tall, with these long, skinny legs and big, pointed ears that seem two sizes too big for his head. He’s calmed down a bit now, and his long nose is pressed to the ground, like he’s caught some kinda scent he’s eager to follow.

Shelby walks over to the side of the bench and crouches down, one arm outstretched, palm up, toward Lila. “Hey, Lila,” she says. “Hi, puppy. Wanna let me pet you?”

I watch Lila’s reaction. She looks at me first, then at Shelby. She takes a small step toward Shelby, just close enough so she can lower her head and sniff the hand Shelby has offered. But then, in true Lila fashion, she takes a step back, turns around, and lies down, facing away from Shelby.

Shelby don’t seem too disappointed, though.

“That’s all right,” she tells Lila, voice confident. “I’ll win you over eventually.” She stands up and walks around the bench, plopping down on the seat I’d been occupying a few seconds ago, before her dog startled me. “She’s real cute.”

“She’s all right,” I say with a shrug.

Pilot lifts his head then, something across the dog park catching his attention, and takes off toward another group of dogs who are playing a game of chase.

“So you said you’re training Lila?” Shelby asks.

I nod.

“That’s great. I’m training Pilot, too. Well, kinda. He’s got his basic training—sit and stay and all that. But sometimes he’s not real good at listening, especially when he’s real excited, so we’re working on that. My dad’s been helping me. But I actually think I’m better with dogs than he is. How’s training been going with Lila?”

“It’s been going okay,” I say, slowly moving to sit down on the bench, a couple feet from Shelby. “She’s real smart. Just stubborn. But she’s gotten a lot better. My sister is a dog trainer so she’s been showing me what to do.”

“A dog trainer? That’s so cool!” Shelby says. “I’d love to be a dog trainer one day. Hey! You live near here, right? Maybe we could work on training Pilot and Lila together—since you want to get her more comfortable with people and dogs.”

“Um … maybe,” I say.

And honestly—surprisingly—that doesn’t sound like too bad an idea. I still ain’t sure about this girl. I’m still wondering what she’ll think of my cane or of me being blind when it comes up. And she’s so upbeat it makes me kinda nervous. But if I’m gonna be stuck here for a while, maybe it’d be nice to make a new friend.

And one good thing about Shelby talking so much is that it means I don’t have to. Unlike Beth, Shelby doesn’t push me to say much. She’s more than happy to just talk about Pilot and the other dogs she’s met in the neighborhood. And I’m all right with just listening.

And eventually, I realize we’ve been at the dog park for more than an hour.

“Oh no,” I say, getting to my feet and grabbing Lila’s leash. “Sorry. I gotta go. My sister will be home soon.”

“That’s okay,” Shelby says. “I should go, too. Let me round up Pilot, and then we can walk out together.”

Shelby hops up and goes to get Pilot, and I pick up Lila’s leash. She’s under the bench now, lying on her stomach, and looks to be fast asleep. I shake her awake. She opens one eyelid to look at me.

“Come on,” I tell her. “Time to go. Glad you used this trip to the dog park to get a nap in.”

Lila wiggles out from under the bench, sits up, and yawns while I hook her leash onto her collar.

Feeling a bit nervous, I grab my cane and start walking toward the gate. Shelby’s waiting for me there, and I see her look down at my cane as I get close. I hold my breath, waiting. Knowing she’s about to bring it up. Sure she’s either gonna tease me or, worse, act like she feels bad for me.

But after hardly a second has passed, she looks up at me, smiling, and just says, “Ready to go?”

“Uh, sure.”

Once we’re out of the dog park and crossing the street, Shelby says, “I gotta go this way.” She gestures in the opposite direction of Beth’s house. “But it was real nice meeting you and Lila. Finally. Let’s meet up again soon, okay? Do you have a cell phone?”

I hand her my phone, and she puts her number in before handing it back to me.

Glancing down, I see that—to my surprise—Lila is sniffing at Pilot, who’s wagging his tail, clearly loving the attention.

“Come on, Pilot. We’ll see our new friends again soon,” Shelby says, tugging at the dog’s leash. “See you two around!”

I watch her walk away, then look down at Lila. She’s watching them, too.

I don’t say anything to Lila as we start walking back toward Beth’s house. I don’t think I need to. I get the feeling we’re both feeling the same thing. Nervous, unsure. But, maybe, a tiny bit hopeful, too.

Later that night, I get Lila up on the bed with me and try to take a selfie of us both. It takes a few tries. I ain’t real good with selfies since it’s hard to see my phone when it’s too far from my face. But eventually I get one that’s all right. Even if Lila refuses to look right at the camera.

I text the picture to both Joey and Maya.

They stopped texting me about two weeks ago, after a lot of messages I didn’t reply to. But I ain’t gonna do like Beth. I ain’t gonna let so much time pass that I feel too embarrassed or guilty to reach out to them again.

Sorry I’ve been so hard to get a hold of lately. I miss y’all.

For a minute, I’m worried they won’t respond, that I’ve been too bad of a friend and now they’re mad at me. But both of them send replies within a couple minutes of each other.

We miss you, too! What’s Kentucky like?

Whose cute dog is that???? Oh, and yeah—miss you, too!

I smile, first at my phone, then at Lila, before typing out a long overdue message to my friends.