Cat on a Hottie's Tin Roof

1 Yummiest Harmonies Ever "I've e-mailed Annie seventeen times in four days, Mom, andstillno answer from her!" I pointed at the blank computer screen with a limp wrist. Mom shook her head and handed me a five-dollar bill. "Look, Cathy," she said. "You've moped for four days now. If you're not going to try to find a new friend, at least go to the store for me. We need a half dozen corn on the cob for dinner." I gawked at her and blurted out, "Try to find a new friend . . . in my grade . . . at my school, Mom?" Itsked. "You know Lewis Elementary is filled with cliques so tight you couldn't crack them open with a jackhammer!" Mom took my arm, led me downstairs, opened the front door and gently nudged me onto the porch. "How about those two girls who live on Garr Street?" she asked. "The ones who wear cowboy boots?" She started to close the door on me. I held it open and said, "Billie and Brooke. FYI, Mom, they're horse freaks. They're like two cowgirls joined at the chaps. They spend every free second at some ranch riding huge stallions or something" "Well, then," Mom interrupted, and continued firmly, "while you walk to QuikPick for me, think about another girl you might call. You're smart, Cathy. Put your cleverness to work." She smiled her discussion-is-over smile, peeled my fingers off the door and shut it on me. I did a major huff and turned around, then trudged down Lucille Street Hill toward QuikPick. As if being smart would helpthat was precisely why I was in social crisis mode! Way back in first grade, Annie and I got blacklisted as brainiacs and the nerd label had stuck like glue ever since. No kids besides Annie ever stooped to speak to me. But now Annie's family had moved to Paris, and my one and only friend in the cosmic universe was gone! Sixth grade was starting in just ten short dayshow could I face it alone? I sighed and sulked on. It was super-hot, humid and windy out. Typical for the last week in August in the Twin Cities metro. Yuck. My limp, stringy hair kept flying in my face and mini-dust devils blew out of the gutter and managed to blast under my wire-rim glasses. I was sure I looked like a total nerdand that's when it hit me: Greg Twitchell. He was the only other kid at Lewis Elementary who actually talked to me. Greg, Annie and I were tied for top student/top nerd status at our school. He always had his head bent over an encyclopedia or calculator, but sometimes he'd look up when I walked past his desk and say things like "How many extra-credit points did you get? I bet you did great." My old holey tennies slowed to a stop. I turned around and headed away from QuikPick. I'd take a detour to the store . . . by way of Martin Avenue. I knew Greg lived there. Once I'd seen him fixing his bicycle chain in front of a red house with white trim. Maybe Greg and I could eat lunches together in the cafeteria, so I wouldn't have to sit alone in that big creepy room. It wouldn't be as good as having a girlfriend, but at least it was a start. I marched up three long city blocks and found the red house. Hiding behind an old oak tree on the boulevard, I stood on tiptoe, trying to conduct a little espionage. But a row of bushes totally obscured my view. I scaled the trunk of the oak tree to get a better view. I wound my arms and legs tightly around a thick branch, then peeked through the leaves. There was no sign of life in the yard or in the windows. [read more]