Buster, Caleb Huett [great novels .TXT] 📗

better, but that some people are sad more often, or angry more often, or goofy more often than others. I’m worried more often. And I might always be like that. But it’s not all bad.”

“That makes sense,” Mr. Pulaski admitted. “I’m sure as heck not happy all the time.”

“But I want you to be,” Mrs. Pulaski said, but with a half smile that showed she understood she was saying something kind of silly. “I want my son to be happy every moment of his long, long life! I want nothing to ever go wrong for you, ever!”

Tonio couldn’t help but smile back. “Sometimes stuff is bad! Sometimes I should be worried.”

“I know, but I hate it.” Mrs. Pulaski folded her arms and fake pouted.

“I hate it, too.” Mr. Pulaski mimicked her pose and pout.

Yeah! Buster said. He did his best to look the same under the table, lolling his tongue out and crossing his legs over each other.

Tonio laughed. “It’s not fair!! But it’s true, I think.”

Mrs. Pulaski took the paper from Tonio and wrote: #3: TALKING. “You are wise, Tonio, and I don’t know how you got this way. But if you really want to stay, if you think you will be okay, then I need you to keep talking to us like this. Even if it’s hard.”

Tonio’s eyes widened, and Buster’s tail wagged. Yes! We’re going to get to stay!

“Okay. I will.”

“My turn!” Mr. Pulaski took the pen and paper and wrote #4: PLAYING BEAMBLADE WITH YOUR DAD. “This is a very important part of any anxiety treatment. I read it on the internet. Also, I’m better at talking when I’m playing a game!”

Mrs. Pulaski rolled her eyes. Tonio grinned. “Okay, okay. I’ll play Beamblade with you. I should warn you, though, I’m a champion!”

“Good. I love to lose.” He winked at Tonio, who laughed. “And if you’re sure about this, really sure, I’m glad. I don’t think we should leave Bellville, either.” Mr. Pulaski gestured to their plates. “Now … finish your breakfast! It’s definitely cold by now!”

All three of them were happy to leave the serious conversation behind for a little bit. Tonio dropped sausage for Buster while the family joked, and gossiped, and complained. They finished their food, and the adults collected the dishes to clean in the kitchen. Tonio pushed his chair back and knelt on the floor to give Buster a hug and whisper in his ear.

“Thank you, Buster. Good dog.” He froze. “Oh, sorry. That’s probably a stupid thing to say, huh? If you’re a person?”

Not stupid at all. Buster wagged his tail and licked Tonio’s face. You’re welcome, Good Boy.

There were times when I thought I would never finish this book. It followed me through several new homes, a new state and city, and practically a whole new life. So there are a lot of people to thank. I’m writing this during self-quarantine, so I’m feeling the presence and absence of these folks very deeply, but they keep me going now just like they did when I was trying to complete this story. Buster wouldn’t exist without them!

First, of course, Austin Jenkins. Thank you for being behind the scenes of everything I create, supporting and listening and always asking, “How can I help?” Even from states away, you’ve remained the reason anything I do gets done. The bounds of your patience and kindness are so-far undiscovered, and you make the world a better place both actively and passively, just by living in it. You’ll probably keep getting two a.m. texts about every one-sentence idea that pops up while I’m washing dishes.

Also of course, Michael Shillingburg. Even though you “don’t really read” (exposed) I am thankful for your ear, your kindness, and the number of times you’ve talked me through tears. You are a brilliant, talented, and thoughtful person. Thank you for the amazing environment you create in our home, the plants you grow, and the loving way you care for our cats. (And thank you to our cats, Chao and Topaz, for being big babies and keeping us company in the hardest times.)

And finishing the primary trio of this story’s support squad is my editor, David Levithan. My life is permanently different because of the chances you’ve taken on me, and I’ll never be able to pay you back for all you’ve given—I can only hope to make something good out of the tools you’ve provided. Thank you for believing in me even when I don’t, and for being the most generous and thoughtful friend and teammate anyone could wish for.

The whole team at Scholastic has been amazing across all of my projects so far, especially Maya Marlette. You handle more categories of problem than seem possible in a single job, PLUS edit your own books, PLUS are an incredible board game player and comedian. That’s my friend!!!

Thanks to Charlie Olsen for keeping the train running, making me look professional, and sharing your love of comics and Mario Kart. You always have all the answers, and you’re always the first to say yes to my weirdest and truest ideas.

My therapist during the writing of this book, Patrycja Baska, was an incredible help when I was exhausted and tired from staring frankly and directly at my own anxiety during this process. To my past therapists, and all the therapists and doctors who listen: thank you.

My parents, Kim and Connie and Jason, and my siblings, Jacy and Willow and Jack and Rianna, keep dreaming big right alongside me! Seeing my family support each other and push themselves to new and greater heights inspires me, too. I strive to be as cool as the rest of them. And thank you to the wide web of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins who still care about how I’ve been, even when we’re apart for a while.

Thank you to my other early readers, Dr. Charlie Kamen-Mohn, Nick Splendorr, and Rianna Turner, for their advice and guidance. And