Treading Water by Laurie Halse Anderson

Environmental Club meetings over here.”
    â€œCool. I’m in,” Nick says. He looks at his girlfriend and shrugs. “I think we both are. Keep me posted.”
    Sage taps the steering wheel. “We’d better get going to pick up those birds,” he says. “You oughta come out to our place and take a look around. Visit the ducklings you helped save.”
    â€œReally?” Nick asks. “That’d be great. I bet I haven’t been to the rehab center since my fourth-grade field trip.”
    Sage and I laugh because it seems like every fourth grader in the county passes through our place on a school field trip. Our dad even has a corny saying that he recites like a king might as the kids get back on their school buses:
“Go forth, Fourth Graders, and protect wildlife forever.”
    Girlfriend looks up from her phone again, “What’s this?” she asks.
    â€œNothing,” Nick says as he waves good-bye.
    We roll up our windows, and Sage drives out of the parking lot.
    â€œHow’d your thing go?” he asks when we’re out on the main road.
    â€œFine. Well, eventually.” I tell him all about the meeting room mix-up. Sage listens and nods and then says something that surprises me.
    â€œYeah, I can see that happening. High school kids can be a little self-absorbed.” He shrugs. “I was like that. Do you remember?”
    I think he is
still
self-absorbed sometimes, but he’s giving me a ride so I’m not going to really answer that.
    â€œI guess,” is all I say. “How was school today?”
    While we drive, Sage fills me in. It’s been pretty hard for me to imagine how a college day actually goes. I know they don’t have bells to tell them when class is over. And he sometimes has long stretches between one class and another, and he can do anything he wants during that time. Sage tells me he usually either studies or eats. There is a dining hall instead of a cafeteria, and you can just go there whenever you have time to eat. I guess it’s like a restaurant. I know he likes college. High school will be a little like college, I guess.
    â€œSo Sage, what do you think about me moving the Environmental Club meeting? Do you think anybody will be mad if I do?”
    â€œWhy would anyone be mad?” he asks.
    Exactly. Why would anyone be mad? Well, I guess I know who might be. But why
should
anyone be mad? It’s just a building switch. No big deal.
    I guess I am not paying attention as we drive because all of a sudden we are in front of Dr. Mac’s clinic.
    â€œWe have to be quick,” he says. “I’ve got lots to do at home.”
    I grab the crate from the backseat, and we walk into the clinic. Zoe meets us as soon as we walk in.
    â€œHi, Sage,” she says, all flirty.
    â€œHow ya doing, Zoe?” Sage says, crossing his arms in front of him. He smiles at her, which makes her smile even bigger. He glances at me, and I can tell he’s amused.
    â€œJust great,” Zoe says. “I was wondering if you could help me move a bookcase in the living room?”
    â€œCan’t you wait for Dr. Mac to help you move it?” I ask.
    â€œGran is working on a cat right now,” Zoe says. Then, turning to Sage she asks, “So could you?”
    â€œI guess, if we can be quick,” Sage replies. “You can help, too,” Sage says to me, uncrossing his arms.
    â€œGran needs her help. Come on,” Zoe says, leading Sage through the clinic to the house.
    Maggie comes through the house door and Zoe squeezes by her. Maggie looks back over her shoulder as Sage and Zoe go into the house.
    â€œWhat’s that about?” she asks. Maggie is almost friendly. Maybe all is forgiven.
    â€œZoe wants help moving a bookcase,” I reply.
    â€œThis minute? She’s been talking about that bookcase for weeks. She keeps rearranging the living room only to put it back the way it