Catie Conrad: Faith, Friendship and Fashion Disasters

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Catie Conrad: Faith, Friendship and Fashion Disasters Page 4

by Angie Spady


  And the WORST part about the whole thing was THE GERM THOUGHT IT WAS CUTE!

  NOT!!! NO WAY!!! NO HOW!!!

  No wonder Sophie never comes to my house.

  Maybe I can move in with her!

  It was all I could do to even be remotely nice to the Germ tonight. And to make matters worse, it was a S.A.D. night!

  UGH!!!!

  What was with Mom and these weird dinner table rules?

  At least she was fixing one of my favorite meals: spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread. DELISH.

  I’m convinced we’re part Italian because Mom makes the best meatballs of anyone I know. And since I LOVE Italian food, I’m sure part of our family must be from Rome—RIGHT? Maybe that’s where I get my fashion flair? The Italians definitely have as much style as the designers in Paris. Maybe I’ll be on the cover of one of those Italian magazines too!

  When Mom finally called us to dinner, it was just as I’d suspected: STINK BOMB ROSEY had to be my brother’s little shadow around the table. Maybe I’ll eat extra garlic bread and then breathe on the Germ after dinner. That’s the only comeback I have since I don’t have a gross pet that reeks!

  Mom: I hope everyone had a super day and is ready to share something good! I took our pastor’s advice and invited one of our patient’s family to church! They’re new to the neighborhood and going to try to visit this Sunday. I said we’d love to have them sit with us. Right, gang?

  Dad: That’s wonderful, dear! My good news is I just got our plane tickets for the mission trip to Arizona. I thought you and the kids might want to be in charge of the VBS crafts. Catie, didn’t I see you working on a mosaic yesterday? Maybe the Native American kids would enjoy something like that.

  Me: I’d LOVEto help with crafts! Only my mosaic didn’t turn out so well. But Mom’s idea helped out BIG TIME. As for good news today . . . hmmm . . . I guess my good news is I got an A+ on Mr. Finkleman’s cell assignment! That’s all I can think of—UNLESS you’d like to SEE my science project? ISN’T THAT RIGHT, ROSEY?

  The GERM: You are SO mean, Catie! Okay, I’ll admit it. Rosey tried to eat Catie’s project. But it was made out of CANDY and JELL-O, for crying out loud! Even I took a bite! Sorry, Catie, but Rosey is an omnivore, so she’ll try anything! She must have thought that Fruit Roll-Up was a salamander or something.

  Me: Then you need to get that skunk’s eyes checked!

  Dad: Okay, that’s enough you two. Tell your sister you’re sorry, Jeremy Conrad. You need to keep that skunk under control.

  The GERM: Sorry, Catie. . . . (MUMBLING SO LOW THAT I COULD BARELY HEAR HIM.)

  I am STILL soooooo mad at the Germ and Rosey, but I have to forgive them I guess.

  BUT IT’S CERTAINLY NOT GOING TO BE EASY!!!!!

  At least the spaghetti was good. Actually, it was more like DELICIOSO! Just when I was about to forgive the pest for eating my project, I looked over and saw him and the Germ SHARING a spaghetti noodle! YES, that’s what I said—THEY WERE SLURPING ON A SPAGHETTI NOODLE—just like the dogs on that Disney movie!

  GROSS!!!!

  WHO WANTS SKUNK SPIT ON HIS FOOD? MY BROTHER HAS OFFICIALLY LOST IT!

  Thursday, March 25

  I could hardly keep my eyes open on the way to school today. I was so excited to finally have time to work on fashion designs last night that I lost track of time and stayed up tooooo late. If only I liked coffee like my parents!

  Instead, I felt like a TOTAL ZOMBIE.

  I had to snap out of it because today I had ART CLASS! Mom had carefully wrapped my project in plastic—thank goodness. I’d told her about Miranda INTENTIONALLY bumping into it last week.

  Mom: Try to overlook her if at all possible, Catie.

  Easy for her to say.

  When I got to class, Mrs. Gibson had cleared off the back table so we’d have room to display our projects. Miranda had made her volleyball out of pearl beads (of course!), and Sophie’s project turned out nicer than I’d expected. She’d filled in her cross with all sorts of seashells, and it was beautiful. Josh had done a mosaic of his dog, Jasper, and used black licorice pieces for the fur.

  If only Josh knew how much I loved dogs, we’d be the perfect match for sure. Hey, I even like black licorice!

  I breathed a sigh of relief when Mrs. Gibson said I’d done a great job. WHEW! She really liked the bobbin idea and said it should help my grade.

  THIS WAS THE BEST DAY EVER!!!!!!

  THAT IS, UNTIL P.E.

  Have I ever written in this diary how much I hate P.E. class? Well, I DO! I’d rather babysit Rosey than go to P.E.

  YES, IT’S THAT BAD!!!

  It was especially a BUMMER today, but let me explain. . . .

  Coach Calloway (who’s always in some kind of neon glow-in-the-dark jogging suit) had the brilliant idea to talk about “Healthy Eating Habits for the twenty-first Century.”

  Eeh.

  Not only were our school cafeteria meals the farthest thing from tasty (and I mean MILES and MILES from tasty!), but our coach also had a tableful of food that he ORDERED us to sample. He even said he’d dock our grade if we refused to try it.

  Talk about torture!

  So here are the things he set out on the table: broccoli, tomatoes, pears, blueberries, and cheese. GROSS. GROSS. DOUBLE GROSS.

  “Growing boys and girls like you need fruits and vegetables!” he said. “You need to eat at least four to six servings per day. They’re full of vitamins and are DELISH!”

  The girls in our class stood around the table and stared. I even noticed that Miranda and Emily didn’t look too happy about it.

  The boys, on the other hand, couldn’t have cared less. They started devouring everything. I’ve never seen Josh Henderson eat like that! Not only is he handsome and smart, but he even EATS healthy! UNBELIEVABLE!

  Sophie didn’t mind trying all that stuff either. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since she cooks all the time. With that smile on her face, you would have thought she was eating cotton candy.

  NOT ME! Why broccoli even exists on earth, I have no clue.

  Why would anyone want to eat raw trees?

  And blueberries? Sorry, but the texture is just too weird. They taste like squashed bugs. I couldn’t stand it and had to spit them out onto a napkin. And the worst of all was the tomato. GROOOOSSSS . . . The ONLY way I can eat them is if they’re drowned in ranch dressing, and I didn’t see a bottle of it anywhere.

  “The flesh of a tomato is filled with nutrients!” said Coach. “And this one is extra juicy!”

  Flesh of a tomato? Did he have to use those words? I felt like a cannibal eating a piece of human flesh. Ewww . . .

  Miranda and Emily weren’t trying much of the stuff either. “I’m not a fan of pears,” I overheard Miranda say to Emily. “It tastes like I’m eating wet sand. That’s just disgusting.”

  I couldn’t believe I agreed with Miranda on something. Of course, I didn’t tell her that.

  BUT then Coach said something that REALLY caused me to pay attention—in a GOOD way: “Try some of the fruit and cheese together. The white cheese is called brie. Just think, kids all over the world love this treat . . . especially the French.”

  WHAT? The only cheese I like is grilled. But if girls in the FASHION CAPITAL OF THE WORLD like this stuff, COUNT ME IN!

  I could only imagine sitting on a balcony in Paris, sketching a fabulous outfit, and nibbling on fruit and cheese.

  If only that was all I had to sample. I couldn’t possibly afford to get a bad grade in P.E. Another bad grade would doom me for all eternity.

  I had no choice but to try all of the other junk too.

  I held my nose on the broccoli but got it down somehow. Whoever said that holding your nose keeps you from tasting anything was INSANE.

  If I had to eat broccoli to stay alive, I would have bee
n dead by now.

  The rest of my day went WAAAAAY DOWNHILL from there. When the bell finally rang, everyone hurried on to art class. I could hardly wait to get a drink of water and wash that tree taste out of my mouth.

  BUT THEN IT HAPPENED: Josh was walking right BEHIND me in the hallway! Sophie gave me “the look,” like I should at least turn around and say hi to him.

  But. I. FROzE. . . . My BRAIN WENT TOTALLY NUMB.

  OH, AND THAT’S JUST THE HALF OF IT. While I was still in zombie mode, Josh suddenly SPOKE TO ME! “Hey, Catie,” he said, “that was one weird P.E. class today, huh?”

  I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. I JUST STOOD THERE AND STARED.

  Luckily, Sophie saved the day: “Uh, yeah, Josh, totally weird!” she said. “Catie and I were just talking about that. Right, Catie? RIGHT, CATIE?”

  “Oh, uh, right! You can say that again, Josh!” I said, smiling at him from ear to ear. I was finally learning how to put a sentence together without sounding like a total idiot. I even remembered to smile. Shocking.

  THEN Josh suddenly gave me the strangest look ever. He zoomed around me as fast as he could and joined up with Tyler.

  HUH? What was with him???

  “What did I say?” I asked, turning to Sophie. “All I did was agree with him that P.E. was weird. I can’t do anything right! What is wrong with me?”

  But suddenly Sophie looked at me with an even stranger look. WHAT WAS WITH EVERYONE?

  “Uh, Catie, I think I need to show you something,” Sophie said, quickly pulling me into the bathroom.

  Now I was REALLY starting to get nervous. I was almost positive I’d put on deodorant this morning. Or maybe I had bad breath? I made a mental note to pack some breath mints in my backpack tomorrow.

  Sophie turned me around and stuck my face toward the mirror.

  OH. MY. GOSH.

  I had a GINORMOUS piece of broccoli wedged between my front teeth!!!! IT WAS HORRIBLE!!!!!!!!!

  No wonder Josh bolted past me in two seconds. Why on EARTH would he want to talk to a girl with a green shrub stuck between her teeth?

  I quickly dug the hunk of green out of my teeth. If only I could stay in the bathroom for the rest of the day . . . or better yet, FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!

  But just as I turned the corner on my way to my next class, BOOM, I ran RIGHT INTO MRS. GIBSON, knocking the container of paintbrushes out of her hand.

  I AM SUCH A KLUTZ!

  Mrs. Gibson could tell I was TOTALLY upset.

  Besides my parents and Sophie, Mrs. Gibson knows me better than anyone. “Are you okay today, Catie?” she asked. “You know if you ever need to talk to someone, you can talk to me.”

  I wanted to reach over and give Mrs. Gibson the biggest hug ever.

  But I didn’t.

  It was just my luck that someone in the hall would see me and call me a big baby.

  A baby with broccoli breath.

  Friday, March 26

  I am SO READY for this week to be OVER. My chance of going to the dance is zILCH!!!!!!!

  Luckily, there was zero drama at school today. Well, ALMOST zero drama . . .

  This time it was all because of my dumb backpack, which happens to weigh as much as a small car. Maybe I should design a backpack that doesn’t cause my spine to feel like it’s going to snap!

  Besides having six teachers and TONS of homework, being in middle school means having a locker on the other side of the planet. I have no choice but to cram every book I’ll need for the ENTIRE day into my backpack. Perhaps Mom was right: carrying around a heavy backpack was going to turn me into a hunchback—a definite no-go for a fashion designer.

  Today I’d also packed a mirror, toothbrush, toothpaste, breath mints, and dental floss—just in case there was another dental disaster. I quickly rushed into the bathroom to double check my teeth.

  That’s when I came face-to-face with MIRANDA and EMILY. I couldn’t risk Miranda seeing me check my teeth for grossness. THANK GOODNESS she was too busy spraying her hair and reapplying her ten pounds of makeup. Sometimes Miranda lays it on a little thick. Scratch that—she does that ALL the time!

  Mom and Dad only allow me to wear lip gloss and powder, but of course I ask to wear more. After all, makeup and fashions go hand in hand! But this morning, after watching Miranda primp, I decided to get out my watermelon-flavored lip gloss and make sure my hair didn’t look weird.

  “Hey Catie,” said Emily. “I like that flavor of lip gloss too. Mom bought me some just like that last week.”

  Miranda didn’t say a single thing. NATURALLY.

  Just as I was about to say hi to Emily, I heaved my ginormous backpack onto the sink counter. In two seconds, the zipper broke, SPILLING EVERTHING out of my backpack.

  And of course, Miranda had to be the one to bend over and pick up my toothbrush, dental floss, and breath mints.

  OF COURSE SHE DID.

  But to my surprise, she just handed them back to me without saying anything rude.

  WEIRD. What was wrong with her? Maybe Miranda has one of those split personalities? She probably talked about me behind my back as soon as I left.

  BUT AT LEAST IT’S FRIDAY! YES!! YES!!! YES!!!!

  I’m determined to quit thinking about the dance—AND Miranda—AND Josh!

  Well, I’m going to TRY at least. . . .

  Tonight was so cool for a zILLION reasons:

  1.Dad took us to our favorite Italian restaurant for dinner—Deliciozo Italiano. He even said Sophie could come along too.

  2.The Germ had to leave Rosey at home because we were eating at a nice restaurant. HAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!

  3.Sophie got to sleep over. First we talked about the dance. Sophie says she’s going, and she wants me to go too. I’ll have to think about that since I’m still HOPING that Josh asks me. Then we created some new spa recipes (her favorite thing to do) and designed amazing outfits (my favorite thing to do) until 12 AM! IT WAS AWESOME!

  I also gave Sophie a diary of her own since she’d mentioned mine was kinda cool. She even said she’s going to keep a Prayer List, just like I do.

  I asked Sophie to write down our family’s name ASAP. Our mission trip was coming up, and we had no clue what working at an Indian rez would be like. We needed all the prayer we could get!

  Who knows, maybe the Germ and I might get to hang out with Apache kids our own age. That could be VERY COOL.

  OR

  That could be VERY STRANGE . . .

  I wonder if Native American girls wear the same fashions as Sophie and I?

  I wonder if they keep weird diaries?

  I wonder if any of them like art as much as I do?

  Maybe I’ll look that stuff up later on the Internet . . .

  G’ NIGHT!!!!

  SATURDAY, March 27

  FINALLY . . . THE WEEKEND!!!!

  WOOT! WOOT! WOOT!

  I have NO homework, NOTHING to do, and I plan on staying in my p.j.’s THE ENTIRE DAY! YES!

  I’ve got everything planned: turn on my favorite music, lounge on my bed, and draw fashions in my sketchbook as long as I want! I might not even brush my hair—or my teeth.

  Correction: I am SUPPOSED to love Saturdays. . . .

  Is there such a thing as a CREEP-A-zOID?

  If it’s in the dictionary, then I’m sure there’s a picture of my eight-year-old brother right beside it.

  CREEP-A-ZOID:

  1. One who reeks of wet skunk or moldy garbage.

  2. Someone who eats EVERY SINGLE potato chip in the bag and then leaves the bag in the cabinet to psych me out.

  3. Someone who hogs the computer just so he can watch videos about weird animals like the two-toed sloth or star-nosed mole. (WHO CARES!)

  4. Anyone named JEREMY “The GERM” CONRAD.

  This Satur
day morning (which, again, was SUPPOSED to be a relaxing day), the Germ would NOT LEAVE ME ALONE.

  “If you put even a single TOENAIL into my room, you are DEAD MEAT!” I warned him. “Not only do you smell like a garbage can, but there is NO WAY you’re getting within breathing distance of my drawings.”

  The Germ quietly slid one foot inside my room, staring straight at me. He even wiggled his big TOE, acting like a TOTAL BRAT!

  As long as the Germ’s black and white creature still roams the Earth, my room is totally OFF LIMITS! Why my brother threw a total tantrum over wanting a pet skunk, I have NO CLUE. I personally think he’d been eating school glue when he asked Dad for one, but I can’t prove it.

  “But DAAAADDDD,” he whined like a big baby, “vets can take the smelly gland out so it won’t stink. I saw them do it on Animal Planet! I can walk him on a leash, and he can even ride in the car with us on the way to school. Pleeeeeease!”

  Blah, blah, blah . . .

  I still can’t believe Dad fell for it! Rosey (who would name a skunk Rosey?) even has her own bed. He and the Germ probably have matching pajamas for all I know.

  And riding to school is a TOTAL NIGHTMARE. If only Mom’s van had tinted windows. I’m forced to sit in the back and hide while the Germ looks like a total freak riding in the front and holding that dumb skunk in his lap. He even keeps the windows rolled down so that Rosey can hang her head out like a dog.

  The Germ says skunks like to feel the wind in their fur, but I don’t buy it for a second. I think he’s afraid that there’s some part of that STINK gland left and Rosey might do a major backfire on him!

  To make my Saturday even worse, I got grounded because my room was “a total disaster area”—or so Mom said. She was right, I guess. I couldn’t find my favorite earrings or my sketchbook—which I TOTALLY need in order to work on my art project.

 

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