Disclaimer: I do not own Dog With a Blog.


Chapter 2

Avery threw her pencil across the room. Why was it so hard to find a boy to wear her outfit?! Every single one that she asked shot her down immediately, and she was out of options. Not to mention all the other problems.

She looked down at the drawings in her sketchbook. Every single shirt, skirt, and dress had a little X next to it. She had a little under two weeks to finish her designs and send them in so that they got there in time, but she had no ideas.

She also had to figure out how to get the three of them to New York when the time came. She had done some brief preliminary research; plane tickets cost about four-hundred dollars a person, and Avery only had about five-hundred in her bank account…

Someone knocked on her door, tearing her out of her reverie. "Avery, can I come in?" her mom asked, poking her blonde head around the door.

"Sure." Avery put her book aside, which she saw she'd been doodling numbers in while she was thinking.

Her mom sat on her bed and reclined on her hand. "So? Any luck?"

Avery sighed, deep and heavy. "No," she groaned.

Mom smiled, and Avery was immediately suspicious. "Heeeey," she leered. "I have an idea. Have you asked Karl yet? I had tea with him yesterday and he told me that he doesn't have any plans for the summer."

Avery visibly gagged. "You aren't serious…"

Mom nodded vigorously. "Completely."

Avery paced back and forth, phone flipping end over end in her sweaty palms. She'd texted Lindsay over an hour ago and hadn't heard anything from her. Usually she answered within ten minutes. This was unprecedented.

On her bed, Stan watched her, brown puppy-dog eyes anxious. "I think you're going to put a rut in your carpet," he said eventually.

She sighed. "I can't help it. I need to talk to Lindsay and she's not answering her phone. I've sent her six messages already. She should have answered me by now." The worry in her voice was practically malleable.

"You can always talk to me," Stan offered, perking up. His tail thumped on her bed loudly.

Avery gave up and dropped on the bed next to him. "Thanks, Stan, but I don't think you can help me with this."

"Is it about your mom wanting you to ask Karl to be your model?" Avery could practically hear the amusement in his voice. Hence the reason she didn't want to talk to him about this. He would probably be on Mom's side. He liked Karl, and had already heard her gripe about how she didn't have anyone to ask.


Stan jumped on the bed, tail wagging ferociously. "Then you can totally talk to me!"

Avery rolled her eyes and flopped on the mattress. "No I can't. You're not exactly impartial."

"Try me," he challenged.

"Okay. If I told you that I really didn't want to have Karl be my model, what would you say?"

"You should totally get over it and let him be your model," Stan answered matter-of-factly.

Avery flopped back on her bed. She didn't have the energy to shoo him out. Her groan of misery was loud and resonating.

Stan's eyes narrowed. "Fine, if you're going to be like that," he said before trotting out.

Avery rolled onto her side. Way to go from zero to sixty on Stan's bipolar meter. Still, she thought, he has a point. Other than Wes and Karl, she didn't really interact much with boys that weren't related to her; and Wes was clearly not an option, seeing as he'd moved away awhile ago. She rolled to her other side. Which meant she really didn't have an option, much as she was loathe to admit it. She would have to ask Karl Fink.

She sighed. At least he was tall.

Avery knocked, heavily, on the door of Karl's shed for the upteenth time in the last fifteen minutes. She heard the sound of a crash on the other side and ground her teeth.

"Karl, open up this door!" she shouted. Probably not the best way to convince him to do as she asked, but she was beyond caring. Besides, they weren't exactly the type to be polite when it came to each other. She heard another thud. "KARL!"

"I'm busy," he shouted.

She growled. He was so irritating. "Five minutes," she insisted.

"Don't have five min- Ouuf." Smoke drizzled out of his shed.

Flustered and, she admitted, a little worried, she called, "Karl?!"

The door opened and Karl tripped out, chestnut hair soot-stained and brown eyes a little wild. On this way into the yard, he bumped into Avery and her heart hammered uncomfortably before settling into its usual rhythm. "Damn," he said.

Avery took a few steps back and resumed glowering at him. "About time," she grumbled.

"Huh?" he turned to stare at her. "Oh, you're still here."

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "Yeah, I am. Now will you listen to me?"

Karl glanced at his shed, still spewing smoke. "Five minutes, then I go back to work."

"I want you to model one of my designs for a special fashion show."

He didn't even pause. "No." He turned back to the shed.

Avery grabbed his arm and pulled him back around to face her. His animosity was starting to wear on her frayed nerves. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't have another choice."

Slowly, Karl turned toward her with a slight smile on his face. He looked as if that was exactly what he wanted to hear. "So what's in it for me?"

Avery groaned, she should have known. "Tentatively say yes, and I'll get back to you," she replied, running over her options.

"Tentatively yes. Better make it worth my while, Jennings," he replied as irritatingly sly as he possibly could.

Avery stormed off, hearing Karl chuckle in the background. Why did sixteen year old boys have to be so irritating?

End of Chapter 2.

Beta: TiredofBeingNice

Thanks for reading. Ideas for Avery's bribe?

- Yumi