Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1: Not My Fault
Chapter 2: Meeting the Destruction
Chapter 3: Cat Saviors
Chapter 4: The Circle of Life
Chapter 5: Adorable Rumpelstiltskin
Chapter 6: Playing Cupid
Chapter 7: Drop the ’Tude
Chapter 8: Andromeda’s Sweetie
Chapter 9: So Extra
Chapter 10: Support Group
Chapter 11: Fang, Meet Claw
Chapter 12: The Coquí Song and the Maga Flower
Chapter 13: Playing Angry Tag
Chapter 14: The Kitten Wars
Chapter 15: Kindness Club
Chapter 16: The Cat’s Out of the Bag
Chapter 17: Matching Game
Chapter 18: Homecoming and Going
Chapter 19: Cupid’s Arrows
Sneak Peek at Blizzard Besties
Acknowledgments
Ways to Help
About the Author
Copyright
It was all the cat’s fault.
In my defense, I only fed it once. Really, how could I have resisted that sweet face? Yesterday when I saw it sitting on the snow-covered picnic table in my backyard, I snuck out of the house and placed a can of organic tuna nearby. I should have known that small decision would wreck my life. Hadn’t I learned time after time that no good deed goes unpunished?
Twenty-four hours after my spur-of-the-moment kindness, I heard the telltale sounds of something hungry rummaging in the garbage, apparently looking for more free food. If she heard the noise, Mami would send me out to check. Did she even care that I had things to do or that I was sick with a virus? I didn’t dare ask aloud in case the answer hurt more than swallowing rice pudding did.
Just when I thought Mami hadn’t heard anything, she muted the cheery Puerto Rican Christmas music on her phone and asked, “What’s making that escándalo outside?”
I kept typing at the computer, pretending I couldn’t hear the racket, as she’d called it.
“Shhh, Natalia, listen,” she whispered, and put the pudgy plastic succulent leaf down on the table. She was making flower arrangements for one of her commissions.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. The sound of a can clanking on the driveway echoed all the way into the kitchen.
Silly cat. I told it to keep the secret between us. If my mom found out I’d been feeding a stray, she’d ground me for the rest of winter break. Today was only the first day, and as soon as I shook off this bug, I intended to have the most unforgettable staycation ever.
Mami narrowed her eyes and shook her head, as if she could imagine nothing good happening outside. “Go and make sure the garbage bins are lidded, and while you’re at it, take them to the curb. Tomorrow’s garbage day.”
Although I knew this was coming, I still groaned. “Why is the garbage my job?”
But now she was the one pretending to have selective hearing. “I don’t want our leftovers attracting sabandijas,” she said. “Poor little chickens; they never hurt a soul. They were the happiest creatures ever.”
Happy creatures? I almost laughed. Give me a break. Mrs. Lind’s rooster would crow its heart out at dark o’clock every morning (and, I swear, even earlier on weekends and holidays). This week I’d slept in for the first time in ages. I was grateful the raccoon, or whatever it was, had eaten the chickens.
A terrible possibility flashed in my mind—had the cat eaten the chickens?
No way. The cat I’d fed was too small. It didn’t even have a tail, just a fluff. But what if the cat had really been that hungry? I knew nothing about cats. I’d have to ask my best friend, Reuben, if it was possible for such a small animal to have that big of an appetite.
I only had time to type the question when Mami said, “Natalia …”
“What, Mami?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m talking with Reuben!”
Reuben was also home sick with the same virus. I told him a million times not to drink from my water bottle, but did he ever listen?
When she didn’t reply, I swiveled in the computer chair to look at her.
“You’re always talking with Reuben. Since you’re on that computer all day, you could spend a little minute to send your father a note.” She smiled tightly and bobbed her head from side to side.
And this woman wondered who I got the attitude from.
I swiveled the chair back to break the eye contact, but I could still see her reflection on the screen and the smirk on her face. Writing to my dad was a topic I didn’t want to discuss right now. Or ever.
“Why are you asking me to do it?” I tried to change the subject.
“Because I did it last time and I had to clean up the mess you left. You always leave the lids on the ground.”
“I never!” I said … even though I might have left them on the ground last time. But what was I supposed to do? The bin had been full. “Can’t you ask Beli?” I forced a cough and grabbed at my throat for emphasis.
Mami laughed. “Seriously?”
Of course she would never ask my grandma. Beli was a guest, and a reluctant one to boot. She loved us, but she was used to the year-round summer weather in Puerto Rico and hated the cold. She was now in her room, the heater blasting as she watched TV. She wouldn’t leave the house unless it was absolutely necessary—or if my sister, Julieta, invited her to go shopping or something.
“What about Julieta, your favorite?” As soon as the word was out of my mouth, I wanted to bite my tongue. Telling the truth always got me in trouble.
Mami didn’t answer. Of course she wouldn’t send Juli to do anything as undignified as checking on raccoons in the garbage. Julieta always did everything perfectly right, like writing to my dad every week without being asked, plus keeping up with her own dad. She called my dad Papi and hers Dad, and they both adored her. She was everyone’s favorite.
I stomped to the door and made a show of putting my puffy red jacket on.
“Gracias, y por favor stop it with that favorite business,” Mami said, looking smug. “Your sister has been an angel lately. You could learn from her that when you spread kindness, you attract good things in your life.”
Julieta wasn’t an angel, not to me at least, and seriously, my previous experience proved that kindness didn’t always bring good things. I’d fed the cat and now it was practically haunting me.
I made a dramatic exit through the kitchen door that led to the carport, flipping my hair out of my face. Right next to the door was a photo of Papi in his fancy army uniform. Mami had put photos of him all over the house. This one sat on the wall shelf as if he were one of those peeping holiday elves.
The door slammed behind me in the wind, and I heard the photo frame fall. I cringed. Oops. Mami would think I’d thrown the door shut on purpose.
She didn’t understand. It’s not like I could spread kindness like honey butter on a warm dinner roll. When I’d been nice in the past, people like Meera Rogers had thought I was dumb and taken advantage of me. Never again!
Now, I was pretty sure that as—and I quote Mrs. Snow, the principal—“the most controversial student in Andromeda Elementary,” kind wasn’t the first word that popped into people’s minds when they thought of me.
If Papi were here, he wouldn’t send me out, or he’d at least come to check on the noise with me. He’d make it into an adventure. Although he loved Juli, he didn’t really play favorites, but a part of me liked to think I was his. Now he’d been gone for months, and who knew when he’d be back?
I told myself not to think about it too much and walked toward the bins.
“Gato!” I called in a whisper-shout.
The cat didn’
t answer, but I saw little paw prints marking the pristine snow. I followed them all the way to the bins lined up by the wall. I glanced up across the street. The Rogerses’ house was lit up and decorated for the season, unlike ours. Mami had said this Christmas would be like any other, but the truth was that without Papi nothing was the same. We hadn’t even put up a tree.
The Rogerses always had a lot of company over. I recognized their grandparents’ car parked at their curb. At least there was no sign of my ex–best friend, Meera. Seeing her every day at school was bad enough. Crossing paths with her in the neighborhood and witnessing her perfect family was the worst.
More crumpling sounds called me to the task at hand.
When I looked behind the bin and yelled, “Fuah!” all I saw was the same scared, small, hungry cat I’d fed yesterday.
It stood frozen, an old slice of pepperoni pizza in its mouth. In the almost darkness, the cat looked black, but yesterday I’d been fascinated with the different colors of its fur—white tummy and feet, red on one side of its face, and black on the other.
“Whew!” I exclaimed. “You’re lucky I found you! Better be careful! My mom will call animal control if she sees you.”
The cat flattened its ears against its head.
Raising my hand, I quickly said, “I come in peace.”
Poor cat just stared at me, breathing fast. It didn’t have a collar, but it wasn’t a pest, a sabandija. It hadn’t jumped at me to claw off my face yet. When I stretched out my hand to pet the gatito, it sniffed at me and took a step in my direction. Right then, a neighborhood dog suddenly barked, and the cat darted away straight to our storage shed, where Mami kept old flower arrangement materials and other craft things. She hardly ever went in there in the winter, so it was the secret hiding place for all my forbidden slime supplies.
Yesterday after I fed the cat, I’d gone in there to play with my favorite slime recipes. I’d saved a few tubs from the big purge. It had taken a while for Pink Rose, Slime Supreme’s bestselling scent, to soften in my hands, but the work kneading it had been worth it. Playing with slime always soothed me.
Now I couldn’t remember if I’d closed the door tightly when I left the shed.
Before I checked to make sure the cat didn’t get into any of Mami’s things, I dragged the bins to the curb, huffing and puffing with the effort.
While I was fighting with the wind for the lid to stay put on top, Meera Rogers walked out of her house with her dog, Captain America.
I didn’t want her to see me, so I stood still, hoping to blend into the shadows. Nothing escaped Cap’s attention, though, and he saw me, of course. He barked, all friendly, saying hi. He didn’t understand Meera and I weren’t friends anymore. But when I looked over, I caught Meera’s eye by accident.
Hurriedly, I smashed the garbage bags with the lid and ran inside my house. I’d have to wait to go check on the cat. I turned to lock the door and almost bumped into Beli.
“What were you doing out in the cold so long, mi amor?” she asked. “Your sore throat won’t ever go away if you don’t take care of yourself.”
“Mami sent me to take the trash out.” I tried not to whine.
“In this cold?”
I nodded while holding a hand to my throat and sending Mami a look that meant See? which she ignored.
Beli shook her head and clicked her tongue. “You must stay nice and warm if you want to get better! Yesterday you were in that shed for hours! It must be full of mice in there,” she mumbled.
Mice! I shivered, and she handed me the steaming cup of hot chocolate she held in her hand as if she’d been just waiting for me. Warmth spread all over me with her lovely gesture.
“Gracias, Beli!” I took a sip and scalded my tongue. “Ay! It’s hot!”
“Sorry!” She winced. “You know I’m not the best judge of temperature in this cold. Brrrr, I can’t wait to go back to the island.”
From the kitchen table, where she was putting away the flower cuttings, jars, decorative sand, and ribbons scattered all around, Mami sighed. “Ay, Mami!” she said to Beli, whining in the same voice I used, the one she always complained about. “At least pretend you’re happy to be here. Mako has you all year long, and the girls and I need you too.”
Mako was my uncle, Tío Manuel Joaquín, and Beli lived with him and his family in the most gorgeous beach house in Puerto Rico.
“Gina, bebé,” Beli said as she went over to Mami and kissed the top of her head. “You’ll always be my favorite girl. You know that, cierto?”
In that moment, Julieta came out of her room like a gust of wind. “Talking about favorite girls? Here I am!” She laughed. “You ladies ready to go?”
My sister looked like a teen winter princess out of a shopping catalog, gift bags dangling from her arms and all. I blew the hair out of my face. Why didn’t my hair look like that, vibrant and alive? When I tried to curl it like hers, the edges bunched up in tight curls along my hairline like the crimped edge of an empanada before collapsing like wet paper towels.
Beli and Mami beamed at her. And who could blame them? Juli was the most stylish seventeen-year-old in our whole town of Andromeda. She was popular, relatively nice for being so spoiled, and so smart she was still trying to choose from a handful of colleges that were sure to accept her. I was candlelight, and she was the sun.
“Where are you going?” I asked, and took another sip of hot cocoa. The steam warmed my frozen face, but just barely.
“Mami, Beli, and I are going on a special mission.”
“To do what?” I asked, but what I really wanted to know was why they hadn’t invited me.
“We’re doing random acts of kindness,” Julieta said. “Delivering anonymous presents to people who might be feeling lonely during the holidays.”
“Anoma-what?” I asked, my eyes going from Mami to Beli. Now I noticed that Mami had changed out of her pajamas while I’d been dealing with the garbage situation. She’d even put on makeup and her dangly earrings. Beli looked ready to go on a polar expedition.
Were they really going to leave me alone?
“A-non-y-mous,” Julieta repeated. “It’s more fun to do nice things for people when they will never know who the giver was. The act of service is its own reward.”
“You have a lonely person right here. I’m sick,” I said, pointing at my throat.
“Just because we’re thinking of other people doesn’t mean we don’t love you, Nati. Love isn’t a pie that runs out when you divide it. You’ll survive for an hour on your own.”
I groaned, and Julieta sighed like I was the worst pain in the world. Looking at Mami, she said, “See? I told you she wouldn’t get it. She’s like a walking dark cloud.”
“We were perfectly fine before you barged in,” I said, and crossed my arms.
Mami and Beli exchanged one of their wordless looks, which meant they’d talked about this—me and my attitude—already.
Juli continued, “Anyway, I’m ready to go. If you want to come, I’d love to have you along. If not, I’ll go be kind on my own.”
Mami and Beli jumped into action.
“I’m ready!” Mami said, putting on her boots.
“Wait for me!” said Beli, tying one of Papi’s Real Salt Lake blue-and-red soccer scarves around her neck. It clashed with her green jacket, but fashion always took a step behind warmth for her.
The three of them stared at me, three drops of water. They had the same dark curly hair, shiny brown eyes, and rich bronze skin that no self-tanner lotion could replicate, no matter how I tried. I looked like Papi, with boring straight hair and paler skin, which turned greenish in the cold winter for the lack of sunshine.
“Are you coming?” Mami asked, and it sounded like she really meant it.
There was a heartbeat of a pause when my tongue got ready to say yes, but then Julieta rolled her eyes.
“No,” I said, “I don’t feel like spreading … randomness.”
“Kindness,” Julieta s
aid.
Mami shrugged, but instead of insisting that I come along, she started lacing her boots.
Julieta was already heading out to the carport. “Come with me, Beli,” she said, grabbing all her bags with one hand and holding Beli’s hand with the other. “I have a blanket waiting for you in the car so you’ll be comfy.”
“Ay, mi niña, always so thoughtful!” She took Juli’s arm and then turned to look at me as the cup of cocoa got cold in my hands. “Put some more Vicks VapoRub on your chest, Nati. I promise, one more dose and the froggy throat will be a thing of the past.”
Before I replied that Vicks didn’t work against older-sister sassiness, Mami came up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I knew it was a trick to make sure I didn’t have a fever.
“Lock up and call me if you need anything,” she whispered, as if these were secret rules and not what she repeated every day before going out.
Soon, I heard the rumble of the car going away. I finished drinking the cocoa to wash the bitterness off my tongue, and went back to Reuben’s messages on the computer. He was offline. His last message had been one of his silly jokes.
I don’t think a cat could eat all those chickens unless it was a meowtain lion in disguise.
I only laughed because he wasn’t around to see me.
A few minutes later, when I hadn’t replied, he’d said, Get it?
I laughed even more and dialed his number on the house phone.
On the third ring, a horrible howling sound made me freeze, as if I were one of the icicles hanging from the gutters. I perked up to listen. It sounded like the crying of a demon baby, and something else, hissing and growling back.
The noise came from the shed. I ran to the window to see what was happening, but it was darker now that the snow had started falling. Under the dim glow of the neighbors’ light, I could just make out a raccoon standing in front of the shed door. I had left it open after all! If that raccoon ransacked Mami’s things, I’d be grounded until the end of the world. But why wasn’t it going in?
Then I saw the small cat blocking the raccoon’s path, arching its back as if it were trying to make itself look bigger and more menacing.
“Hello! Hello,” Reuben’s voice blared from the phone.
Random Acts of Kittens Page 1
