My Life as a Book by Janet Tashjian Page A

flying to Boston for five days, leaving next Friday. It’s the only time I can get Dr. Taylor to cover for me and it’s good for Dad too.”
    â€œThat’s great!”

    â€œDad and I were also trying to take a romantic weekend this summer—”
    â€œDon’t leave me with Amy!”
    â€œCalm down. We decided to all go back East instead.”
    I gather up my courage for the next question because I have to know. “Can we go to Martha’s Vineyard? To see Matt, I mean.”
    â€œI already spoke to Matt’s mother. They’re flying back after the fair, so they won’t be there.”
    I’m a little sad about not going to the Scene of the Crime with my best friend, but three days off from Learning Camp, a plane ride, and seeing my grandma are all reasons to celebrate.
    Mom pulls out another bit of unexpected news. “We’re going to the Vineyard anyway,” she says. “You’ve been so curious about Susan all summer. We’ll go to South Beach, even visit Susan’s mom. That way you can see there’s no big mystery and move on.”
    I jump up and down with excitement before I realize there has to be a catch. There’s always a catch.
    â€œBut you have to work on the school reading list so we don’t spend the rest of the summer arguing about it.”
    Before I say “deal,” I decide to negotiate. “Can Bodi come with us?”

    She shakes her head. “I think Bodi should stay at Pet Camp, don’t you?”
    When I stand toe-to-toe with her, I can’t wait till we’re both the same height—maybe that will make these discussions a little more fair. I look her in the eye and try one last plea. “He’s part of the family. He should come.”
    She thinks about this for a moment. “It is always more of a family vacation with Bodi. Deal.” She pushes one of the pizza boxes toward me. “This one’s all yours.”
    I tear open the box, but instead of a large pepperoni and cheese, I find three of the books from my summer reading list, including the one Ms. Williams gave me that I haven’t read since Dad contaminated my flip-o-rama book. (Mom is really good at finding stuff.) She tries not to laugh, then points upstairs.
    A third of a pizza is much less fun than one all to yourself, but I’m starving and open the other box. I take a slice and rip a paper towel from the roll and head up to my room.
    â€œAren’t you forgetting something?” Mom asks.
    I grab Ms. Williams’s book from the pizza box—it’ll make a good plate—then plop down on my bed. For the first time, I notice the notes Ms. Williams made in the margins. What is the main character feeling? What do you think could happen next? Her notes raise questions of my own. How long will it take to read a book if I have to stop every minute to answer these stupid questions?
    I shove the book under my mattress and do something easier: email Grandma to tell her how happy I am that we’re coming to Boston.

What Are You Doing Here?
    I keep Bodi on the leash when I take him for his morning walk, even though I know he’d love to chase a few squirrels. I used to let him off-leash, but my mother just treated a Lab that got hit by a car, and it was not a pretty sight. When we reach the lot near the recreation field, Bodi takes a leak and I do too. I find a shady spot under a large beech, and Bodi sneaks in next to me. He ran through a stream on our way here and now he has that wet-dog smell. It’s my favorite aroma on the planet so I bury my face in his fur.

    Across the field, a group of women are playing softball. I ignore them and reach for my book. I suddenly realize I’m reading a comic where Calvin leans against a tree with Hobbes next to him in the exact same position Bodi and I are in. Weird.
    â€œDerek Fallon, is that you?”
    I look up to see Ms. Williams running over from first base.