Top Ten Clues You’re Clueless Read Online Free PDF

Gabe needs all the help he can get.”
    “So, what should I do?”
    She arches one dark eyebrow until it nearly disappears under her platinum swoop of
     bangs, now matted to her forehead with precipitation. “I usually go with: get the
     carts.”
    “Okay.” No need to get nasty, I think. I should say it, but I’ve never been one for confrontation. Even less so
     since we moved and I lost Eva. Although not making waves hasn’t been all that effective
     as a friend-making strategy, if I think about it.
    Leaving Sammi at the crowded cart corral, I decide to try the next one down the same
     parking row. It’s farther out, and has fewer carts in it. Probably a good place to
     start for my first time.
    There are huge, sloppy puddles of slush around the corral, and icy water oozes through
     the eyelets at the bottom of my Converse All-Stars. But that’s barely noticeable compared
     to how badly my nose is running. This is not a glamorous job, and I’m not sorry I’ve
     never done it before.
    I get a short train of carts going. It’s not bad at first, but once there are four
     of them linked, the weight becomes a serious force to be reckoned with. By the time
     I’ve gathered all seven, I can’t move them.
    “Sammi!” I shout. There’s no way I’ll get these back to her on my own. “Sammi!”
    She doesn’t hear me.
    I don’t want to walk away from my effort, especially since the linked carts are partially
     blocking the neighboring car.
    “Sammi!” I try again.
    No response.
    All right. I have to figure this out. Stepping back a few feet, I gather myself with
     a quick breath, then take a running start. My hands hit the plastic handle of the
     last cart, jarring my arms up through my elbows, but the train moves! I let out a
     triumphant “Ha!” and drive my feet into the pavement, leaning into the inertia of
     the carts with everything I’ve got.
    Now that they’re in motion, it’s a little easier. I get them past two cars before
     the trouble starts.
    I’ve been staring at the ground, head bent into the effort, and when I look up, I
     see that the lead cart is no longer directly in front of me. It’s taken a distinct
     right turn, like a drunk leading a conga line. In fact, it’s headed straight for a
     parked car, with the weight of the six carts behind it joining in the effort.
    “No!” I shout, pulling up to an abrupt stop. All I succeed in doing, though, is loosening
     the last cart from the line. I try to run ahead and grab the leader, but I’m too late.
    With a sickening crunch, the carts ram into the bumper of a silver Toyota.
    My hands fly up to my mouth. Footsteps come toward me and suddenly Sammi is there,
     yanking on the carts.
    “What did you do?” she hisses.
    “I’m sorry! I didn’t—”
    “Jesus, Chloe! Look at this!”
    The corner of the bumper is cracked, as though a giant child has picked it up and
     casually tapped it on the ground.
    “Oh my God!” Tears sting the back of my eyes.
    “Come on! Get it together.” Sammi gives the train of carts another huge tug and suddenly
     they’re back on a straight path. She looks around the lot quickly. “Go to the back.
     Push!”
    “What?”
    “Push!” she shouts.
    “But—”
    “Damn, Chloe, would you just frigging push?!”
    I scurry back, still sniffling, and once again hurl myself at the carts to get them
     rolling. Sammi pulls on the lead cart until we have all seven past the train she already
     constructed. Together we muscle the carts into line, getting them connected to the
     front of the red Mule.
    She has me hold the last one in place while she stretches out a long bungee cord to
     lash them all together.
    “Now we go inside,” she says.
    “What about the car?”
    “Look.” Her gloved finger extends to the large white sign presiding over the cart
     corral. Under the friendly, green letters that spell out Please return your carts here! are smaller, more businesslike black letters that read, GoodFoods Market is