until she says, “Chubby, aren’t you?” and

pinches the fat on my left arm.

“Ouch!” I say, jerking back.

I bolt up to get off

at the next stop.

As others get off the bus

and some try to get on,

I become a pinball,

bounced and sent flying

into someone,

then someone else,

over and over.

Finally, the crowd parts,

and I’m off the awful bus.

I take a deep breath,

thinking I’ve finally caught a break.

Then I smell it,

that earthy scent of

the first raindrops of a storm.

I can’t run fast enough to escape, and

I don’t know where to go anyway.

So I close my eyes and

let the rain wash over me.

Until lightning crackles.

“Hurry!” An arm taps my shoulder.

“This way!”

It’s Catalina.

My friend.

TEXAS TWISTER

“I thought I’d have to swim home.”

I wipe my face as if it’s just wet from rain,

not tears, after we climb into Javier’s car,

full of Catalina’s sisters.

“Good thing Catalina spotted you.

It’s a wicked storm.

I’m going to pull over.

I can barely see.”

Javier parks at a convenience store.

“There’s a song for every occasion,”

Catalina says, and blares

“En la tormenta” by Días Divertidos

from her phone.

The five of us bebop to the beat,

rocking the car—

until we hear the tornado siren.

“Let’s make a run for the store!” Javier shouts,

and we dash through the rain.

Inside, we hear the news.

A tornado hit the next town—

and it’s spinning straight toward us.

BUSTED

I’m not a Goody Two-shoes

or a tattletale by choice.

It’s just that I can never get away with

breaking any kind of rule.

I always get caught.

Dad texts,

Where are you and Liam?

Are you okay?

It’s terrible out!

I’m busted.

I text back,

Liam went to mall,

paid me to take a DART bus.

I got off at wrong stop.

I don’t lie.

Safe now with Catalina.

Taking shelter at a store.

Explain more later.

YES, YOU WILL!

All caps.

Crap.

The tornado turns into

a funnel cloud and fades away.

When we get the all clear,

I quickly stock up on snacks

for my secret stash.

I’m going to need them.

I may never see the light of day again.

FIX MOM’S THINKING

If only you could exchange siblings

like you can horrible gifts.

I’d trade Liam for Javier in a heartbeat.

When I thank him for the ride home,

he smiles and says, “No problem, kiddo.

Glad you didn’t have to swim home after all.”

“Wanna do homework together?”

Catalina asks.

“I wish! But I can’t today.

Doctor’s appointment.”

Catalina tucks her head into her shirt,

like a turtle into its shell—

a makeshift mask from germs.

“You sick?”

“Not that kind of doctor.

A therapist.”

It slips out.