Minerva Clark Goes to the Dogs Read Online Free PDF Page B

lap and Ned jumped right up. I didn’t think he was a loser dog at all. I thought he was totally adorable.
    â€œWell, now what?” Chelsea kicked her flip-flops off and stuck her tan legs out in front of her. “Do you like this color on my toes? It’s called Suzy Sells Sushi by the Seashore. Do you think it’s too lavenderish? We should go get a pedicure. Have you ever had a pedicure?”
    â€œI thought you were so afraid of your dad grounding you off the computer that you’d do anything to get the ring back.”
    â€œI am,” she said. “It’s just … he only takes it away for a day or two. Then my mom tells him he’s being acontrol freak and they have one of those whispered arguments and we all wind up going out and getting Thai food. You know how it is.”
    No, I did not know how it was. I took the receipt out of my pocket again and read it from top to bottom.
    â€œMaybe we can call the credit card company and pretend we’re Sylvia. The last four numbers of her card are on here,” I said.
    â€œAnd then what do we do—ask for our own address?”
    She had a point. “We could say we’re calling to make sure they had our new address, and ask them to read the old one back to us.”
    â€œWe could. But won’t we have to tell them the whole number? Not just the last four?”
    â€œYeah. Probably.” Whenever I heard my dad on the phone complaining about some bill, he was always rattling off a million numbers. “Do you guys have a phone book?”
    â€œIf you can’t find her name on the Internet, it’s not going to be in the phone book,” snorted Chelsea. But she pulled herself off the couch and pulled open a few cupboards beneath one of the bookcases. Winkin’ and Blinkin’ lunged after her, nipping at her bare heels. Ned stayed on my lap, as if he knew he couldn’t compete. Poor Ned. He was such a sweetie. He did have a big ginger-colored blotch on his shoulder, but I guess that wasn’t enough. I poked my nose into his neck fur. I lovethe smell of dog. I’ve never had a dog. Jupiter was supposed to be a test run; if I could take care of him, then maybe my parents would consider a dog. But then they got a divorce, and everyone forgot about it.
    Chelsea found the White Pages, sat down on the edge of the chair at the desk, and tucked her hair behind her ears. I watched her as she paged through. I could see why the boys thought she was one of the cutest girls in our class. She
was
cute, in that kind of regular way, straight dark blond hair parted in the middle, blue eyes, pug nose, small white teeth, and a pointed chin. Totally breed standard, like Winkin’ and Blinkin’. I was more like Ned. Which is how I liked it.
    â€œHey!” She stood straight up. “Here’s a Sylvia Soto on SE Albertine Crest. Apartment 1E. Do you think it’s her?”
    â€œOnly one way to find out,” I said, standing up and setting Ned on the floor. He sat at my feet again, wagging the little stump he had instead of a tail.
    Back down to the MAX station we went. Really, it was only six long blocks away. Still, Chelsea complained as if we were slashing our way through an equatorial jungle in the wrong shoes. My new friend was turning out to be the dictionary definition of moody: Look it up in the dictionary and there you will find her pouty face. I am moody; all we middle school girls are, but she’d alreadysped through about six moods since she’d called earlier in the afternoon.
    The second we boarded the light rail she said, “What IS it with this dumb train? It reeks in here. I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She pinched her nose between two fingers, glared at the lady with the thick glasses across the aisle who was reading a small black Bible.
    â€œHow else are we supposed to get to Sylvia Soto’s place?” I asked. “You got any spare jetpacks laying