Raisin Rodriguez & the Big-Time Smooch Read Free Page A

new black, and to all black, which is of course the old black, but nothing looks right. It’s time to face facts. Even the most beautiful designer evening gown, made especially to be worn to the Most Fabulous Human in the Universe Awards (broadcast live from Television City in Hollywood), hand-sewn in purple satin . . . with a ruched bodice . . . and a magenta velvet bow . . . trimmed with Swarovski crystal, could not look good with the industrial-strength Brillo pad that’s growing out of my scalp. (But let’s put it on hold for my next good hair day.)
    I need to cover up that eyesore with a baseball hat, throw on a plain button-down shirt and a pair of jeans, and move on with life.
    PS—Thank goodness I’m not dressing for the Fiona and Haileys anymore. If accidentally revealing their innermost secrets in my blog a couple of weeks ago while uncovering my desperation for their acceptance hadn’t severed our relations, this outfit definitely would have.
    PPS—Unfortunately, I am dressing for CJ, who may still go for the severed-relations option.
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12:45 PM, EST
    Help! I’ve created a Franken-Jeremy.
    Remember when he was my sweet and loyal friend whose biggest problems were a couple of freckles and a simple case of loudyitis? Well, ever since I wrote that article about him for the school newspaper—about how strong and brave and good at prank calling he is—his head has swelled to a million pounds. And who could blame him, really? Everyone’s treating him as if those things I said about him were true.
    Including Lynn!
    I had no idea how widespread it had become until today at lunch.
    It started out as normal and innocent as any other lunch. With a Sparkles fashion-check stop.
    It began with him waving his arm up and down the length of my outfit as if he were an inspector at the airport. “New Girl. A button-down shirt and jeans? With a baseball hat? Is everything okay?” he asked, his perfectly tweezed eyebrows crinkling in concern.
    â€œI had a rough morning,” I told him, lifting my hat to show him what I had done.
    He covered his mouth in shock.
    â€œDon’t tell me!” he said, jutting out his hand to give me the stop signal. “You were trying to look good for a certain someone whose initials are C and J and you burned your hair with a clothes iron.”
    It’s incredible. I don’t know how he does it. When I nodded, he took me in his arms and hugged me. Then we swayed back and forth, locked in our heartfelt embrace.
    Suddenly I heard a very loud voice from behind me.
    â€œRae. Did you hear the good news? Lynn appointed me guest editor at the zine.”
    I knew I had to be hearing things—the stress from this morning and all.
    â€œDid you hear what I said, Rae? I’m working on the ’zine.”
    This time it sounded so real, I had to unlock from Sparkles to see if the voice had a body.
    It did. A body with freckles all over it.
    â€œIsn’t that awesome, Rae?” the freckled body asked. “You and me working on the ’zine, collaborating together? You doing all that funny creative writing that you do, me coming up with assignments for you. . . .”
    â€œThat’s great, Jer . . . really great.”
    â€œYou coming up with all those fantastic zingers, me helping you see what works and what doesn’t. . . .”
    â€œReally, Jer, I can’t wait.”
    â€œYou pumping out the jokes, me deciding whether they’re funny or not. . . .
    â€œOh, and don’t worry. I won’t boss you around too much,” he said, giving me a little wink as he reached for a plate of flounder.
    â€œOkay, Jeremy, I get the picture.”
    I just can’t believe Lynn invited Jeremy to join CoolerThanYou. It was supposed to be my special thing. I mean, who’s Lynn going to invite next? Galenka Popodakolis? Not that there’s anything wrong with Galenka. It’s just that if she writes anything