Read Online Where I Belong by Gwendolyn Heasley - Free Book Online

and my new wardrobe distracted everyone from Carlton’s insane comments. But now, with my credit cards frozen, I can’t even online-shop my way out of this.
    Well, there’s always greasy brisket, and like everything else from Grandma’s kitchen, it’s shockingly delicious. I hope I packed my sweats because I might need an elastic waistband soon.

Chapter 5
    If That Mockingbird Doesn’t Win, Broken Spoke’s Going to Have a Breakdown
    S OMEHOW , I MAKE IT TO F RIDAY , the football season opener. The chocolate-chip, apple, granola, and blueberry pancakes, the casseroles, the pound cake, the rhubarb pie, and the snickerdoodles—they all greatly helped me survive. I am going to need to cut this eating orgy out. Between eating at Grandma Sandy’s Road-to-Diabetes kitchen and not having a gym or Sweetbread to ride, I am so not going to fit into my clothes by Thanksgiving. And it’s not exactly like I can go shopping for new clothes because a) it’s A.R., After the Recession, and b) where would I go?
    Oprah is definitely onto something with that emotional-eating concept. When Oprah asks, “What are you truly hungry for?” my answer is: “I am starving for New York, for Barneys, for Bleecker boutiques, for dinners at Il Posto with friends, for sneaking into clubs, for getting ready for Kent, for falling in love with Smith, and for living the life I am supposed to be living. I am so hungry, Oprah.” Perhaps I could get on her show as a guest: She could be my sponsor, right? I’ve seen her give away free cars. So why not restore people’s lives to their rightful place?
    And to make life worse, it’s a Friday without a social itinerary except for a Saturday driving date with Grandpa in the a.m.
    After Spanish class Kitsy approaches me.
    “Hola, Corrinne,” Kitsy says, and moves from one foot to the other, “ ¿Como estás? Wait, I am talking in español after class? That’s really lame. So anyways, what are you doing this weekend?”
    I shrug, even though I know the answer: driving Billie Jean the Second and eating leftover brisket.
    “Are you going to the game?” she asks.
    I shake my head.
    “To tell you a secret,” she says, lowering her voice, “I get sick of football too, but I’m a Mockingbirdette, so I’m required to go. I’m sure you guessed that with me wearing the uniform and all.”

    I don’t respond, but Kitsy keeps going.
    “Anyways, the good part of game night is there’s always a party afterward. If you want to go, find me.”
    For some inexplicable reason, I nod. Nodding, I believe even in Texas, is the universal sign for yes. I think the heat is going to my brain.
    “Great,” Kitsy says, and saunters away in her gray Mockingbirdette cheerleading uniform, holding her pom-poms in one hand and her books in the other. Broken Spoke Question of the Day: Why does Kitsy bring her pom-poms to class? Best guess: so she can cheer effectively if there was ever an emergency situation.
    Señor Luis must be forcing Kitsy to take me on as some charity project. Or maybe this is one of those teen movies where the kids lure the new student into some trap. Because on top of me and Kitsy having nothing in common, I gather that Kitsy’s actually popular at Hairspray and Cowboy Boot High. Unlike me, she’s not exactly lacking for friends, which makes her attention all the more confusing. Maybe she’s looking for a free place to stay if she ever gets to Manhattan. But if our apartment sells, it looks like even I will be staying at a hotel.
     
    Despite Grandma’s protests against the unfair allocations of time and money on the football team, she still dons a steel-gray Mockingbird sweatshirt and hops intoBillie Jean the Second with Tripp, Grandpa, and me for the kickoff game.
    “Of course I am going, Corrinne,” Grandma says. “Season opener is like prom for the whole town. And everyone’s been on me to make my Mockingbird cupcakes since last season ended.”
    And with good reason. Grandma’s