Quit Bugging Me

Chapter 18

Aunt May welcomed Taylor back with a plateful of chocolate chip cookies. "You really seem to enjoy the cookies that Anna girl makes from what I've heard, so I figured these would be a good way to thank you for feedin' Gus."

"Thanks," Taylor said quietly as she wheeled the wagon into the garage.

"Is something wrong, honey?" Aunt May's rabbits nuzzled Taylor's ankles and twitched their tails anxiously.

Before Taylor could answer, her parents came outside. "There you are," her dad said with a yawn. "It's about time for us to head home."

"Malcolm, I think she needs a minute," her mom said. Her butterflies clustered around Taylor, shielding her from the chilly evening air. "Did everything go okay with Gus?"

Taylor bit her lip as tears stung her eyes. "Jack was by the creek with his boar, and Gus..." She took a deep, faltering breath. "He must've been real hungry. We had to dump the whole cooler to distract him, but the wagon..."

Taylor couldn't hold it in anymore. She wept as she pointed at the ruined painting.

Her family enveloped her in a warm hug.

"I'm so sorry," Aunt May said. Her voice cracked as she struggled not to cry. "I know he hates waitin', but I was sure he'd behave himself, at least for one more night."

Taylor's dad patted her on the back. "It was very brave of you to help that boy out. Very dangerous, but very brave. I'm proud of you."

Taylor cracked a wavering smile at his praise, but her flies drew themselves around her tightly. Not even their constant buzzing could drown out her sorrow at the loss of the painting.

And what would the others think? Mr. Woods would be disappointed she had let something so beautiful be destroyed, and Anna would never get to see the surprise she had planned. She might even think she had destroyed the painting on purpose to keep her from seeing it.

Taylor's breath came in ragged gasps as she struggled to calm down. Her mom wrapped an arm around her and guided her inside. "Why don't you sit down and enjoy those lovely cookies? I bet they'll perk you right up."

###

The cookies were delicious, as always, but even chocolate chip cookies couldn't make Taylor feel better for long. As soon as she got home, she went straight to her room and laid out all of her painting supplies. "Come on, flies," she said as she filled an eyedropper with applesauce. "We've got work to do."

They lazily drifted to the black paint before staggering across the canvas. Taylor fought back a yawn. She had to focus. She couldn't let anyone down.

For the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday, Taylor sat hunched over her project as she guided the flies. Even her mom's chocolate chip pancakes couldn't convince her to step away from her desk and take a break.

Little by little, the swarm took shape alongside the bank. Yet this progress didn't satisfy Taylor. The rich browns brought her nothing but memories of the mud splattered across her original project.

As night fell, Taylor jumped at the sound of her dad knocking on her door. "Mind if I come in?" he asked.

She scowled at her unfinished work and sighed. "I guess not."

He quietly watched over her shoulder as she yawned and filled the eyedropper with applesauce. "You know," he finally said as her flies staggered through the beginnings of a sunset, "you really should get some sleep. The paint will still be here in the morning."

"I'm not tired," she said as her eyelids sagged.

Pitch tugged at the blankets on her bed and meowed. "You won't do yourself any good if you work yourself to exhaustion. Faceplant in that, and everybody will think you got dozens of freckles overnight."

Taylor sighed and climbed into bed, still wearing the same pajamas from the night before.

"That a girl." He made sure she was nicely tucked in before kissing her goodnight. "Sweet dreams."

Taylor shut her eyes but kept her ears ready.

Sure enough, her door creaked open again a little while later. "Sound asleep," her mom whispered. "Poor thing's really overdone herself."

Her dad sighed. "The other painting was beautiful. No wonder she's so upset."

The door clicked shut, leaving only the faintest muttering from her parents as they got themselves ready for bed.

Taylor eased herself back out from under the covers with a grunt. She squinted at her project as she worked by the light of her phone.

###

Days blurred together for Taylor like watercolors as she completely devoted herself to her project. Not a single moment was spared to study, to sneak a pet of Pitch's seldom seen and silky smooth belly fur, or even to hang out with her friends by the creek. At night, she led her sleepy, staggering flies along winding trails of applesauce until her darkness-rimmed eyes ached.

If it weren't for the packs of Skittles that kept showing up in her desk before first period, Taylor would have hibernated through school for the rest of October.

"Is everything okay?" Mr. Woods asked when her eyelids and grades dropped after a disastrous test. Ichabod sniffed her hand gently.

Taylor stroked the ferret behind the ears, but her attention stayed fixed on the red marks scattered across the test. "I really need to get home and work on my project," she muttered. Her flies blocked Mr. Woods from view as she rushed out of the classroom.

Mason and Anna kept a close eye on her at lunch the next day to make sure she didn't fall asleep face first in her chili. "Have you been sleeping okay?" Mason asked. "You seem tired."

"I'm fine," she said through a yawn. "Been busy working on my project."

Her friends exchanged concerned glances. They'd heard about what had happened, although the exact details had been hard to understand through her sobbing.

"We've missed you at the creek," Anna said. "Think you're up for stopping by sometime? You seem like you need a break."

"I guess. It's not like I'll be able to finish on time anyway."

As Taylor drifted off, Mason scooted over his lunchbox to serve as a makeshift pillow, and Anna's bees hummed a gentle lullaby.