Will the Real Raisin Rodriguez Please Stand Up? by Judy Goldschmidt Page A

answered, pausing in the hopes that someone would explain to me who she was. But no one did. I felt like I do when Lola asks me to play house with her. She always changes her mind about whether I’m the daddy or the baby, so I never know what lines to say. And then she gets angry if I say the wrong ones. (The only thing that’s a definite is that I’m not the mommy because Lola always gets to be her no matter what.)
    â€œBut could you maybe tell me who she is?” I finally asked.
    â€œOh. My. God, Rae Rae, you’re even funnier in person!” Vivvy said, laughing so hard I could see her uvula.
    I was beyond confused. For one thing, I didn’t know what was funny about what I said. For another, what did she mean by “even funnier in person” (as opposed to how else? Funnier than from Television City in Hollywood? Funnier than I would be live, via satellite?). And for a third, I still had no idea who she was.
    â€œBut I’m not kidding,” I said.
    Now it was Vivvy who looked confused. She turned toward Pia and Claudia. “Didn’t you guys tell her?”
    â€œActually, we were saving it as a surprise. Remember, Raise? Well, here she is. Ta-da! Presenting: Vivvy. She just started Berkeley Middle School this year, and she’s really great. The two of you are so alike. You even look alike. I’m telling you, you’re going to love each other,” Pia said.
    â€œMy surprise? Oh, great!” I said, trying to be polite.
    Suddenly I felt dizzy. Like I could black out. Pia and Claudia and I are a threesome! We don’t need anyone else. Unless . . . I’m not enough for them. (Plus if Vivvy was my surprise, did that mean I wasn’t getting something smart, splashy, sassy, or sexy?)
    I wanted Vivvy to go away. Not only because I wanted Pia and Claudia all to myself, but also because I needed privacy so I could ask them what the heck they were thinking inviting this complete stranger to hang out with us.
    My first thought was to call Vivvy and pretend to be her mother telling her to come right home. And I could have totally pulled it off. If only I knew her cell phone number, how to throw my voice, and how to dial a phone without using my hands.
    Having a cell phone of my own would have been a big help too.
    But since I didn’t have the above-mentioned tools, I had no choice but to try and be nice. So I did. Try. But before I could think of how to go about it, Vivvy started in with another question.
    â€œSo, Raise, how’s CJ?” she asked.
    â€œWait, what’d you say?” I asked her, sounding a little less nice than I had planned. But it bothered me that she seemed to know so much about me when I hardly knew anything about her.
    â€œShe asked you how CJ is,” said Claudia.
    â€œWhy don’t we go inside?” asked Pia, trying to cut through the tension. “Rae, they have Fluffernutter pie today!” That Pia, such a sensitive and insightful person she is. Always knows exactly the right thing to say to make me feel better.
    I hardly recognized the House of Pies when we got inside. Instead of a lot of little tables with mismatched tablecloths, there were now just two very long dining tables that seated about twelve people each.
    And the menu was different too. They used to serve things like macaroni and cheese and hamburgers, and now they just served pie. Not that I ever ate the other things. But I always enjoyed knowing they were there.
    We sat down and the waitress, who had dreadlocks and wore an orange tunic, handed us our menus. Right away we noticed this guy and girl seated at the other table. They looked old enough to be high school seniors or maybe even college age. The girl was very pretty. And the guy was even prettier. But all they did was whisper-yell at each other.
    â€œI can’t tell if those two are a couple or if they just hate each other,” Vivvy said. After which Pia and Claudia started laughing