Free Girls Acting Catty by Leslie Margolis

gave the command, Pepper rolled over.
    â€œGood boy,” Jason said, and fed him another biscuit. “Want to try?”
    He offered me a biscuit.
    â€œUm . . .” I stalled. I wanted to try. I really, really wanted to, but I figured that the more time I spent with Jason, the more likely I was to humiliate myself— again. So I said, “Sorry. Too much homework,” and raced upstairs—stumbling on the first step.
    â€œYou okay?” asked Jason.
    â€œFine,” I called, scrambling to my room and slamming the door behind me.
    I pulled my social studies book out of my backpack and opened it up, but couldn’t focus. I had all this nervous pent-up energy and couldn’t sit still.
    It’s because I had the strangest feeling, like I was forgetting something, or something was missing. Soon I realized that someone was missing. My dog.
    Usually Pepper followed me around the house. He slept at my feet. And whenever I went upstairs to do homework, he hung out in my room, staring out the window or just napping on my bed. But tonight he was nowhere to be seen.
    I closed my notebook, tiptoed downstairs, and peeked into the living room. Jason was watching TV on the couch. And Pepper was stretched out right below him, with his head resting on Jason’s foot.
    This was nuts! Pepper used to love me the best, but now he had a new favorite person. And the craziest thing about it was, I couldn’t even blame him.

chapter eight
going nowhere
    W hen I got to our table at lunch the next day, I found everyone huddled around Emma.
    â€œIt finally happened,” she told us.
    â€œYes!” Yumi pumped her fist in the air.
    Rachel clapped baby claps.
    â€œShh! Be cool,” said Yumi.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” I asked.
    Claire leaned close and explained. “Emma is going out with Joe, the Corn Dog Boy.” She sounded like a spy revealing top secret information.
    The Corn Dog Boys share our table during lunch, not because we choose to sit near them, but just because that’s how it worked out. Basically, they’re four sixth-grade boys. They usually don’t bug us, but sometimes they try and hog the whole table, or throw food at each other, or burp to the tune of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which is way annoying. Oh— and last month they had a corn-dog-eating contest, which is how they got their name. Except I don’t think they actually know we call them that.
    â€œWow!” I said.
    â€œPretty crazy, huh?” asked Rachel.
    â€œTotally,” I said. But to be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what “going out” meant. Like, where were they going? I knew better than to ask, though. Instead I chalked it up to just one more mysterious thing about going to school with boys.
    I sat down, pulled out my turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich, and listened carefully. It didn’t take long to catch on. “Going out” meant that Emma and Joe were boyfriend and girlfriend.
    I could hardly believe that one of my friends actually had a boyfriend. I was impressed because it seemed so grown up and cool. But then I wondered, did this mean everything would change?
    So far it was too soon to tell. Everyone just ate lunch, as usual. Emma sat at one end of the table, and Joe sat at the opposite end, and they didn’t even look at each other.
    The Corn Dog Boys wolfed down their food fast, as usual, and then went off to play Frisbee in the quad before next period.
    Once they were gone, everyone huddled around Emma. “So how did it happen?” Claire asked.
    â€œWell,” said Emma. “We sit next to each other in math, and my locker is right above his locker, and we always kind of smile at each other, and I’ve thought he was really cute since day one. He’s got the most adorable smile, don’t you think?”
    Everyone nodded. I did too, even though I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Joe smile. I’d seen him stuff his