Romance of the Snob Squad Read Online Free Page B

intercepted Max’s fist, which was headed toward Lydia’s face.
    Prairie said, “How about an obstacle c-course? We could b-build tunnels and m-mazes, stuff like that. At the end, Harley could r-ring a bell.”
    “Brilliant!” I cried. “What do you think, Max? Can we train Harley to run an obstacle course in three weeks?”
    She studied the rat. With one hand she formed a tunnel over his head. “Hit it, Harley,” she said.
    In a flash Harley lunged through her hand to the other side. Watching him perch on his haunches to wash his whiskers, I thought, Who needs Bill Nye, the science guy, when you’ve got Maxine, the lean, mean, rodent machine?

Chapter 5
    W e had a family counseling session scheduled for Tuesday night. Dr. Sidhwa, our family psychologist, was pretty cool. Last month he’d helped me work through a major trauma in my life. Now he was working with Vanessa and playing marriage counselor for my parents. Dr. Sid, or as he pronounced it, Dr. Seed, had asked if we could all meet with him this week as a family unit. Family unit. No one in their right mind would call us that. Which made me wonder again about Dr. Sid.
    When our clunky old station wagon pulled in next to Dr. Sid’s parking space in the lot downtown, Dad muttered, “It’s nice to know the Solanos are financing the good doctor’s Ferrari.”
    Mom gave him the look. You know the one: Watch your language; there are children present.
    We didn’t speak the whole time it took to ride up in the elevator to the fourteenth floor. We were all nervous as gnats, I think. What would we say in front of one another, as a family unit? What could we say? Nothing close to the truth, for sure.
    “Welcome, welcome. Glad to see you all,” Dr. Sid greeted us. “Jenny, I’d like to talk to you alone first for a few minutes.”
    “Me?” I almost lost my black bean burrito. No big loss. “Sure, okay.” I watched with panicked eyes as my family unit took seats in the waiting room.
    “Have a chair.” Dr. Sid motioned me into his office. He closed the door behind me. “How is your food diary coming?” he said. “I spoke with Minnette about it last week.”
    Minnette was my registered dietician. I wasn’t sure what she was registered for; the Jenny Craig Lifetime Achievement Award, probably. She weighed about forty-five pounds—with her shoes on. “Fine,” I said. “I mean, it’s almost full.”
    He arched both eyebrows as if to say, “Already?” Instead he asked, “Have you discovered anything interesting about your eating habits?”
    “Besides the fact that I eat all the time? Not really.”
    Dr. Sid smiled.
    I added, “I do have a question. She said I should write down everything I eat. Does that include toothpaste? I mean, there must be calories in Crest, since it’s so minty and sweet. Not that I’m eating toothpaste in globs or anything.” I didn’t add, Just that once when Mom made zucchini-and-bran biscuits for breakfast. I said, “If Mom asks where all the toothpaste is going, tell her it’s Vanessa. You know how you’re supposed to brush your teeth after every meal? Vanessa brushes her teeth after every bite.”
    Dr. Sid frowned.
    “Not that she’s worse,” I said quickly. “She’s a lot better. She hardly ever cuts her Cheerios in half anymore.”
    He smiled.
    To myself I added, She just eats half as many.
    “That’s good to hear,” he said. “And you’re helping her by intervening when she starts to exhibit repetitive behaviors?”
    “Yeah. I think it’s working. I hope it is.”
    The conversation stalled. At least I’d managed to divert it away from me. Or so I thought.
    “So,” Dr. Sid said, folding his hands atop his desk. “Have you identified certain times or situations when you feel a more powerful urge to eat?”
    That was an interesting question. “As a matter of fact I have.”
    Dr. Sid arched an expectant eyebrow.
    “Mealtimes,” I said.
    The eyebrow plunged.
    “No, seriously. I remember how