Girls Acting Catty Read Online Free PDF Page A

told me he was born in Jamaica and only moved to California four years ago, I always hear it. Tobias is pale, with shaggy dark hair and glasses and a big nose and pimples that creep from his cheeks down to his neck, and disappear into his shirt collar. Basically, he’s not so cute, but he seems to think he is.
    Even though I was feeling lousy after the whole Taylor/leg-shaving thing, I stood up tall and swaggered over to them, throwing my backpack on the table and saying, “Hey, what’s up?”
    Then I pulled out my notebook and doled out the work before they had a chance to argue with me. “There are six sections in a lab, so let’s split them up and each do two. Tobias, you can write the introduction and hypothesis. Oliver, you list the materials and supplies and then explain the procedure. And I’ll write up our observations and the conclusion.”
    â€œHow come you get to do the conclusion?” asked Tobias.
    I crossed my arms over my chest and glared. “Do you want to do it? Because I don’t really care.”
    â€œNo, whatever. It’s fine.” Tobias pushed up his glasses, bent over his notebook, and started writing.
    I had to smile. If someone didn’t know better, they’d think I was pretty bossy, but I’m not. Really. It’s all an act.
    At the beginning of the school year, Oliver and Tobias hogged all the lab equipment and they never let me do anything, but then I used some of Pepper’s dog-training lessons on them and things have been okay ever since. For everyone, I think. We finished writing up our lab in less than two hours. Then Oliver’s mom drove us all home.
    I was so glad to be back. At least until I walked through the front door and heard loud voices coming from the kitchen.
    â€œThis isn’t a big deal,” Dweeble said. “I’m sorry, but I just assumed that you’d want to change your name when we got married. Traditionally—”
    â€œWhen have I ever been traditional?” Mom asked. “And what about Annabelle? I can’t have a different last name than my own daughter.”
    â€œYou didn’t let me finish. I was about to say that I never thought about that, but—”
    â€œWell, you should have.”
    â€œThere you go, interrupting me again.”
    Yikes. I froze, just inside the front door, not wanting to eavesdrop but too curious to move. I’d never heard Mom and Dweeble fight before, and wondered if they were breaking up. They’d have to call off the wedding. Then Mom and I might have to move back to North Hollywood. I’d just gotten used to things here, and I didn’t want to move. Not even after the humiliation in gym class.
    I opened the door again, and slammed it shut as hard as I could, yelling, “Hi, I’m home!”
    They stopped talking immediately, and then a few seconds later my mom came into the entryway with a tight, forced-looking smile on her face. “Hi, Annabelle. Did you finish your book report?”
    â€œIt’s a lab report,” I replied. “Um, can I ask you something?” I needed to talk to her about shaving. Not only because of what happened in PE today, but also because I was curious. I wasn’t only asking because of Taylor. “It’s important,” I said, making my way upstairs and hoping she’d come too.
    â€œWhat is it?” She glanced toward the kitchen, distracted. I wasn’t going to ask her out in the open, when Dweeble could walk in at any second. But she wasn’t following me to my room. So instead, I asked her if I could go over to Rachel’s.
    Mom glanced at her watch. “That’s fine, but don’t stay for too long. Ted and I are making lasagna and it should be ready in about an hour.”
    I felt like asking her if “making lasagna” was some new term for “yelling at each other,” but I didn’t want her to know I’d heard anything. So instead I