Free Wishing on a Star by Deborah Gregory Page A

Jungle Award. I just can’t believe we are actually going to make some money on the d.d.l. (the divette duckets license).
    We walk over to the Cheetah-Rama in our outfits. “Cheetah Girls! Cheetah Girls are in the house!” Chuchie yells down the block. It’s Halloween, so everyone is looking at us and smiling.
    We are only five blocks away from the Cheetah-Rama, which is at the end of West Broadway near the Mad Hatter Lounge. My mom goes there for tea on Sundays. The Cheetah-Rama is the dopiest dope club. They have cheetah couches and curtains, and my mom has been here a few times to dance because they play house music on special occasions. She drags Dad along, or sometimes Juanita, but sometimes she’ll come by herself because she has a lot of old school friends who are still single and who still like to hang out.
    This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a nightclub, because last year we had the Kats and Kittys Klub Christmas Egg Nogger at the Hound Club in Harlem. But this is the first time I’ve hung out at a club that my mom the diva has danced at. I feel like it’s the jointski, and I’m glad that no grown-ups are allowed here tonight—except for the Kats and Kittys Klub’s staff and treasury committee.
    Me and Chuchie have only been to the Cheetah-Rama in the daytime. It is kinda dark inside now, and I step on Aqua’s foot because I don’t see the decline of the ramp inside the entrance. I stumble for a few steps, and Chanel grabs my arm.
    “Oh, snapples, Chuchie, member that dream you had? Well, it’s not a dream!”
    I don’t care if I fall on my face. We’ve agreed to make our entrance wearing our masks, but my eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness.
    You can tell it’s Halloween, all right. The Cheetah-Rama is definitely haunted, with hundreds of Kats and Kittys wearing some pretty scary costumes.
    “Hi, Mrs. Bugge,” Do’ Re Mi yells out. Her costume is hee-larious. She is wearing a green Afro, baseball uniform, and sneakers.
    “Who is she supposed to be?” I ask, poking Aqua, who is staring at her.
    “Menace Robbins!” she snips back.
    “Oh, that guy from the Houston Oilys basketball team?” I ask.
    “It’s the Oilers!” Aqua snips.
    Okay, so I never watch basketball games. Apparently, sports are a very big thing down south, according to the twins.
    This is definitely a live party. It is wall-to-wall thumpin’—the music, the crowd, the lights. The excitement in the air is thumping, too.
    People turn to look at us. The Cheetah Girls have definitely made an entrance. It was worth almost falling on my face!
    “Cheetah Girls come out at night, baby!” I scream, throwing my hands in the air like I just don’t care. Every eye in the house is on us, including some I can’t see.
    “Bubbles, don’t look now,” Chanel whispers. She is in back of me, pulling the tail on Do’ Re Mi’s cat suit, causing Do’ to squeal. I turn, and Chanel whispers, “Don’t look. Don’t look.”
    I look, anyway. There is someone grinning in a Batman mask. “Holy, cannoli!” I giggle to Chanel. “Batman has big feet.” Batman starts walking toward me, but his cape isn’t flapping in the wind.
    “Hey, Cheetah Girl!”
    I know that voice. Oh, no, it can’t be. The Red Snapper turned into a Caped Crusader? Gotham City is in deep herring. “Derek?”
    “That’s me.
C’est moil
”
    “Since when did you become a member?”
    “Since you are,
ma chérie.
”
    “Oh, it’s like that,” I say, smirking. His family has the duckets. Why am I surprised that he joined? Copycat.
    “Are you taking French in school?” Chanel asks him, poking fun at him.
    “
Qui, oui, mademoiselle
” Derek says, grabbing Chanel’s hand to kiss it.
    “We’re glad to see ya, Mr.
Oui, Oui!
” Chanel says, choking, taking her hand back and wiping it on her cat suit.
    Derek seems so different without his Johnny BeDown hookups.
    “Where’s Robin?” I ask, referring to his friend Mackerel, who also goes to