CHAPTER ONE
“What are you drawing?”
Mia Battelli looked up to see Logan staring down at her sketch. His long brown bangs hid his eyes.
“It’s the traffic circle by the park.” Mia brushed eraser bits off the paper. Her class was studying maps, and everyone was drawing part of the neighborhood around the school. When they were done, they were going to build a miniature version of their neighborhood out of clay, showing the school, the park, their houses, and other important places. Their teacher, Ms. Rivera, called it a diorama.
“Why did you draw a cat on that building?” Logan asked. He jabbed a finger at Mia’s sketch.
Mia didn’t like the way he pointed at her drawing. What was Logan Barrow doing at her desk, anyway? He usually sat on the other side of the room. “That’s Wags and Whiskers,” Mia said. “The cat is there to show it’s the veterinary office.”
“Ms. Rivera said we’re only supposed to include important places.” Logan twirled his pencil between his thumb and two fingers.
“Wags and Whiskers
is
important,” Mia said. “We take all our foster cats there.” The Battelli family had fostered two cats—actually they were both kittens—so far. Mia and Michael and their parents had taken care of the kittens until they found forever homes for them. Mia had told her class all about it at meeting time.
“Well, it’s okay for your sketch. But Ms. Rivera has to approve it for the diorama.” He twirled his pencil again.
Mia scowled. “You’re right. It’s up to Ms. Rivera,” she said. Mia happened to know that Ms. Rivera had a cat
and
a dog. Their teacherwould definitely agree that the vet’s office was important enough to be on their map.
Why was Logan bugging her? He hardly ever talked to her, probably because they had nothing in common. Everybody knew that Mia loved cats. Logan, on the other hand, loved sharks. He wore his shark T-shirt nearly every day, and he had already done about three oral reports on sharks that year. He spouted shark facts the way other boys spouted baseball statistics. Mia was not interested in sharks—or Logan.
Logan shrugged. He started to turn away, then stopped. “I know a cat you could foster,” he said.
Mia blinked. “You do?”
“Yeah.” Logan looked right at Mia. “Our neighbors are moving, and they can’t take their cat with them. She’s really fancy. All poofy and white.”
Now Logan had Mia’s full attention. “Is she a Persian?” she asked. She pictured an elegant cat with long white hair, bright round eyes, and a flat, wide face.
“Yeah, I think so,” Logan said. “Do you want her?”
Did Mia want to foster a Persian? She always wanted to foster new kitties, and her family had never fostered a purebred cat before. It sounded too good to be true. She squinted at Logan. “Why don’t you take her?”
“We can’t,” Logan answered. “My dad’s allergic to cats. And dogs. And horses. Just about everything.”
“Logan, Mia?” Ms. Rivera called from her desk. “Is there something you want to share with the class?”
Logan stood up straight. “Just going to sharpen my pencil,” he said.
“The sharpener is up here, not at Mia’s desk,” Ms. Rivera reminded him.
Over at the next table, Nicole Strauss nudged Merry Winters, and they started to whisper and giggle. Mia rolled her eyes. Why did certainpeople have to make a big deal about it whenever a boy talked to a girl?
“Oh, yeah,” Logan said. He headed toward the front of the room. Nicole and Merry giggled some more, until Ms. Rivera shot them a look.
Mia felt her cheeks burn. She bent her head and concentrated on her drawing. She wanted to ask Logan more about the Persian. What was her name? How old was she? When could they pick her up? But Mia knew she had to talk to her parents first. Fostering a cat was always a family decision—a big one.
When the last bell rang, Mia rushed to her cubby and grabbed her backpack. She glanced around for Logan. He
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