Free Raisin Rodriguez & the Big-Time Smooch by Judy Goldschmidt Page B

much better,” I continued, trying to slip out the door before giving my mother a moment’s opportunity to destroy all my chances at happiness.
    â€œRaaay-zin,” my mother yelled, stopping me in my tracks. “Tomorrow is the only free night we have.” It’s amazing how directly the sound of her voice links up with the failure of my love life.
    â€œBut Mom . . .” I started.
    â€œI’m sorry. Whatever it is will have to wait.”
    For what? A piece of meat? I wanted to say. But I didn’t. Then she might have killed me. And I’m almost positive I have a better chance with CJ alive than I do dead.
    Almost positive.
    PS—It’d be great if I could use the extra time to get rid of my reputation.
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Comments:
    Logged in at 8:32 PM, EST
    PiaBallerina: Don’t worry about CJ. Just blame your parents and try to make plans for the day after tomorrow. I really don’t think it’ll make a difference.
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Logged in at 8:37 PM, EST kweenclaudia: how hard could it be to get rid of your reputation? just find someone and kiss him. anyone. how about that jeremy, for instance? someone like him, who’s loud, would be perfect. all he’d have to do is tell one person and the whole school would hear about it.

Wednesday, December 1
    7:06 AM, EST
    Feline Friends Forever,
    I agree. Operation Reputation Removal must begin at once. But kissing Jeremy is not the answer. For all the little problems I have with him, Jeremy is like a brother to me. (Except for the freckle part. We in the Rodriguez family aren’t susceptible to freckles or any related conditions.)
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12:53 PM, EST
    I just saw the absentee list. Dylan’s been out since Monday. Probably has mono, the little make-out machine.
    Must use Dylan’s absence to own best advantage.
    Too busy for pronoun usage as am in training for Operation Reputation Removal.
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8:57 PM, EST
    Oh, the emotional anguish!
    Can someone please fly here and wash my brains out with soap? Boil my thoughts? Erase my memories? Or maybe I should just check into a mental hospital and stay until the damage is reversed.
    You won’t believe why my mom and Horace took me out to dinner!
    They . . .
    Took me . . .
    Out to dinner . . .
    Because . . .
    Oh, I can’t say it.
    I can’t even think it.
    Trust me, though. It was awful.
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Comments:
    Logged in at 9:07 PM, EST
    kweenclaudia: you can’t just put it out there and then take it back again. besides, this one sounds good.
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Logged in at 9:10 PM, EST
    PiaBallerina: Claudia’s right, Rae. We’re dying to know.
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9:25 PM, EST
    Fine. Be that way. I’ll tell you what happened. Don’t worry about me. If you don’t hear from me in a few days, just assume my brain withered due to hideous memory poisoning.
    So, my mom picked me up after school. I knew we were in trouble as soon as I set eyes on Lola sitting in the backseat.
    â€œWhat’s she doing here?” I asked as I opened the car door. “And why is she allowed to wear purple lipstick if I’m only allowed to wear clear gloss?”
    â€œIt’s not lipstick,” my mother said. “She had that purple ketchup with her fries before we left the house, and she got it all over her face.”
    â€œIf she already ate, then why’s she coming?” I asked as I climbed into the backseat.
    â€œCouldn’t find a babysitter,” my mom said, pulling up to her office building.
    â€œWhy are you stopping here?”
    â€œTo pick up your stepfather. Remember him?” she said, sounding annoyed and impatient.
    â€œDude . . .” Horace said when he slid into the front seat next to my mom. “Ready for some raw fish?”
    â€œAren’t we having . . . a . . . nice piece of meat?” I asked.
    â€œNo, sweetheart,” my mom started. “I thought we could try out this nice sushi restaurant I read about in Philadelphia magazine.”
    And with those