Cloudy with a Chance of Boys Read Online Free PDF

doodled Oscar the Grouch, and now I vehemently colored in his garbage can. I don’t know why I was cheesed off that my best friend since kindergarten kept talking about boys more and more these days. Maybe I felt left out. Like she was part of a club I didn’t belong to. But I didn’t even want to be in a club that had to do with boys. I guess I was worried that we’d grow apart.
    “Stevie, when are you going to wake up and smell the cookies? Everybody in our grade is getting into stuff.”
    “What stuff? Going to summer camp?”
    “Ha, ha. Very funny. Boy stuff. I know at least two girls our age at school who have boyfriends. And everybody knows Madison Meyers kissed Nick Stephanopoulos . . . in the girls’ bathroom!”
    “How do you know that wasn’t just a big rumor?”
    “Trust me. I know. Because Madison told Sierra and Sierra told Sara and Sara told me that he stepped on her toe and crushed it with his big old boy feet.”
    I let out a snigger.
    “There’s even a blog about it.”
    “A blog!”
    “Face it. You’re going to have to like a boy sometime. Hold hands. Maybe even go out.”
    “Like on a date? Are you bonkers?” Inside I was secretly wondering, Why don’t I care about this stuff like other girls my age? Was I missing out on something? Am I weird? Is something wrong with me?
    I hated that I was second-guessing myself.
    “Are you listening?” Olivia asked, waving a hand at me. “Trust me. You don’t want to be a major boy repeller. You might as well just hang garlic around your neck.”
    “At least I’ll keep away vampires.”
    “Ha, ha,” said Olivia, inspecting a patch of paint on the wall.
    “I think the paint fumes have gone to your head. For your information, I’m not going out with some random kid. It’s so completely and totally embarrassing. I mean, parents would have to drive us! And what if he tried to hold hands or something? People would see.”
    “Okay. I get it. All I’m saying is . . . you should talk to that kid. If you don’t know what to talk about, just tell him you need help with your cloud identification project.”
    “But I don’t need help.”
    “I know you don’t need help. But he doesn’t know you don’t need help. Anyway, it doesn’t matter if you need help or not. The point is, you pretend you need help.”
    “ You need help,” I said. I couldn’t help laughing a little.
    “Just talk to him. Be a friend. You said yourself he needs a friend.”
    “Hello! What have I been saying? He’s a boy ! In case you hadn’t noticed, I have all sisters. No brothers. I don’t know the first thing when it comes to boys.”
    “What’s to know?” Olivia starts ticking stuff off on her fingers. “They like sports and UFOs and pulling wings off bugs and taking stuff apart.”
    “And you left out the part about how boys can be pretty annoying.”
    “At first he was kind of annoying, but then he was pretty funny, don’t you think?”
    Silence. I concentrated on my doodling. I drew a sky full of stars and swirly clouds to rival Van Gogh’s. Doodling gave me a chance to half think my own thoughts while Olivia talked her head off, rehashing the conversation from the assembly.
    “ . . . and you’re all, ‘My friends call me Stevie,’ and laughing and batting your eyelashes,” she teased.
    I looked up. “I was not batting my eyelashes. A person has to blink!” I protested.
    “Whatever . . .”
    When I looked back down at my night sky, I’d drawn squiggles, peace signs, a butterfly, a moth, and an owl. The owl had two round Os for eyes, and, without thinking, I’d made them into a pair of glasses.
    I closed my notebook with a snap. “I better go. Dad’s making his famous curry, and he’ll freak if I’m late for dinner.”

The next day, I was tiptoeing into Alex’s room, trying not to make noise, when Joey popped up from behind the bed. “AAAGH!” I screeched. “Jo-ey! Stop scaring me like that. What are you doing in here,