“Hi,” I said to the kitten. “This is where you live now, okay?” She climbed up my chest and pushed at my neck with her head.
“Happy birthday, squirt,” Dad said. He came forward and tousled my hair. “We'll leave you girls alone to enjoy your presents. Holler if you need anything.”
He and Mom left the room, and I sat down on the floor with my kitten.
“What are you going to name her?” asked Chantelle.
“How about Socks?” Karen said.
“Or Mittens,” said Louise, “because of her teensy white feet. And because it rhymes with kitten.”
Chantelle wrinkled her nose. “Mittens the kitten?”
I thought for a moment, then said, “Sweetie-Pie.”
“Like Sweet-Pea, Amanda's cat!” said Chantelle.
“Yep. They're sisters.”
“Adopted sisters,” Amanda said. She grinned.
We watched as Sweetie-Pie licked her back leg. Her tongue made spiky spots on her fur.
“Well?” Louise asked. “Is that all?”
“All what?” I said.
“All the presents.”
“Yeah, I guess, butâ”
“So what are we waiting for?” She stood up and tightened her ponytail. “Let's go play on the electric chair!”
“Yeah!” said Karen.
“Me first!” cried Chantelle as she dashed for the door.
“Nuh-uh!” Louise said. “It was my idea!”
Their feet pounded the floor as they ran down the hall, everyone but me. I heard the whine of the chair's motor, followed by a burst of laughter. Someone must have tried a new trick. Or maybe whoever it was fell off. I hoped it was Louise.
I held Sweetie-Pie close and rubbed my cheek against hers. “You don't want to ride on that stupid chair, do you?” I whispered. “Huh?”
Sweetie-Pie squirmed free. She padded across the room, sniffing in the direction of the back hall.
“She's so cute,” Dinah said, appearing at the door. She knelt and scooped Sweetie-Pie into her arms.
“Why aren't you riding the chair?” I asked. It came out sounding mean, and my face grew hot.
“It's boring,” she said. “Plus, Louise won't let me. She says I'm too big.”
“Louise is a turd. Anyway, my dad's ridden on it and he's way bigger than you.”
She sat down beside me. “It's just a chair.”
Sweetie-Pie settled into Dinah's lap. From her chest came a tiny purr.
“She likes you,” I said grudgingly.
“I have four cats at home,” Dinah said. “Gypsy, Muffet, Buffy, and Katzy. They like to be scratched behind their ears, like this.” She demonstrated. “Go ahead. Try.”
I scratched behind Sweetie-Pie's ears, and her purrs grew louder. From the hall came another burst of giggles, and Dinah and I glanced at each other. She looked anxious, like she thought I might leave.
“We could try out my new Lip-Smackers,” I suggested, shifting my gaze.
“You mean it?” Dinah asked. “They're brand-new.”
“They're going to have to get used sometime.” I grabbed the Lip-Smackers from the table and lined them up, the fruit-flavored ones first and then the giant Dr Pepper at the end. I chose a white one called Coconut Crazy and smoothed it over my lips.
Dinah pointed to a red one called Strawberry Dream. “Can I try this one?”
“Smell it first to make sure you like it.”
She held it up to her nose. “I think I like it. Do you?”
I took a quick sniff. “Yeah. It smells good.”
She raised it to her lips, crossing her eyes to keep it in sight.
Today I am eleven
, I said to myself.
Eleven years
old. From down the hall I heard Karen yell that she was being squished, followed by Louise calling her a baby. In Dinah's lap, Sweetie-Pie continued to purr. I uncapped another Lip-SmackerâBursting with Blueberriesâand breathed in deep.