Against All Odds by Natale Ghent

like a fire alarm, Mr. Peterson swerved to avoid the cat, crashed his cruiser over the curb, and landed in a cursing heap at the side of the road.
    “Hey, wait up!” Boney called, ignoring Mr. Peterson’s misfortune.
    “Of all the neighbourhoods, she had to pick ours,” Itchy complained.
    Squeak trotted behind him, stealing a glimpse as Mr. Peterson righted himself and limped his bike toward his garage. “Maybe she’s just visiting.”
    “Not with our luck,” Itchy muttered.
    “Well, at least she’s not moving onto our street, right?” Boney said.
    Itchy waved the empty sandwich bag. “She’s right on the corner. It doesn’t get much worse than that.”
    “Do you think she’ll go to our school this fall?” Squeak asked.
    “Don’t say school!” Itchy freaked. “It’s still summer vacation. I don’t want to think about school!” He picked up the pace, smashing the wagon up Boney’s drive and over the lawn to the giant oak tree that supported the Odds’ clubhouse. Dropping the handle, he shimmied like a monkey, carrying the empty kitten basket up the rope ladder and into the clubhouse.
    Boney and Squeak stared at each other at the base of the tree.
    “What an odd day,” Squeak said.
    “Very,” Boney agreed.
    Itchy’s red mop popped out of Escape Hatch #1. “Hey! Are you guys coming up or what?”
    Boney and Squeak climbed the ladder. Itchy was already at the table, stacking peanut butter and honey crackers in a neat pile. Henry was scratching at some cornmeal that Itchy had scattered on the floor. Itchy rubbed his hands greedily together. He grabbed a cracker stack and was just about to deposit it in his mouth when a girl’s voice called out from below.
    “Hello!”
    The Odds froze, staring at each other in terror.
    Itchy gagged. “It’s her!”
    “Hello!” the voice called again. And then there was the distinct sound of someone clambering up the ladder. “Hide!” Itchy hissed.
    “Where exactly?” Boney asked. But then he zipped to his easy chair, throwing one leg over the arm, all casual-like.
    Itchy gobbled his stack of crackers, pushing them furtively into his mouth, crumbs flying everywhere. Squeak stood, feet glued to the floor. They waited, holding their breath until a girl’s head appeared through the escape hatch. It was Samantha Moss.
    “Hi!” she said, giving another cheerful wave. She pointed at Henry. “Oh— a rooster! He’s a leghorn, right?”
    Boney and Squeak exchanged surprised looks.
    “Actually, yes,” Squeak answered.
    “Don’t talk to her,” Itchy barked, cracker crumbs spraying from his mouth. He turned to Samantha. “You can’t come in here. This is a boys-only club. No girls allowed! Get it? Even our mascot’s a boy.” He gestured wildly at Henry.
    Squeak cleared his throat. “We believed he was a hen when I first introduced him …”
    “Who cares?” Itchy snarled. “He’s a boy now. Anyone with two eyes in their head can see that!”
    “Oh … I’m sorry,” Samantha apologized. “I didn’t realize. I was interested in adopting a kitten, but I see that I’m … interrupting something. I’ll just … leave then.”
    “Good!” Itchy shouted, as Samantha lowered her head and began climbing back down the ladder. He wiped his hands together, swallowing the last of his crackers with a big gulp.
    Squeak stared at his friend in bewilderment. “Uh … that was kind of rude … don’t you think?”
    “Rude?” Itchy bobbled his red mop. “Have you gone soft in the head? If we start letting girls into our club, there’s no telling what will happen.”
    “Like what?” Boney asked.
    Itchy flapped his hands around. “I don’t know. Bad things!”
    “You could have been nicer about it,” Squeak said.
    “Nicer?!” Itchy’s jaw dropped. “She kicked our butts in the flying competition just moments ago, in case you don’t remember.”
    Squeak stared back at him.
    “She
spied
on us! She tried to steal your invention!” Squeak raised an