Raisin Rodriguez & the Big-Time Smooch

Table of Contents

 

Also by Judy Goldschmidt

The Secret Blog of Raisin Rodriguez

Raisin Rodriguez and the Big-Time Smooch

 
RAZORBILL

 
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Young Readers Group
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Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

 
Copyright 2005 © Alloy Entertainment and Judy Goldschmidt

All rights reserved

 
Produced by Alloy Entertainment
ALLOY
ENTERTAINMENT 151 West 26th Street
New York, NY 10001

eISBN : 978-1-595-14125-5

 
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is available

 

 
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

 
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party web sites or their content.

Big thanks to everyone at Razorbill and Alloy for all their hard work in making this possible, especially Liesa and Lynn.

 
To Keith Summa, for your great eye.

 
And to Kelly and Janine, for the support you've given in so many different ways.

From: [email protected]
Sent: Tuesday, November 16
To: [email protected];
[email protected]
Subject: Urgent!

 
Attention, Raisin Shoppers:

Kindly be advised of my new blog address:
www.GoAwayPlease.com
.

I regret any inconvenience this change may cause, but changing blog addresses every few weeks is a necessary step toward ensuring secrecy and throwing off potential interlopers. And while I admit I'm not really sure what an interloper is, I am very sure I don't want one reading this blog.

In addition to keeping interlopers off the site, this change-of-address policy will also keep Roger Morris off the site. As you may remember, Roger Morris is the boy who discovered my blog at the old address,
www.TwoScoopsofRaisin.com
, and then proceeded to print it out and distribute it to every seventh grader at Franklin Academy. Perhaps if Roger spent more time studying and less time trying to mess me up, he might finally get promoted to eighth grade.

Keep in mind, my first priority is you, the reader. Or more specifically, you, Pia and Claudia. You will always be my best friends, no matter where my mother decides to move or how insistent she is on taking me with her. And I will always keep this blog for the exclusive purpose of keeping you two informed. You have my promise that I will continue delivering excellence in gossip, fashion and beauty tips, and information generally considered too inappropriate to share.

 
Sincerely,
Raisin Rodriguez

Hello Kitties,

There comes a time in everybody's life when they need to reevaluate. For some, it's a birthday. For others, it's seeing an amazing sunset. For me, it was finding Lola showing her underpants to her playdate in the laundry room.

That chubby little tart has a better love life than I do!

I've got to hand it to her, she's pretty crafty. And all this time she had me thinking that Eisenhower was just a good friend. Boy, did she play me for the fool.

It could be the way her hair catches the light, or the way she dresses, or simply the way she picks her nose and eats it—everyone has their own preferences—but there's something about her that boy finds completely irresistible. In any case, she must know something I don't. Because she's got that special someone. And me? All I have is no one.

Okay, that's not entirely true. I've got you guys. But you've got to admit, the three thousand miles in between you and me makes it inconvenient to start anything serious right now. Plus I'm not ready to go lesbionic just yet. Not with CJ lurking in the background. What can I say? Just looking at him makes me feel like I have Pop Rocks going off in my stomach.

Can someone please tell me when that gorgeous, brainy, sweet, cartoon-drawing, oddly quiet boy will break down and kiss me?

I already know exactly how it's going to happen. It'll be just after sunset, and CJ and I will be sitting somewhere perfect. Like in a beautiful flower-lined gazebo, or maybe at a McDonald's, if it's raining outside. He'll be looking at me so intently, I'll wonder if I have food on my face. And so I'll say, “CJ, do I have food on my face?” But before I'm able to get out a compact, he'll lean over, smelling cinnamony like always, his eyelashes grazing my cheeks . . . his violin bow poking me in the ribs . . . and he'll kiss me. And then, as soon as our lips meet, strange and wonderful things will happen. Birds will miraculously start chirping (even if we're in Mickey Dee's), my hair will stop frizzing, and my skin will brighten up with that healthy glow that only true love (and a good moisturizer) can provide. And he'll look at me again and say, “Raisin, you're such a great kisser. Will you be my girlfriend? I love you.”

I just can't wait! If only I knew what he was waiting for. Sure, he hasn't even asked me out yet. Or ever said more than three sentences in a row to me at a time. But still, it's so obvious that we're perfect together.

Maybe I should take up picking my nose and eating it.

But what if poor hygiene isn't the answer?

Lynn thinks I should be the one to make the first move. She said so in the locker room today after gym. Her friend Fippy, another alt kid who works on the 'zine, agreed.

“Have you ever made the first move?” I asked Lynn.

“Many times,” she answered. “Want me to show you how?”

“Sure,” I said, thinking that by “show” she meant she'd draw a diagram for me or put on a puppet show or a PowerPoint presentation. Not that she'd end up making out with the back of her hand. At first I thought it was pretty clever. But when she started using her tongue, I felt like I shouldn't be watching anymore.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, looking away from her. “I think I got it.”

“But the tongue's the most important part,” Fippy said, barely moving her lips when she spoke. She never does. I think it's how she manages to sound so much like someone who cares so little.

“It's true,” Lynn said, applying a fresh coat of black lipstick. “The rest of it is no different than kissing your grandma.”

I don't know what Lynn's got going on with her grandma, but it makes me doubly sure about my decision to look away. The last thing I need is to watch someone spread grandma cooties all over themselves.

The more I think about it, the crazier it makes me. Almost everyone I know has already kissed someone. I made a list to prove it.

 
The Definites:

My mom and dad: At least twice. Once when they had me and once when they had Lola.

My mom and Horace (aka Horse Ass): At least once. I saw it with my own eyes at their wedding. And I have the emotional scars to prove it.

Samantha: All the time. By College Boy Sid. (I know she's just my stepsister, but I'm praying we still share the gene for good-kissing karma.)

Pia: Well, you know who you've kissed. (But just so we have it on record, my cousin Danny.)

Claudia: You also know who you've kissed. (Clint.)

Fiona: I don't know who she's kissed, but with her beauty, popularity, and good taste, you can bet he wears good shoes.

Hailey: Ditto.

Lynn: “Many times.” (See above.)

 
Then there's the Maybes:

Sparkles: He's a mystery, that one.

Countess: I have never seen him with another dog. male or female. I think he's confused. Maybe he'd have a better social life if Sam stopped dressing him like a girl.

Jeremy: Hard to say, what with the freckles and all.

CJ: I can't bear to think about it.

 
And last, the Definitely Not(s):

Me.

Ok, to be fair, I don't think that boy from earth science who chews on miniature light bulbs has either.

 
I've made my decision. I have to get on the Definites list. And CJ has to be the one to get me on it.

 
Comments:

 
Logged in at 4:49 PM, EST

This is so incredible! Life is so fantastic! I've found the answer to all my dreams. It's been hiding in my backpack since the 'zine meeting this afternoon.

Lynn ended the meeting early today so that she could make an announcement.

“Attention. Attention, everyone,” she said as she climbed up onto a wooden folding chair. The thick platform heels of her black boots looked so heavy, I worried that their weight could break the chair and send her crashing through to the floor.

“Welcome to the SantaSmells edition of CoolerThanYou. For the next month or so, I'll be missing several CoolerThanYou meetings to get my braces on. But it's okay; my parents are fine about letting you guys continue to meet here as long as you follow these simple rules.”