Forget Me Not by Coleen Paratore Page A

sneakers, taffy teeth—Welcome to Cape Cod.
    I laugh and put the notebook aside. Nana’s going to love these. Nana would be so happy for me if I could adopt Salty. Why does Stella have to be so mean?
    I look at my short stack of skinny-punch books, scanning the titles. Which to choose next? The Hundred Dresses by Eleanor Estes, The Whipping Boy by Sid Fleischman. My eyes land on Love that Dog by Sharon Creech. I know that author. She won the Newbery Medal for Walk Two Moons. I open Dog and start reading.
    When I get to the line about the “yellow dog,” I smile.
    I’m going to have a yellow dog, too.
    Soon, I just know I will.

CHAPTER 14
Stupid Baseball
The only way to have a friend is to be one.
    —Ralph Waldo Emerson
    Mariel comes at six for dinner. With her deep brown eyes, glistening skin, and long black ringlety hair, she’s stunning in a simple jean skirt and tank top. She has on the beach-glass necklace, with the blue-green-white-brown, blue-green-white-brown pattern she was wearing the day I discovered that she and Joseph were friends. We all ran into one another outside of Nana’s store. It was awkward. I was jealous when she got the role of Emily in Our Town and JFK got the male lead and they kissed in the play, but JFK insisted that he and Mare were just friends.
    “Am I too early?” Mare says.
    “No, you’re right on time. Come on in. My mom’s out shopping and my dad’s running the kitchen tonight, so it’ll just be us.”
    I worked out the menu with Sam ahead of time. Barbecued chicken, potato salad, sliced tomatoes, and green beans.
    “Hello, Mariel,” Sam says, draining a pot at the sink and then moving back to the sizzling pan on the burner. “Welcome. How’s your summer going?”
    “Great, Mr. Gracemore, thanks.”
    “Can we expect to see you in any more productions this summer?” Sam asks.
    “I want to audition for Maid Marian in Robin Hood ,” Mare says, “but the Wellfleet playhouse is out of biking distance, so we’ll see.”
    That must be the audition she was talking to JFK about at the baseball field. I sure hope he’s not auditioning. Aren’t Robin Hood and Maid Marian in love? I’m certain there would be kissing.
    Something steams up on the stove and Sam turns. “I’m sorry…back to work. Why don’t you girls fill your plates and sit out at the picnic table by the pond? It’s a perfect evening for alfresco dining. And I’ve got the wickets set up for croquet.”
    “That sounds nice,” Mare says. “Thanks for having me over, Mr. Gracemore.”
    We fill our plates and head outside. I tell Mare to duck when we pass by the dining room window. “Ifthe Red Hats spot us, they’ll want to talk all night, or worse yet, join us.”
    Mare laughs. “I like them. I plan on being a Red Hat when I’m older. Red hat, red shoes, red everything. I want to live life big and have some fun. Don’t you, Willa?”
    “Absolutely.”
    We talk about the plover thing. We talk about books. Mare says she’s reading Esperanza Rising by Pam Muñoz Ryan, and highly recommends it. I ask her how long it is. I tell her I’ll try it when I’m off my diet. Mare laughs when I tell her about the skinny-punch books. She says she wants to try that, too.
    “I’ll give you my Willa’s Pix list,” I say.
    “Where did you get that idea from?” she asks.
    I tell her how I went to Saratoga, New York, with Tina and her family on a summer vacation and we visited the famous racetrack there. Local kids do a daily “Kid’s Pix” listing their favorite horses in each of the races for that day. That seems like so long ago now. Something tells me that if Tina had to pick a friend to go with her this summer, she would pick Ruby.
    I look at Mare. She’s looking out at the pond, enjoying her food, enjoying being here. Such a different place from the ugly, cramped motel she lives in.
    I’m glad Mare’s here. I like her, a lot. I can tell we’re going to be good friends, but right now I’m hoping she