"C'mon, let's go," Willa urged, grabbing my arm and pulling with all her thirteen year old strength. "I don't want to be late!"

"Willa, it's just surfing. Grand-dude is going to teach you. Seriously, there's nothing to be nervous about."

My little sister glared at me. "What are you talking about? I'm not nervous!"

I grinned in the way she hated just to spite her. "Whatever you say."

Willa made a grr noise in the back of her throat.

"Don't forget your wetsuit," I told her loftily. "It's getting cooler out now."

Huffing, Willa stomped to the bathroom to change out of her one-piece.

"Don't stomp! There's people below you!"

She hurled a rude word back at me and closed the door loudly.

I yelled back some of the same words at her. I noticed a picture that hung on the wall beside Willa's door.

A sister is a special type of angel on earth who brings out your best qualities.

I laughed humorlessly. The irony.

. . .

I didn't see Jesse again as Willa and I pedaled our bikes through town on our way back from surfing. And you know what the best part was? I actually, truly, didn't care.

My bike had been an early birthday gift from Grand-dude to me. It was a really nice bike with wheels that could go on sand as well as pavement. It was painted a cheery apple red. My birthday wasn't until October and it was September, but Grand-dude has insisted. He was pretty cool sometimes.

Turned out, Willa was actually a natural at surfing. She was almost ready for a real surfboard, unlike my beginner softboard. Also, she made fast friends with all the other surfers on the beach practically, and I had been surfing for a week and only talked to Grand-dude and Wanda. It was sort of humiliating, to have your little sister show you up.

I wasn't bitter or anything.

Willa was in extremely high spirits as we rode back. "Hey, Nikki," she told me as we pedaled.

"What?" I asked sourly.

She stuck out her tongue. "Let's go to the bookstore."

I wrinkled my nose. "The librarian is a jerk."

"You've been?" Willa asked incredulously. "Anyway, that's the library, stupid. I'm talking about the bookstore."

I scowled at her. "Can't buy books without money, Sherlock," I told her. "Last I heard, you were pretty tight in that department."

Rolling her eyes, Willa pedaled slower, forcing me to slow as well. She had a history of spending her allowance as soon as she got it, even before sometimes. Grand-dude gave us a little more money than Mom and Dad had, but she still managed to waste it. "You have money."

"And I would never spend it on you," I said loftily. "Your birthday already happened, remember? And Christmas isn't for..." I counted in my head, "three months. Sorry. No can do."

Lowering her indignant eyebrows, Willa's smile turned sweet. "Cmon, you know you want to..."

"Why do you want to go to the bookstore so much?" I asked suspiciously.

Willa colored. "I... want something to read."

"You're a terrible liar, you know." I grinned. "Cmon, out with it."

She sighed. "Do you think Grand-dude would let us get a pet?"

I blinked at her. "Huh?"

"Grand-dude. Pet. D'you think he'd let us get one?"

"Why do you want a pet, Willa?" I asked wearily.

She rolled her eyes. "Same reason everyone else does. Pets are cool."

"That's really gonna convince Grand-dude," I remarked sarcastically.

She glared at me. Then it all came out. "I want a pet because it's super boring at home and I want something to take on walks. I want a pet so I can have a friend and not just one of those surfers who only like me 'cause of Grand-dude. I want to have a pet so I can play with it and train it and give it treats." She took a breath and looked at me expectantly.

I heaved a sigh. "You want a dog."

Willa nodded. "If... if we can." She grinned. "I've been looking up breeds, and this one looks really cute." She held up her phone. A huge, doe-eyed mastiff stared mournfully out of the screen. "They're super well-tempered and everything!"

"Willa." I tried to gently break it to her. "That dog won't fit in the front door."

"How do you know?"

"Look, it says the average weight right here." I pointed to the screen. "They weigh between 120 and 230 pounds. That's twice your size. Do you really want a dog that's 230 pounds? It's knock you over. Probably break your ribs."

Willa huffed. "I don't give a—"

"Sup, kiddos," Grand-dude said. He was walking down the sidewalk and stopped when he came by us. "What are ya doin?"

I started, "Going home, I—"

Willa blurted, "Hey, Grand-dude, can we get a puppy?"

Grand-dude was quiet for a minute. "Why'd'you ask?"

My little sister clasped her hands together and squeezed her eyes shut. "Well, I've been thinking—Z has too, and so has Nikki—" I have not, I thought sullenly "—that, well, it'd be nice to, you know, have a dog. What do you think?"

Grand-dude scratched his chin. "I had a dog once. A boxer. She'd surf with me. Even had a little board for herself." His face grew wistful as he remembered, and I got the feeling he wasn't here with us right then. "Man, would she hit them slammers..."

Willa coughed rudely. "That sounds nice. Listen, Grand-dude, there's a pet store nearby where they find dogs at the Pound and rehabilitate them, so people can adopt them. Isn't that cool?"

Grand-dude came back to earth. "Wow, that's awesome," he agreed. "But I dunno about havin a squeaker around... the old landlord might not want it. I'd have to ask him, see what I can find."

Willa squealed and hugged him. "Thanks thanks thanks!"

Grand-dude looked surprised but pleased. "Well, I ain't sure yet, but we'll see. A dog might be nice."

I shrugged and hid a smile, trying to act nonchalant. But I had to admit—a dog would be nice. Really nice.

. . .

"So what kind o' pooch didja think of?" Grand-dude asked. "Cause these doggos at the shelter, they ain't gonna be first-class bred 'uns."

Willa was fazed for only a moment. "We weren't going to decide till we got there," she said, brushing off the Mastiff idea like hot coals.

"Ah, yeah. Well, d'you girls want to go get your bro man?"

Willa grinned. "Are we going to get a dog?" she squealed.

Grand-dude nodded mildly. "Guess so. Excited?"

She nodded happily and ran off down the street to the apartment to bring Z.

When they got back, we all walked down to the kennel, which wasn't far away.

To be honest, I wasn't so sure about a puppy. I was a little excited, but I was pretty sure that was mostly Willa and Z's happiness rubbing off on me.

When we got to the puppy kennel, we walked inside. It was a little place, with an entry room and, as I suspected, the kennels behind.

A woman stood at the desk in front, beaming at us. Her name tag read, Penny. "Hello, dears!" Penny said brightly.

We grinned back. Her smile was contagious. "We're here to look at the puppies," Grand-dude explained.

"Charlie! You haven't come here in a while," Penny said to him. "Good to see you."

"You too, Penny! Oughta get back on a board, you oughta!" He turned to us. "I used to teach Penny surfin'."

We nodded, smiling politely. Willa said, "Cool! Can we see the puppies?"

Penny nodded. "Right this way, kids!" And she pulled up a door in the desk and let us through to the kennels in back.

Instantly we were bombarded by excited whines, barks, and yips, so loud that Z winced and covered his ears and Willa yipped like a chihuahua.

"Here are the puppies," Penny said, leading us to a stack of crates with little, adorable puppies.

The crates in the puppy rows had a couple of little American browndogs, which is the nice name for a mixed mutt that you can't tell which breeds it is, and a litter of golden retriever puppies ("Everyone wants a goldie," Penny said), and several others, including a Rottweiler mix and a Doberman, which Willa was immediately drawn to, cooing and squealing as the pretty dog licked her fingers.

I went to the golden retrievers. They were so adorable! I loved them immediately, the yipping, wriggling puppies. Z stuck his hand through the bars, scratching them behind the ears and chins.

They were all a tawny, golden color with wavy coats and huge paws and wagging tails. Z laughed as one licked his fingers eagerly. I smiled.

"Want to hold one?" Penny asked us. Z shrugged and I nodded. Willa came over, too, excited to hear that.

Penny reaches inside the crate, pulling out two puppies and handing them to the twins. Willa snuggled her goldie, kissing its head and rocking it like a baby. Z held his awkwardly, like he wasn't sure what to do with it, but his cornflower eyes were lit and bright.

As Penny was getting out a puppy for me, I looked at the other crates. Another golden retriever lay in a heap in the corner of his cage, looking sleepy and glazed. I frowned and looked closer. Its fur was patchy and a dark rust color that would've been beautiful if it weren't so unhealthy looking. The dark eyes were glassy and half-closed.

My heart broke for the little puppy. I asked Penny, "What's wrong with this little guy? He looks sick."

Penny said, "We rescued him from a puppy mill. He was the only one in his litter that survived. He isn't doing well here, but no one wants to adopt a sick dog. Soon... well never mind."

"Will he have to be..." I asked softly so Willa and Z couldn't hear.

She nodded sadly. "Yes. I wish it could be different. But it isn't."

"Well..." I frowned. "Is there anything I can..."

Then I realized.

This dog...

He was just like me.

We'd both lost the ones closest to us.

And I needed him. And he needed someone who could understand. And I understood.

I turned quickly to Penny. "Can we get him?"

She looked surprised. "Well, I... you could, yes..."

Z looked at the dog. Understanding bloomed in his face, and he nodded at me. Relief washed over me. He knew.

Willa looked up. "Wait, we're not getting Junior here?" She held up the little dog in her arms, frowning.

I shook my head. "We're getting him," I said, pointing to the sick dog.

Willa grinned, agreeing with me for once. "Cool."

Penny beamed at us. She lifted the sick dog into a traveling carrier and went to a supplies closet. "You kids go up front again, and I'll be up in a minute."

We went and stood behind the desk with Grand-dude.

"Find someone?" he asked cheerily.

Willa nodded. "Yeah! You'll see him in a moment."

Grand-dude smiled. "Awesome."

We waited a minute more, and Penny came back to the desk, holding the carrier with the puppy in it and a big of dog food. She handed Z a little turquoise leash and collar set. "Here you go, guys," Penny said brightly. She set the carrier in my arms and I held it very carefully. "And contact us if you need any more help!" And she booted us out.

"Well, that was fun," Grand-dude remarked. "Who'd y'all find? A little friend?"

"He's a golden retriever, one of the red ones, and he was sick and needed a good home, so we got him!" Willa said.

"Well, now." Grand-dude smiled. "When I was a kiddo I had a real tender heart for dogs too." He lapsed back into silence, remembering.

. . .

"What should we name him?" Willa asked, watching the puppy squirm as I rubbed him with a towel to dry him off. We'd just given him a bath and he already looks a little better—his fur is shinier and his eyes are brighter.

Z yawned. "Leroy." Then he paused. "No, not Leroy. Percy."

Willa wrinkled her nose. "Like Percy Jackson? I guess that's kinda cool."

"Like the poet."

"Oh."

I stopped drying off the puppy and cuddled him close to my chest. "He doesn't look like a Percy."

"Poe, then," Z suggested. "Or Frost. Or Sandburg. Angelou—"

"Why do you want us to name him after a poet?" Willa asked.

"—Dickinson! We could call him—"

"Okay," I cut in quickly. "No poet names."

Z shrugged and started to mop up the splashy mess that the puppy had made on the floor. "Your loss." But he was grinning.

Willa sighed. "We could name him... um... Milo? That's cute."

Quickly, I shook my head. "No, not that one."

She gave me a puzzled look, but continued. "Cedric might be cool. Or Red! That's a cool name!"

"That makes him sound angry," I replied.

"What about Sunny?" Z asked. "Or Honey."

"Yeah, but this one's rusty colored," Willa pointed out.

I could see that we were getting nowhere. The best way to get younger siblings to listen is to be dramatic and firm. "His name," I announced dramatically, "is Aspen."

"Huh?" Willa asked. "Hey, you don't get to just say it!"

Z shrugged again. "I like it."

I nodded. "Thank you, Z. Aspen it is."

"What the heck is an Aspen anyway?" Willa said.

"It's a tree," I told her, not actually quite sure what one was either.

I held out the puppy—Aspen—to Willa to try and soothe her feelings. She took the puppy and snuggled him to her chest.

After a moment, she announced grudgingly, "The dog likes his name."

Z and I smiled at each other.

. . .