Sierra was staring at the page in wonder. “You wrote a poem about me… and Tamiko?”

I shrugged. “You know how I’ve been feeling lately. Sometimes writing poetry helps.”

“Ooh, now we get to help you with your poem, just like you helped us with our lyrics!” said Tessa with a smile.

“Hmm, what could be a good word describing Sierra here?” said Kasey.

“Kind?” suggested Reagan.

“Friendly?” suggested Tessa.

“Outgoing?” said Kasey.

I smiled at Sierra. “Generous. That’s the word. She’s fiery gold, generous, and wild. Done!”

“Love it!” said Kasey as Reagan high-fived me.

Sierra walked across the garage and gave me a huge hug. “Love ya, Alley Cat.” Then she whispered into my ear. “And look, just like that… you have three new friends. Just by being you.”

“Thanks, Sierra. Love you, too.” We did a tight squeeze, and then I hugged all the Wildflowers and headed out. I’d had a great time, and I left with a feeling of warmth, calm, and confidence. And for the first time in a long time, I was actually looking forward to my next social outing—my Korean hot chicken dinner with Jeanie and Marina from class.

CHAPTER NINE NEW FRIENDS ARE FUN

Crispy Chicken was new in town, in kind of an up-and-coming neighborhood. My mom dropped me off, and my dad would pick me up, since I was staying at his house that night.

I was the first to arrive. Because it was early, the restaurant wasn’t too busy, and I scored a table. I pulled out my notebook and started taking detailed notes about the decor and atmosphere. The metal-topped tables were low, with small wooden stools that could be moved around anywhere. A sign told people that the seating was first come, first seated and asked diners to please vacate as soon as they’d finished eating, so that other people could sit. The floor of the restaurant was a light wood, as was the ceiling, and it all felt very modern and clean.

Along a counter where you could stand and eat, there were dispensers of different hot sauces, with small pleated cups to carry the sauce to your table. There were white china crocks filled with individually wrapped pairs of chopsticks, and napkin dispensers everywhere. Signs proclaimed that people needed to bus their own tables because YOUR MOM ISN’T HERE TO CLEAN UP AFTER YOU, which I thought was funny. The music was mellow hip-hop, and the people behind the counter were mostly teenagers. They seemed to be having fun together.

I made sure to jot down the entire menu, including drinks (mostly variations on iced tea), so I could refer to it in anything I wrote about the restaurant. I also noted the kinds of people who were there—mostly young people and not too many families.