Furry Friends Forever Read online

  For the real Imaan, and the real Sir Teddy

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Teaser

  About the Author

  Copyright

  I have good news and awesome news. The good news: It’s the first morning of summer vacation. No more Selena Elementary. No more teachers or disgusting cafeteria lunch. Especially no more tests.

  The awesome news: I’m going to get a dog.

  Well, it’s just a plan at this point, but it’s going to happen, I just know it. My grandfather—Dada Jee—says making up your mind is the first step to getting things done. So, I’ve decided that I’ll be absolutely, positively successful in convincing Mama to get me a dog.

  She’s going to say yes very soon, I’m sure. After all, how many times can a person say no to something before they get tired and say yes? Or before they forget and “yes” slips out of their mouth by mistake? So far, she’s said no—nope, no way, nada, NO!—forty-two times in the last six months. Maybe she’ll say yes on try number forty-three?

  We’ll just have to wait and see.

  I stretch, then check the digital clock on my side table. It’s almost nine o’clock. I better go down to breakfast if I want to get a head start on my summer vacation.

  The delicious smells hit me even before I reach the bottom of the staircase. Mama is making parathas and scrambled eggs in the kitchen. My brother, Amir, sits at the kitchen island, eating like it’s his last meal. His short black hair sticks out in all directions like he’s recently been struck by lightning.

  “Hello, sleepyhead!” Mama says, smiling. She’s already dressed in her work clothes: a plain white blouse and black trousers. “Salaam!”

  “Hello, sleepyhead!” Amir echoes, his mouth full of food.

  “Ew,” I tell him. “Close your mouth.”

  Amir is six years old, and very gross. He laughs and opens his mouth even more. “You’re Imaan the sleepyhead!” he says, pointing a spoon at me.

  I decide it’s better to ignore him. He’ll never stop bugging me if I pay him any attention.

  I turn to Mama. There’s flour and eggshells scattered all around her. “Need any help?”

  She gives me a grateful smile. “Just with the cleaning up, please,” she says.

  I already know this. It’s always my job to clean up once she’s done cooking. I pick up the eggshells and throw them in the trash can. Mama finishes the last paratha and puts it with the rest on the island. “Can you get your grandfather from his room? I’ve got to get to work.”

  I don’t really understand her hurry. Mama’s an accountant, and she works from a little office in the back of our house. It isn’t like she actually has to go to work like other people. Then I remember I want her in a good mood so she can finally say yes to a dog.

  “Sure, you go work,” I say, waving her out. “I’ll get Dada Jee, and then I’ll clean up once we’re all done with breakfast.”

  “That’s great, jaan!” She kisses the top of my head, then turns to Amir. “Stay out of trouble!”

  Amir laughs again. “It’s the first day of summer break!” he replies. “Of course I’m gonna get in trouble. Lots of trouble!”

  Mama gives him a stern look. “Dada Jee may have other ideas.”

  Dada Jee is our dad’s father. He used to live in Pakistan, but he moved to California to be with us after Baba died a few years ago. I was six years old, and Amir was one. He’s been our babysitter ever since, especially during vacations.

  Don’t get me wrong, I love Dada Jee. But his idea of fun is talking to his lemon trees in the backyard or napping in his favorite armchair in front of the TV. And if you accidentally wake him up, he yells at you.

  I’m ten years old now. I have my own summer plans. No grumpy grandfather or pesky brother included.

  Mama looks at me, her arms crossed over her chest. “What are your plans for the summer, Imaan?”

  How does she always know what I’m thinking? I’m so shocked, I almost blurt out, “Get a dog.” But I gulp it down and grin nervously. “I … er … spending a lot of time with London, I guess.”

  “London’s silly,” Amir says.

  I glare at him. “No, she’s not. She’s my best friend. You better not call her silly.”

  “She is,” he insists. “She’s always wearing strange clothes and pretending to be a know-it-all.”

  “That’s a suit jacket, for your information. And she’s supersmart,” I inform him. London wants to be a businesswoman like her mom, and she’s the best student in our fifth-grade class. Like, straight As all the way. And totally not silly.

  “Hmph!” comes a grumpy voice from the door. “You girls better not be spending all day around me. You’re too loud and giggly.”

  I turn to my grandfather. “I was just going to get you, Dada Jee!” I say. “Come have some breakfast.”

  Dada Jee shuffles up to the island and sits down next to Amir. He’s got white hair and uses a cane because he hurt his leg in some war a hundred years ago. Well, okay, not a hundred years. More like fifty.

  “You’re late for work,” he tells Mama, pointing his cane at her.

  Mama pops a piece of paratha in her mouth, then wipes her hands with a kitchen towel. “Okay, I’m going. Be good, kiddos!”

  She leaves before I can ask her about the dog. I run after her. “Mama, wait! I was wondering …”

  She stops in the hallway and turns around. “Let me guess, is this about a pet again?” She sounds annoyed.

  “Not just any pet. A dog!” I tell her, trying to keep the smile on my face. “Dogs are fun, and they make great friends. And they protect you from baddies. They’re almost like people, really.”

  She sighs. “Listen, Imaan. A pet is a huge commitment. You know I don’t have time to take care of another living thing. I’m already taking care of all of you, and working.”

  I hop from one foot to the other. She’s going to say no again, I can already feel it. “I would take care of it, not you,” I say, trying not to sound desperate.

  “Not really. You’re at school all day. And you can’t drive. So, it would be up to me to take care of it, drive it to the vet, and everything else. I’m not doing it. Sorry.”

  “But …”

  Mama’s not finished yet. “Besides, Dada Jee would never agree.”

  She walks away quickly. I stand in the hallway, trying not to stomp my foot. Even though she never said the word no, that’s what she means.

  That’s forty-three nos.

  I need a better plan.

  “What’s on the agenda for today?” Dada Jee asks after we’ve cleared breakfast away.

  Well, I’m the one who cleans. Dada Jee just points his cane and tells me where I’ve missed crumbs. And Amir runs around and around the kitchen yelling, “I’m dizzy!”

  “If you puke, you have to clean up the mess,” I tell him angrily.

  He laughs and starts saying, “Puke! Puke!” like it’s the most fun word ever.

  “Well?” Dada Jee asks again. “The children’s museum is free today …”

  I can’t believe he’s offering to take us out somewhere. I look at Amir and shudder. Imagine going to a museum and watching a hyper kid bump
into exhibits. No thanks. “Maybe later,” I say. “I’m going to meet London in the park this morning.”

  “Okay, good,” Dada Jee replies. “Amir and I will watch some cartoons. We can go out in the afternoon.”

  He drags Amir to the living room, and I heave a sigh of relief. I can’t wait to see London again.

  I get dressed in jeans and a blue top that says SUMMER RULES. Then I head outside. Our street is long, but we live at the end of it on a cul-de-sac. Our house and London’s sit right next to each other, with a small path in between that leads to the neighborhood park. It’s got a metal fence and a code on the gate that only the neighbors know.

  Okay, the code is 1234. Not exactly genius. But still, it’s safer than other parks that are open to the public.

  Plus, it’s been our hangout since forever, first with our parents (or grandparent in my case) and then alone. Mama decided last year that we were old enough to go to the park by ourselves, as long as we stayed together. London’s mom agreed. It’s weird how both our moms make decisions together, just like London and me.

  I make my way inside the park, trying not to grin like a fool. This is my happy place. Big shady trees line the boundary fence. There’s a breeze blowing, and the leaves rustle like they’re whispering, Welcome back, Imaan. I know it’s silly, but I have a zillion memories in this park, more than any other place. Special memories of Baba pushing me on the swings, throwing me a ball, giving me a ride on his shoulders so I could touch the leaves on those trees. Silly, but precious.

  A few little kids are playing on the playground, but otherwise the park is nearly empty. I march past the benches to the picnic tables at the back. There’s a little patio area where you can have parties.

  Or meet up with your BFF.

  London is already sitting on top of a patio table, her legs crossed. “What took you so long?” she asks. She’s not wearing a suit jacket today, just jeans and a T-shirt like me.

  I’m still grinning as I climb up and sit next to her, also with legs crossed. “Oh, you know, the usual.”

  She grins back. “Still trying to convince your mom to get a dog?”

  London knows me so well. It’s because we spend all our time together. We always have, since our moms became friends when we were little. “She says it’s too much of a commitment,” I complain. “Like, she thinks I won’t be able to take care of it and she’ll end up doing all the work.”

  London nods. “Well, dogs are a lot of work. Not like cats.”

  London has an old cat named Boots. She’s a tabby and very, very cranky. She hisses at anyone who comes near.

  I groan. “I need a plan. I need to show my mom I can be responsible.”

  “I’ll help you,” London promises.

  My shoulder leans against hers. I know she won’t let me down. “Just like you help me with all my ideas, right?” I tease.

  “Of course! That lemonade stand two years ago would never have happened without my marketing skills. And what about last year’s big birthday bash for your mom? Who organized the mani-pedis and nineties hit music?!”

  I nod. She’s absolutely right. I’m the one with the big ideas, but she’s the one who helps put them into action. “So, what should we do?” I ask.

  London doesn’t reply. She’s waving to Mrs. Jarrett, who lives a few doors away from us.

  “Hello, girls!” Mrs. Jarrett calls out, waving back. She’s older than Mama, and she always wears a housecoat with flowers on it. Today, the flowers are bright purple with green stems. She’s holding her dog, Sir Teddy, on a leash, but he’s so big he just pulls her along like she weighs nothing.

  I sigh loudly. Sir Teddy is ah-mazing. He’s a golden retriever, with soft fur, floppy ears, and a twitchy nose. Right now, he’s barking madly at a squirrel that’s halfway up a big oak tree. The squirrel turns and chatters at him like it’s talking back. It’s brown, with perky ears and a small white streak on its head.

  I watch them until they walk away to the other end of the park. I’d give my right arm to have a dog like Sir Teddy.

  London nudges me. “Earth to Imaan!” she says. “I got the new Animal Crossing game. Wanna come play?”

  Does she even have to ask? We climb off the table and walk back to her house together, making sure we close the park gate all the way. One time, someone left it open and a toddler ran out on the street. Thankfully, there weren’t any cars in the cul-de-sac, but the toddler’s mom couldn’t stop crying.

  I still remember that day. Dada Jee gave me a lecture about being careful, even though I had nothing to do with it. But now I always remember to close the gate tightly behind us.

  Back on our street, there’s a big truck, and men are taking furniture out. “Is someone moving in?” I wonder out loud. The house next to London’s has been empty for a whole year. We keep hoping a family with kids will move in.

  “Yup,” London says, pointing. I look in the direction of her finger. Standing on the sidewalk is a girl our age, with blonde hair tied in a short ponytail, and a shy smile. She’s got a big camera hanging on her neck like one of those wedding professionals.

  “Hello, I’m Olivia!” she says, walking slowly toward us. “We just moved here from Seattle.”

  I examine her smile and decide I like her. “Welcome to Orange County, California!” I tell her cheerfully. “Do you like video games about animals? We’re going inside to play.”

  Olivia looks back at her house. “I think I’m supposed to stay out here.”

  “That’s okay—we can play out here instead.” I flop down on the sidewalk. “I’m Imaan, by the way.”

  London runs inside to get her Nintendo. Olivia sits down next to me, holding her camera on her lap. “You’ve got a pretty name,” she says shyly.

  I shrug. I think it’s okay. “Thanks. It means faith in Arabic.” I look at her camera. “You like taking pictures?”

  She nods and fiddles with the strap. “It’s a Canon,” she says, like that means something amazing. “A birthday gift from my parents last year.”

  I’m very impressed. I have zero clue what a Canon is, but the camera looks heavy, with a gigantic round lens that sticks out. I’ve never heard of a kid owning a fancy camera like this. “What kind of pictures do you take?” I ask.

  “Literally everything.” Olivia turns the camera carefully and shows me the small LCD screen in the back. “This is from our visit to the Seattle Zoo last month.” She clicks through a ton of pictures: animals, flowers, the sky. There’s even one of a sprinkler with water droplets suspended in the air like diamonds.

  “These are all so good,” I whisper-shout. “Totally professional!”

  Olivia shrugs like she doesn’t believe me. She’s looking at a picture of a penguin standing on an ice cap. “Penguins are my favorite,” she says, like she’s trying to change the subject.

  “You can’t keep a penguin as a pet, though,” I argue. “I’d rather have a dog.”

  She nods. “Dogs are pretty awesome too.”

  “Really?” I smile some more. “Which type is your favorite?”

  By the time London comes back out with her Nintendo, Olivia and I are discussing different breeds of dogs and their levels of awesomeness. She thinks small dogs are the best because you can put them in your purse and carry them around like dolls. I think big dogs like Sir Teddy are way better because they can be your best friend.

  “Dogs again?” London groans as she sits down next to us. She doesn’t completely understand my dog obsession. Her whole family are cat people.

  Olivia and I nod and giggle. “Yup,” we say together.

  London shakes her head and powers up her Nintendo. “Who wants to play first?” she offers, like always.

  That’s one of my favorite things about her. She’s always happy sharing her stuff, even really special things like her video games. “Not me,” I reply dreamily. “I’m thinking of real animals right now.”

  London starts a new game. “Have some patience, girl,” she says.
“I told you I’ll think of something soon.”

  “Think of what?” Olivia asks.

  I fill her in on the whole I’m-dying-for-a-dog situation. Olivia listens carefully, then says firmly, “London’s right. We’ll think of something together. That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?”

  The next morning, the three of us meet in the cul-de-sac again. I’d wanted to go to the park, but Olivia says her parents still aren’t sure about the neighborhood. “It’s okay,” London says. “We can play hopscotch on the sidewalk.” She’s wearing a white linen jacket over her T-shirt today, the one that makes her look smart and cool.

  I think hopscotch is babyish, but I don’t say anything. London loves being in charge of our activities, and I’m fine with that. Having fun with friends is all that matters to me.

  Olivia sits down on the sidewalk. She’s got her camera with her again. “I’m going to take some pictures,” she announces. London looks surprised for a minute. Then she shrugs and starts drawing squares on the sidewalk with chalk. I’m sure we’ll all end up playing hopscotch when she’s done. That’s how it always is with London and me.

  I sit down next to Olivia. “Any photos of dogs in there?” I ask, nodding to her camera.

  “Sure,” she replies, clicking for a minute until she finds one. “Meet my aunt’s dog, Fifi.”

  I take a look at the screen and start laughing. It’s a poofy white poodle wearing a tiara and ankle bracelets. “She’s incredible!”

  London comes over to peek at Fifi. “Imaan never met a dog she didn’t love.”

  “That’s true.” I sigh happily. “They’re all incredible, even those dressed like poodle queens!”

  Olivia clicks to show me more pictures of Fifi. “If you love dogs so much, you should get a job working at an animal shelter or something,” she says.

  London and I exchange looks. Her mom actually does work at a shelter, as their business manager. We’ve asked a million times if we could get jobs there. But she keeps saying no. Apparently you need to be at least fourteen to work a real job.

  “I’d rather have my own dog,” I reply. “Who wants to take care of dogs you can’t bring home?”