Buster Caleb Huett (bearly read books .TXT) 📖

here. I wouldn’t be here. Mom and Dad wouldn’t spend all their time worried about me. Mia and Devon would have a friend who didn’t throw up and try to leave all the time. Bellville would have … something else. Something better than me.”

They were halfway down now.

You don’t know that. Buster nipped at his fingers. Anxiety or not, you are the one people got. And they all like you. We are all glad you are around.

“But I could be better. If I was anyone else—”

Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed that I was really smart, even when I was pretending. Buster underspoke energetically, hitting all the poses clearly and deliberately so Tonio would understand. Anyone else wouldn’t care so much about me, or Mia, or Devon, or your parents—you are worried that you aren’t doing a good job, but some people wouldn’t try at all. You care, Tonio, not just worry. That’s what matters.

“I don’t know,” Tonio mumbled meekly. He wanted to believe it, but there was so much evidence in his head that contradicted it. Buster was just being nice, Tonio wasn’t any more caring than the average person, and wouldn’t someone who was kind and didn’t worry be even better than him? “I don’t know if you’re right.”

Buster was about to respond, but the cart rolled to a stop at the base of the Ferris wheel. Officers Sergeant and Grizzle waited for them as the door popped open.

“The judge wants you over at the teacups,” Officer Sergeant said, looping a thick rope around Buster’s neck. Officer Grizzle guided Tonio’s leg into another. Then the officers pulled the ropes taut and led the prisoners off into another part of Juicy Fun.

I’m right. Buster posed as they walked. I know it.

Tonio didn’t answer.

Before Juicy Fun shut down, the teacup ride had been one if its most famous attractions. The cups were atop a twenty-foot-tall concrete platform decorated in a cheesy mural of palmetto trees under a sparkling night sky, and even the years of being left alone in the weather hadn’t worn down the paint. The cups themselves looked like they’d been taken from a grandma giant’s dusty cupboard—the patterns were fading, but you could still see the swirls and flowers flowing around the fake-porcelain white.

Officers Sergeant and Grizzle pulled Buster and Tonio up the ramp that wrapped around the platform to the cups themselves. Tonio froze at the end of the ramp, staring at the cup with a blue fleur-de-lis pattern where Judge Sweetie and Lasagna sat awkwardly on the bench meant for humans.

Judge Sweetie barked to the guards, and they unhooked the leashes from both prisoners. Buster stepped forward and noticed a change in Tonio’s breath. He turned around to jump up and place his paws on Tonio’s stomach. He barked twice, loudly, and Tonio’s head snapped down to look at him.

Buster stood stiff and bumped into Tonio’s leg, guiding him to hold on to Buster and lower himself to the ground. When his legs were splayed on the concrete, Buster laid across his legs and took deep breaths in rhythm, trying to guide Tonio’s focus back to the physical, the real.

“The judge is waiting!” Grizzle barked. Buster shot him a glare with his lips curled back so far the officer’s tail curled under him in a fraction of a second.

“Bad brain!” Buster whined from Tonio’s lap while doing the Underspeak for it as best as he could. “Bad brain.” Tonio’s panic attack had started and it was past the point he would be able to cut it off quickly, but his mind raced as he tried to connect Buster’s words into full thoughts in his own head.

I’m anxious, Tonio thought. These are anxious thoughts. Why? Which ones? It doesn’t matter which ones. Even if some of the thoughts are wrong, they’re mainly true. No matter what happens here, I’ve hurt everyone I know. There’s nothing I can do.

Tonio’s eyes were squeezed shut, his chest heaving. It does matter which ones. Start at the beginning. Look at the evidence.

Tonio caught one deeper breath and felt better knowing he could still breathe. It always felt like he was never going to start feeling normal again, in the middle of it.

I still don’t know very much about dog expressions. I have no idea if any of these dogs hate me.

He looked at Judge Sweetie, who he guessed was the judge because she looked very serious.

That sure looks like a frown to me. She seems mad.

There’s no way for me to know that! She has a dog face, not a human one! I don’t think dogs even smile!!

Plus, they already took off the leashes. They’re not tying us to anything. Plus, they’re dogs. They’re strong. If they wanted to hurt me, they could. But they haven’t, and they won’t. They have laws, and a court, and a whole world I don’t know much about, but they don’t seem cruel or evil. I’m not going to die.

His breathing started to slow, and his panic attack started to pass. His heart was still pounding and he was tired, but he was going to feel better. He couldn’t handle looking deeper at some of the other thoughts right now: When the cycle got going, when his anxiety spun around itself and created more and more false thoughts, sometimes it hit a place he didn’t like to think about afterward. A sadder, darker place that made him feel empty and his brain feel fuzzy.

But he was out of it for now. He scratched Buster’s ears and reminded himself he was a real person, in the world, with people waiting to talk to him. Well, dogs. Dogs were also people now, he supposed.

Buster helped his human stand back up, and they walked over to the blue teacup. Tonio mumbled an apology for the wait and slid in first to sit next to the corgi; Buster slid in behind him. When they were all seated, Sweetie waved