Because I had been so caught up in the moment, I didn't even think a single thought of what I would do with Dusty. Luckily, I knew Dad was at work and my sister was at school, so that took care of two people. I would have to get Dusty past Mom, who has eyes in the back of her head...My stomach did a flip flop as we walked onto my street.

I looked over my shoulder at Dusty, who was following closely behind me, taking in the scenery. I said, "When we get there, you're gonna have to be quiet, 'kay?"

Dusty perked up. He pretended to lock his lips, throw away the key.

I smiled weakly."Good."

Once we were at the front door, and Dusty had ran his fingers all across the front of the house, I heard some loud noises from the backyard. I thought it was Mom, which would work out perfectly. "Dusty," I told him, "stay right there. Don't move until I get back."

Dusty saluted me, but on my very first step, he was right behind me again. "I said stay here." I went around the back of my house, and this time Dusty stayed.

Mom was sitting on the dirt in her garden, a large white bucket beside her, filled halfway up with weeds, and a trowel in her gloved hands. She gave me the original Where-Have-you-Been-Young-Lady look, which I dreaded.

"Hi, Mom," I said nervously.

She wiped her hands on her jeans, which were already caked with mud. "Hello, Norah. What's up? How's school?"

"How's school," is the most-asked Mom question there is. She asks me it constantly. "I needed a break," I said truthfully. I explained to her how I was stuck on a math problem and how I chewed my pencil so hard it could have broken in half.

"Oh," she said. She pulled out a couple more of those evil green leaves and dropped them in the pail. "Go back in and finish it, then, and you can be done today." Mom went back to pulling weeds, and I left.

To my utter shock, I couldn't find Dusty. Then I heard what sounded like somebody falling and doing a face-plant into the floor. Sure enough, the window to my sister's room was wide open...

It would be pointless to go in through the door now, so I crawled through Natalie's window, too, landing on my butt. When I opened my eyes, I seen Dusty sitting in the middle of the floor, the contents of Nat's garbage bin surrounding him. He was holding it upside down and shaking the last bit of mascara-covered cotton balls out. He seemed quite determined.

"Dusty!" I said, instantly panicking. "What did you do?" I scrambled over and started grabbing all the pieces of homework and broken eye shadow applicators and throwing them back where they belonged, and Dusty watched with great curiosity.

I sighed in relief as I cleaned the last bit of it up. Dusty honked.

Leading him up the stairs to my room, the door opened and Mom asked if I was done school yet.

"All-almost!" I said, feeling light-headed as I yanked Dusty into my humble abode. I slammed the door behind us and dove to the floor to look under my bed. It was, sadly, too crowded for him to fit. Boxes of key chains, what I collected, were taking up all the possible space.

Dusty was looking intently at the spines of the books on my bookshelf. I was going to take one off the shelf and give it to him, but there was no time. Frantically, I jerked open my closet and shoved Dusty in, pressing a finger to my lips before closing it. He banged on it twice and I hissed, "Shh! Shush!"

I hoped I could trust my savoir, Dusty, to be quiet as I covered up. Mom stood with her hands on her hips, suspicious."Finished?"

"Uh, no."

"Well, hurry up."

"Okay."

Stiffly, I went back into my room and closed the door silently.

Thank goodness, Dusty was still in the closet. The only problem was he had on my pink sun dress. I couldn't help but smile. "Nice fit," I said, even though he only had half of it on. It sort of suited him, to be honest.

Dusty tipped his hat and attempted pulling the dress off, but it was much too small, making me wonder how he had gotten it on in the first place. "Here," I said. I carefully lifted his top hat off his head, my fingers brushing slightly against an amazing lock of hair.

This time it was a little easier. When Dusty finally got the stupid thing off, he banged his elbow on the wall. Of course, being myself, I screamed bloody murder, dropping the hat.

Dusty visibly jumped. Bending down and picking up his hat after the initial shock, he brushed it off like it was dirty or something. He glared at me and boldly put it back on.

That thing was like his only child.