The Dog Who Saved My Summer

I spent the entire summer being a total creep—okay, not creepy-creepy, but definitely operating in full spy mode. Every day at 3 PM, I'd position myself behind the oak tree in our cul-de-sac, phone in hand, watching Derek practice skateboard tricks in his driveway. My hair was always perfect, just in case he happened to glance my way. Spoiler alert: he never did.

Then came the incident. The incident I'll literally never live down.

Mrs. Henderson's golden retriever, Buster—a literal escape artist—dashed across the street just as Derek landed his first kickflip. Naturally, I tried to be helpful. Naturally, Buster thought we were playing.

The chase ended with me face-planting into someone's prize rosebush. When I pulled myself up, my hair looked like a bird's nest and there were thorns in my favorite vintage jacket. Derek was watching.

"You okay?" he called, actually looking at me for the first time all summer.

"Never been better," I lied, wiping dirt from my cheek. Buster sat beside me, wagging his tail like he'd just won the lottery.

Derek skated over. "That was pretty bull. The way you handled him, I mean."

"Bull as in... good?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, as in legit." He grinned. "I've been trying to pet Buster for like, two years. He hates everyone."

We sat on the curb talking for twenty minutes while Buster rested his head on my ruined sneaker. I learned Derek was failing chemistry, his hair was messy because he'd just woken up from a nap when I usually spy-cammed him, and he thought I was "intimidatingly cool" from afar.

"Why do you always sit behind that tree anyway?" he asked.

I considered lying. Then I looked at my hair—still a disaster—and realized perfection hadn't gotten me anywhere anyway.

"Honestly? I was just waiting for something to happen."

"Well," Derek said, standing up. "Something just did."

The next day, I didn't hide behind the tree. I walked right up his driveway with Buster trotting beside me like my new furry wingman. And my hair? Still messy. Some things, I learned, are better that way.