“Gross! Gross, gross!” I yell as I run to the barn. I gag as I put the disgusting eggs into the egg carton. I wash my hands under the spigot until the water numbs them. “Gross!” I yell again. “Grooooooosssss!”

Ewe and Me walk to the edge of their pen and watch me.

“They’re gross!” I yell.

The sheep just stare.

“Ugh! Never mind!”

I fill Lucy’s bucket with feed, then decide to try a new approach and put her water bucket out first. She eyes me from her shelter and shows no interest as I lift the bucket over the railing and hang it on the latch. In fact, she rolls over and flicks her tail at me, as if to say, “Talk to the butt.”

“Whatever,” I tell her, and go back for the feed. I return quietly, watching her backside as I approach. She doesn’t stir. As soon as I begin to climb onto the fence and heave the heavy bucket over, though, she grunts, gets to her feet, and stares at me.

“Just wait,” I say.

She grunts again and stomps her hooves, getting ready to charge.

I quickly hook the handle into place just as she starts toward me at full speed. I jump down right before she heaves her side against the fence and tips the bucket over, spreading her food all over the ground.

“Why?” I ask as we watch it spread under the fence and out of her reach. “Micah’s right. For an animal that’s supposed to be smart, you sure are lacking in the brains department.”

She snorts again and begins to slurp up the food. She flicks her curly tail and ignores me. When she reaches the part that’s gone under the fence, she crouches down and sticks her snout under the railing pathetically.

“Dumb pig,” I say again. I get a shovel and try to push the food back her way. She doesn’t seem grateful at all.

I take Ferdinand for an extra-long walk and then go back home. Micah has texted me three more times about Sierra’s party, saying that we need to go because everyone is going to be there.

I’ll think about it, I text back.

I don’t know why his texts are making me so moody. Or why I feel the need to torture him instead of just agreeing to go. Am I jealous of Sam and Sierra? But why? I guess I just don’t want things to change, and I have this sinking feeling that they’re about to.

Did you do chores yet? he texts back. Want to go to the beach?

Can’t. Sunburn.

Oh.