Page 13 (1/2)

“You look like a farirl,” Kitty says with a touch of meanness, and I know she’s still at least a little bitfaded shortalls and a scoop-neck floral shirt It does look farot left her brown lace-up co With thick socks, they’re a perfect fit “Will you braid my hair to the side?” I ask her

“You don’t deserve a braid fro her fork “Besides, a braid would take it too far”

Kitty is only nine, but she has good fashion sense

“Agreed,”up from his paper

I putlunch down next to her plate It’s got all her favorite things: a Brie sandwich, barbecue chips, rainbow cookies, the good kind of apple juice

“Have a great first day,” my dad chirps He pops out his cheek for a kiss, and I bend down and give hiive Kitty one too, but she turns her cheek

“I got your favorite kind of apple juice and your favorite kind of Brie,” I tell her pleadingly I really don’t want us to start the school year off on a bad note

“Thank you,” she sniffs

Before she can stop ht she yelps Then I getand head out the front door It’s a new day, a new year I have a feeling it’s going to be a good one

Josh is already in the car, and I run over and open the door and slide inside

“You’re on tih five, and when I slap it, our hands ood one,” he says

“An eight at least,” I agree We whizz past the pool, the sign for our neighborhood, then past the Wendy’s

“Has Kitty forgiven you yet for the other night?”

“Not quite, but hopefully soon”

“Nobody can hold a grudge like Kitty,” Josh says, and I nod wholeheartedly I can never stay e like her life depended on it

“I ood first-day-of-school lunch, so I think that’ll help,” I say

“You’re a good big sister”

I pipe up with “As good as Margot?” and together we chorus, “Nobody’s as good as Margot”

16

SCHOOL HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN AND found its own rhythm The first couple of days of school are always throay days of handing out books and syllabuses and figuring out where you’re sitting and who you’re sitting with Nohen school really begins

For gym, Coach White set us loose outside to enjoy the war the track field Chris is telling me about a party she went to over Labor Day weekend “I al I earing extensions It’s not my fault my hair is fabulous”

As we round the corner for our third lap, I catch Peter Kavinsky looking atinultiuys When we pass thes over to us and says, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Chris and I look at each other “Her or me?” she asks

“Lara Jean”