Free Steering the Stars by Autumn Doughton, Erica Cope

pulling the fabric up to my nose to inhale in front of him.
           “It fits,” he joked.
           I glanced down. The bottom of the sweatshirt hung over my thighs. “Do I look ridiculous? I do, don’t I? I look like an oompa loompa.”
           “Nah,” he said, giving me an appreciative smile that made me forget how to breathe for a second.
           “Well, I gotta go,” I said, half-waving. Could he know how rattled I am right now? “Thanks for the sweatshirt. And the coffee. Oh, and the ride.”
       He looked amused. “Anytime.”
           Before I could go even redder or blow a gasket, I pushed past Henry and made a beeline for the closest restroom to splash water on my face. I was a mess. And I was totally going to be late to fifth period.
           I didn’t think there had ever been a worse first day of school in the history of first days of school. It was the pits. Maybe in the grand scheme of things, a crappy first day was low on the totem pole of significance but it still sucked. Royally.
                 
    ****
     
    When the final bell of the day rang, I bolted down the loud crowded hallway past lockers and students gathering up their books.
           This morning, Henry had said he’d give me a ride home, but I hadn't seen him since the ketchup incident, and I definitely didn’t want to face him now. What would I do anyway? Stand around his locker like a groupie hoping he hadn’t changed his mind? No thank you!
           It was still raining so at the school entrance, I popped open my umbrella and jogged down the concrete steps, feeling the water slosh around my ankles and soak into my socks. The entire wet, soggy ten and a half blocks home, I thought about how awful school had been. Worse than I’d even imagined… And I’d imagined it going pretty badly.
           Was this what every day without Hannah and Owen was going to be like? Could I even handle that? Maybe I should talk to my dad about homeschooling this semester. Of course, that meant talking to my dad, which was something that did not happen. Not ever.
           I reached the sidewalk in front of my house and turned up the walk and that’s when I noticed the lock on the fence to our backyard was hanging at an odd angle and the gate was wide open. It looked like a limb from one of the trees had smashed into it. A stab of panic shot through my stomach.
            “Noooo!” I threw my bag and umbrella unceremoniously down on the bowed wooden planks of the front porch and ran toward the backyard to confirm what I already knew.
            “Aspen!” I yelled. “Aspen!” I scanned my surroundings trying to figure out where I should start looking. I had no idea how long she had been missing. I must've forgot to put her back inside this morning which meant she could be anywhere by now. I grabbed the leash hanging by the back door and took off.
            As I jogged down the street, I panted and desperately called her name. “Aspen!”
            About two blocks from home, I caught sight of her nosing around someone’s backyard.
            “Come here, girl!” I tried to keep my voice happy.
             Nothing.
            “Aspen!” I slapped my thighs.
            This time she perked her head and wagged her red and white tail, but she still didn’t come.
           I started to skip in place and move my arms. “Come here, pretty girl!”
            Her pink tongue fell out of her mouth and her blue eyes met mine with what was undeniably excitement.
           “Come on!” I encouraged.
            She took a step toward me—then darted in the opposite direction.
            “No-no-no-no!” I cried in defeat and dropped my hands.
            Why would she do this to me? I walked that dog every day. I fed her and let her sleep in my bed and rubbed her belly when she begged.
            I pulled