Field Trip Read Online Free Page A

cranberries, protein powder, free-range eggs from the chickens I raise. For moistness, I made applesauce from the tree in our backyard instead of using shortening, which, according to current research, is lethal.”
    She hands a muffin to Brig, who pulls a can out of his bag, dips two fingers in, and smears confetti frosting on the muffin. Charlotte flinches.
    “Hi, Charlotte,” I jump in. “Thanks for the muffins, very…thoughtful of you.” I’d kill for something deep-fried or oozing with melted cheese, but she looks so disappointed with Brigham that I want to make her feel better. “That’s Brig. He works with my dad. He’s got, um, low blood sugar and will pass out if he doesn’t eat frosting.” She seems skeptical, but she smiles at me. Whoa. Great smile. Didn’t expect a girl like her to be so cute.
    “I’m Ben—”
    Brig pulls a can out of his bag and tips it in his mouth for a whipped-cream chaser.
    I shudder and continue. “—and the younger border collie is Conor and the other one is Atticus.” Both of the guys are staring at her muffin and drooling. She breaks it in two pieces, giving half to each. Atticus gulps his down whole, but Conor chews, gacks, and spews chewed-up muffin on Charlotte’s shirt. Before I can apologize, she whips a box of wet wipes and a stain stick out of her backpack and starts de-crumbing and un-goobering her shirt. She’s not mad, though; she laughs and pets Conor, who tries to help her by licking the goo off. She’s pretty mellow about dog spit. “I like your truck,” she tells me. The Death Cone becomes a little cooler in my eyes if she approves.
    Jacob settles into the far backseat. Before I can say anything to him, Dad says, “Let’s get started,” and throws the van in reverse. He zooms out of the driveway and, once in the street, makes a sickening lurch into forward gear. Conor, who hasn’t gotten the hang of driving with Dad, crashes into the back of my seat, wagging his tail like this is a fun new game. Atticus looks as dignified as a statue, immune to petty forces like momentum and gravity. Atticus glances at Conor to make sure he’s okay before, I swear, rolling his eyes and then looking out the window. Atticus spends a lot of his time pretending the rest of us aren’t embarrassing him.
    Conor crawls between the two front seats, poking his black-and-white snout between Dad and me, and howls in excitement. Dad gives a howl of his own, Brig barks a few times, and Jacob and Charlotte give a few shy yips, trying to fit in. Atticus sneezes in disgust. Oh, what the heck: I punch the button to make the ice cream truck song play out of the speakers.
    We’re officially under way.

Atticus: The dry food blob the girl shared was horrible. But the puppy should have swallowed it. If you spew food back at people, they don’t give you more. Sometimes they take you to the vet. And they don’t share the next time they eat. We always get hamburgers on the road, but the puppy might not get one now. That’s okay; I’ll eat it.
    I like bringing more people with us. The muffin girl and her boy sit behind me, and the boy who works with the boss lets me sit in my spot.
    My boy can’t stop looking at the girl.
    Conor: WE HAVE NEW FRIENDS!!!!! WITH TERRIBLE TREATS!!!!

The Two Points of View
    “You must be Jacob,” I call to the boy in the back. “Sorry about the puppy puke.”
    “No problem.” He beams. “This is the greatest day of my life. Everything that happens is perfect and exactly the way it’s meant to be.”
    Atticus and I look at each other. Right. In a past life, Jacob was probably super stoked about that snazzy new ship the
Titanic.
    “Today is the greatest day of his life since yesterday,” Charlotte clarifies, and smiles at Jacob. I like her more all the time.
    “Yesterday was pretty awesome,” Jacob agrees. “A personal best for learning new stuff. I went to Great-Aunt Pansy’s funeral. Did you know that morticians insert a tube into the