Wishing on a Star Read Online Free PDF

sister. Just the way she acts with Pucci, her little brother. I wonder where Do’ Re Mi’s real mother is.
    “You know we’re the Kats, not the Kittys, right?” I say to amuse Do’ Re Mi, then do the handshake wiggle with Chanel.
    “I heard that. What’s that you two are doing?” she asks, extending her hand, too.
    “Do it like this,” Chanel says, showing her. The three of us wiggle our fingertips together. “All right! We got growl power, yo!”
    I can see it coming. Now that we’ve found Dorinda, all our dreams are gonna come true. All we need now is another backup singer or two, and we’ll be ready to pounce.

Chapter
4
    With seven dollars in my cheetah wallet until Monday, there is only one filling solution before the Kats and Kittys Klub meeting: the Pizza Pit on Eighty-fourth and Columbus. When we step to the cash register to pay, much to our dee-light, Do’ Re Mi makes a donation into the collection plate. “I got it,” she says, giving the clerk $7.85 for our pizza slices and Cokes. “You’re definitely crew now,” Chanel says, giggling to the ka-ching of the cash register. One thing about Dorinda: She is generous with her money, even though she’s got to work for it herself. I’ve never known anybody like that before.
    We walk to the back of the Pizza Pit so we can sit away from all the mothers with road-runner kids. The last time we sat up front, one of them threw a Dino-saurus Whacky Baby right into Chanel’s large cup of Coke and knocked it over.
    Chanel is sitting facing the entrance. “Look who just walked in,” she says, talking through her straw, then quickly adds, “Don’t turn around yet!”
    It’s too late. I already have—just in time to catch the grand entrance of those fabulous Walker twins from Houston. They are about the same height and size, but one of the twins is a chocolate shade lighter than the other. You can tell they’re not from New York. The lighter-skinned of the two has on a hot pink turtleneck with a navy blue skirt. The other one has on an orange coatdress with ivory on the side. They look sorta church-y—at Eastertime.
    “Heh, y’all. How y’all doin’?” one of them says. The twins are kinda friendly in a goofy sort of way, and their Southern accents just sorta shout at ya, “Y’ALL, we in the house!”
    “Wuzup? You two coming to the Kats meeting?” I ask them, knowing full well they ain’t here for a lobster cookout.
    “Yeah, we’re going over there. What we talking about tonight?”
    “It’s time for general elections. And we have to begin planning our next event. Me and Chanel are on the party committee. What committee are you on?”
    “Volunteer services. We wanna plan something for a Christmas drive at a church or a women’s shelter.”
    “We’re planning to throw a dope Halloween bash,” I counter. “Y’all missed our Christmas party.” All of “a sudden, I notice that I am trying to talk like them.
    “Is that right?” one of the twins asks with a smile. She has nice lips—what we call juicy lips. Her eyes are big, too, like Popeye’s.
    “What’s your name?” Dorinda asks her.
    “Y’all, forgive me. I’m Aquanette,” exclaims the twin with the pink acrylic nail tips. Okay, pink acrylics tips means Aquanette, I tell myself so I don’t forget who’s who. I wonder if Aquanette puts the rhinestones on her Pee Wee Press-On Nails by herself.
    “You belong to Kats, too?”
    “No. I’m just visiting. I’m Dorinda. Dorinda Rogers.”
    “They got good slices?” Aquanette asks Dorinda. She can’t help but notice how quickly Dorinda is eating her food.
    “Don’t ask me if they’re good. I’m just hungry,” Dorinda says, smiling at her. Dorinda is s-o-o nice to everybody.
    “We’d better order. We’ll be right back,” Aquanette says.
    Anginette, it turns out, is the more vocal one in the ordering department. “Can we get a slice with anchovies, extra pepperoni, mushrooms, and sausage?” she asks the counter