My Life in Dioramas by Tara Altebrando Page B

bathroom wall, then another on the wall of the closet, and another on the wall of my parents’ room. I grabbed my hat, then went back down, all while Bernie was tying that balloon.
    â€œGood to go.” I stepped back out onto the porch and put my hat on. “Good luck!” I said as Bernie went inside.

    My horse was black and white and named Oreo, a name I approved of. As we were being led down a wooded path near a huge barn, I realized I hadn’t even named the kittens and how maybe I should. One of them had fur that reminded me of Special K cereal; another had black patches around its eyes like a bandit.
    â€œStella’s going to horse camp to do dressage this summer,” I said when my parents’ horses started to trot alongside mine in a widening of the path. It felt weird to be talking about Stella when I wasn’t talking to her.
    â€œThat sounds fun,” Mom said.
    And she actually sounded like she meant it.
    â€œDressage seems kind of dumb to me,” I said.
    â€œI used to ride when I was a girl.”
    I had the feeling I knew that about her but had forgotten. “Really?”
    â€œYeah, I always thought I’d have horses when I grew up.”
    â€œOh,” my father said. “Give it a rest.”
    â€œNot everything is about you!” my mother said.
    I had no idea what was going on so I just started talking to the guide who was leading us, asking how old Oreo was, how many horses they kept. Anything to block out my parents.

    When we got home, I realized I’d sort of forgotten again about getting the stink out of the house. I started to panic when we walked in and found Bernie sitting at the kitchen table. But she just stood up and said a happy “Hello!”
    The house didn’t smell bad, at all.
    In fact, it smelled good.
    Fresh.
    Better than it had maybe ever.
    â€œHow’d it go?” my dad asked.
    â€œGreat!” she said.
    Somehow my plan had failed. Maybe I hadn’t used enough stuff?
    â€œWe have some very interested parties at this point,” Bernie said. “One woman came alone today but is bringing her husband back with her tomorrow. And a couple from last week is coming back tomorrow, too, for a second look. I’m optimistic. Another developer type showed up right at the end.”
    â€œThat’s great,” Dad said.
    â€œAll righty, then.” Bernie grabbed her bag. “I hope you don’t mind. I put a few little Febreze things around.”
    â€œYeah, it smells good,” my dad said.
    â€œI can remove them tomorrow. Whatever you like. Toodles.” And she was out the door.
    â€œI’m going to the bathroom,” I said, and went upstairs toretrieve the stink baggies. But they weren’t there.
    Breathing hard, I went to my room and texted Naveen to see if he was around and could meet me at Truxton Pond. I thought about texting Stella but a fight was a fight.
    Naveen wrote back, IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING! COME TO MY HOUSE?
    My parents were sitting out on the back porch with beers on the table in front of them.
    â€œCan I go to Naveen’s for a little while?” I asked.
    â€œAre his parents home?” My mom looked at me over her sunglasses.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDon’t be long,” she said.
    I got my bike out of the barn and took off toward Naveen’s. His dad was out front mowing the lawn, and he turned off the mower and waved. “He’s around back.”
    I found Naveen in the backyard with some weird-looking contraption in his hands. He shouted, “Blasting off,” then launched an empty, plastic, two-liter soda bottle into the air. It hit a tree and bounced down to the ground, hitting branches along the way.
    â€œHey,” I said.
    â€œOh, hey,” he said.
    â€œThis is what you’re in the middle of?”
    â€œCome here. I need you to help me pump it up better this time.”
    He showed me how the bottle launcher worked, and after