After the first verse, a second-story window flies open, and Oscar’s middle brother, Jorge, shouts, “Awww, come on! I’m on the phone here!”

“Nope!” I shout back.

“What do I have to do to make you stop?”

The first song ends and the first few notes of Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family” begins to play. “Send Oscar down and the singing stops!”

My intention was for Oscar to be so moved by my willingness to embarrass myself in front of his whole block that he would just be forced to forgive me, but if it takes holding his whole family hostage with my horrific vocals, then I’m fine with that too.

“We are family!” I shout-sing into the microphone so loudly that my speakers screech. “Get up everybody and sing!”

The song is nearly over by the time the front door swings open and Oscar steps through the dark doorway.

“All right, all right,” he says. “You can turn it off now. My brothers are threatening to make eighth grade a living hell if you don’t stop.”

I reach down and twist the power dial off. “I brought you the paper,” I say.

He plops down beside me. “If you want me to read something in there, you’re just gonna have to read it to me yourself.”

Suddenly my mouth is dry and my nerves are frazzled. “Sure. Right.” I open the paper to the middle and shake it out before clearing my throat. “‘Dear Reader, I’m proud to announce the latest addition to my column, Sweet Pea’s Corner. Sweet Pea is a thirteen-year-old resident of Valentine, Texas, who will be tackling one letter every time this column runs. I think you’ll find her insight to be a welcome addition. And like I’ve always said, wisdom has no age. And with that, I’ll let Sweet Pea introduce herself. Sincerely, Miss Flora Mae.’”

Oscar stands up. “What do you want me to say, Sweet Pea? Good for you? You got your own section in the paper. Big whoop!”

“Will you just wait?” I beg him. “Give me a minute.”

He sits back down. “Well, get on with it.”

I exhale deeply and then let it all out. “‘Dear Readers, Sweet Pea here. First things first: I don’t know everything. There have been plenty of times when I thought I did, and those are usually when I’ve made my biggest mistakes. Mistakes like keeping secrets from the people I love the most and pushing aside the ones who have always been there even when I wasn’t worth being there for. I always thought Miss Flora Mae had all the answers, but one thing I’ve learned from her is that we’re all just doing the best we can with the information we have. Sometimes seeing something from a distance or from a different point of view is all it takes to figure out what you should have seen all along. Like my mom says: we all have our blind spots.

“‘My blind spot? It made me take my best friend for granted. It had me thinking he’d be there for me no matter what, even when I treated him like cow dung. So today, before I have any letters to answer, I’d like to take this chance to say: Oscar, with the way I’ve been acting, I’m not worthy of a friend like you, but I’m going to do my best to be the kind of friend who deserves you. I know things are changing between us with lots of new stuff ahead, but the thing I’ve figured out lately is that change doesn’t have to be bad. Change can be an adventure even if it includes eighth grade and JV wrestling. Ready for the Adventure, Sweet Pea.’”