Cloudy with a Chance of Boys Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Why?”
    “I don’t know. Why not? Because Zoey sounds like a writer’s name. Because I’m feeling . . . I don’t know . . . wild and weird and wonderful today, I think, I mean, I don’t know what I’m feeling, actually.”
    Joey bolted up. “Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out because you sound like Alex. The not-making-sense part, I mean.”
    “Don’t worry, Duck. I’m still me,” I assured her. But inside I felt like a different me. All fluttery and heart-skippy and breathless.
    “So you’re not going to stop wearing socks, are you? Or draw black lines around your eyes and rub perfume on yourself from samples in magazines and start going all gaga for boys?”
    “NO! Of course not!” I told her.
    “Good. Because I can only handle one weird sister at a time.”
    The state of Minnesota had floated away and the capital H looked like a number 4 now. The rest of the sky was filled with flying saucer clouds.
    “Did you know if you see a fish in the clouds, it’s supposed to mean that you’re going to be rich?”
    “I see a fish!”
    “You do not.”
    “Did you know if you see a frog on skis it’s good luck?”
    “You just made that up. You have frogs on the brain, Duck.”
    “Speaking of frogs . . .”
    “Yes, Sir Croaks-a-Lot can stay in our room. As long as he doesn’t croak-a-lot a lot!”

I walked Joey home, then grabbed my bike and headed over to Olivia’s. She lives in Pleasant Hill Palisades. Dad calls it Potato Skin Palaces. Say no more. Every house is taupe, tan, raw umber, burnt sienna. A.k.a. brown.
    Inside the front door, I kicked my shoes off and padded upstairs in my sock feet to her room.
    “Ta-da!” she said, spinning around her room like a jewelry-box ballerina.
    “Ta-da what?” Same four-poster bed with canopy. Same comforter with seven hundred matching pillows. Same everything.
    “Duh! I painted my room!”
    “Wasn’t it always white?”
    “It was white. Now it’s Divine Vanilla. Don’t you love it?”
    “Yeah, so much I want to lick it,” I teased.
    We plopped on the floor, talking about everything from homework to her weirdo cello teacher to favorite pizza toppings. While we chatted, I doodled in my science notebook with my cupcake-scented pen.
    Then, out of the blue, she hit me with it.
    “That kid so likes you.”
    My pen stopped. “Huh? What kid?”
    “You know what kid. The kid sitting behind us at the assembly today. Oscar the Grouch. He is so into you.”
    “Oh, the kid who got us into detention! He is not so into me. You’re cracked. G-Y-H-E — Get Your Head Examined.”
    “Are you kidding? He was only bumping into you on purpose and pulling your hair every other second.”
    “Yeah. Which only proves how annoying he is. Besides, if he’s so into me, then why was he talking to you the whole time?”
    “Because. Are you really going to tell me you don’t get it? That’s what boys do when they like you. They talk to the person that doesn’t make them nervous, even though it’s the other person they really want to talk to.”
    “You’re wack,” I told her. “He just saw me in Earth Science class probably. And he’s new. He doesn’t know anybody. That’s all. Trust me.”
    Olivia made an exasperated pfff sound, ruffling her bangs.
    “Do we have to talk about this?” I asked. “You know I hate — Never mind.”
    “You’re still mad at me, aren’t you? Uh! You are. You’re mad. This is about camp last summer, isn’t it?”
    “What about camp last summer?” I asked in a fakey voice, pretending innocence.
    “You know perfectly well what.”
    “You know what? Sometimes I wish you’d never gone to that stupid camp,” I blurted.
    “Ha! I knew it!” She lowered her voice and whispered conspiratorially. “Because I held hands with that kid, right?”
    “Yeah, some kid you knew for, like, half a second!”
    “No way. I knew him.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Matt.”
    “Matt what?”
    “Matt . . . something.”
    I had