Choke by Diana Lopez

managed to saddle a birthday party hat on Cloudy.
    At first I had fun, but after dealing with the hissing and wriggling and clawing, dressing up cats was just as lame as dressing up dolls. That was the weird thing about Elena. In some ways, her personality was as kid-like as her body. For example, she still wanted to trick-or-treat on Halloween. Shestill loved coloring books. And she still rode her bike along the sidewalk, a bike with tassels on the handlebars. Part of me loved hanging out with Elena, but another part of me felt embarrassed. I would never tell her, but sometimes I just wanted her to act like a normal eighth grader.
    After dressing up the cats, we spent the rest of the night redecorating my room because it seriously needed to grow up, too. “The Top Five Most Embarrassing Details About My Room,” said page 29 of my TOP FIVE notebook. “Five, the ruffled, pink comforter. Four, the plastic Playskool oven. Three, the row of five-by-seven school portraits hanging above my bed. Two, a dozen teddy bears in my old bassinet, all with chewed-off ears. And the number one most embarrassing detail of my room: a tangle of permanent marker squiggles I drew on the wall when I was six.”
    Yup, my room seriously needed an update. The only thing I liked about it was a corkboard where I tacked mementos like ticket stubs from the Stars on Ice show; the calavera , or skull, card from my Mexican bingo set; and a filmstrip of pictures Elena and I had taken at the mall. We smiled in one picture, crossed our eyes in another, stuck out our tongues in a third, and tried, but failed, to look serious in the fourth. Next to them, I wrote “BFF.”
    â€œLet’s get busy,” I said.
    Elena and I took down my goofy school pictures and covered the walls, including the embarrassing squiggle marks, with the heartthrob posters from my teen magazines. We got rid of the frilly bedspread and dressed up the plain purple sheets with decorative pillows. We carried the plastic stove to the garage, so I could make some money at our next garage sale.
    â€œWhat about this bassinet?” Elena asked.
    I looked at all the teddy bears snuggled within it. “I’m going to keep it after all. Too much sentimental value.”
    After working on my room, we talked late into the night — mostly about Ronnie, how cute he was.
    â€œWho do you like?” I asked.
    She listed a bunch of ice-skaters. “They’re supercute in those tight outfits they wear. Plus, they have talent.”
    â€œBut they aren’t real people. You don’t know them.”
    â€œOf course they’re real. I’ve got autographs, remember? I know them by the way they interpret the music, by the way they dance.”
    I threw a pillow at her. “You are so corny!”
    She just sighed as she told me about her favorite skaters and routines. She went on and on. All I heard was Elena’s voice and Raindrop’s purrs. At some point, nothing made sense anymore. My consciousness hit a wall and I conked out.
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    The next morning, I had a little trouble waking up.
    â€œGirls!” Mom called. “We’re leaving in five minutes.”
    She was taking us to Pleasant Hill, the assisted living place where she worked. Nina planned to meet us there so we could go to the mall afterward. Well, so Nina and I could go. Elena had to visit her grandma.
    â€œOkay,” I called back. Then to Elena, I said, “Hurry. Give me Raindrop before my mom peeks in.”
    Raindrop had made a home in the bushes outside my window. We had a little routine now. I fed him outside before and after school. Then, right before bed, I let him in, and he slept on my extra pillow. My window wasn’t high off the ground, and since cats always landed on their feet, I could safely drop Raindrop outside.
    â€œRemember,” I told Elena, “you can’t let my mom know about the cat.”
    â€œOf course,” she said.
    We began to