Read Confectionately Yours #4: Something New for Free Online Page A

peculiar. You might see someone hooping with multiple hula hoops, or a dad and a baby sporting matching green Mohawks. A kid carrying a dog didn’t register as interesting for most people.
    But it was interesting to me.
    Because Omar can be a pain … but a guy who loves his dog that much can’t be all bad.

“W ho moves to Baltimore?” Meghan demands as she drops her lunch bag on the table and clatters into her seat.
    “Is this one of those games where the answer is in the form of a question?” I ask her.
    Meghan is so upset, she’s practically vibrating, like heat shimmering on pavement. “Sunrise is moving to Baltimore!”
    I nibble my sweet potato fry, which is just the right combination of salty and sweet, crunchy and soft. It’s hard to get upset when you’re eating something this good. “Why is she moving to Baltimore?”
    “Her mom is going to head up some school out there,” Meghan says, as if it’s completely absurd for someone to takea new job in a different city. “Now I have to get someone else to run for veep!”
    “Too bad,” I say. “Sunrise would’ve been perfect.”
    Meghan rips the aluminum top off of her yogurt, then stirs it like she’s out for revenge.
    “You don’t really need a running mate,” I point out.
    Meghan takes a bite of yogurt and looks out the window, thoughtful. “It’s raining out.”
    “It’s spring.” I nibble another fry. “It’s always rainy in spring.”
    It’s an offhand comment, the kind people make all the time, but Meghan looks at me with her clear blue gaze. “Flowers need rain,” she says.
    “Yeah.”
    “Just like I need an organized person for vice president,” Meghan explains.
    “Hmm,” I say. “Are those two things related?”
    “I can run by myself, but I’m not sure I’d be a great president unless I could work with someone good for vice president. My ideas can’t bloom , Hayley, unless I have some help!”
    I make figure eights in my ketchup, thinking it over. “Well, maybe you should ask Omar.”
    “Omar!” Meghan tries to snort, but it comes out a cough, and she ends up hacking all over the table.
    “Don’t cough on my fries,” I tell her. “Yes, Omar. He’s smart, and he’s pretty organized.”
    “No.”
    “And he really cares —”
    “No,” Meghan snaps. Her voice is like a door slamming. “Look, Hayley, I know you’re trying to help. But Omar won’t take being vice president seriously. Trust me. I need someone more like you.”
    The word you hangs in the air there, buzzing like a dragonfly, and Meghan’s eyebrows lift.
    “I don’t think so,” I say.
    “Yes! You! Why didn’t I think of it before?”
    “I’m not really the student government type.”
    “Of course you are!” Meghan insists. “You helped me with the campaign to keep bake sales in school.”
    “Which totally failed!” I point out.
    “But still! And you helped with the talent show.”
    “Because you made me.”
    “Well, I’m making you again!” Meghan grins. “Oh, come on, Hayley. Look — it’ll be fun! I’ll do most of thework, anyway. You can just help me keep on track. You’re good at color-coding things — and at coming up with good ideas.”
    I feel like my mom must have, with Chloe and Omar and the dog all begging her to give in. “Oh, boy.”
    “Look, Hayley. It’s mostly throwing parties. You love parties!” Meghan smiles sweetly. She interlaces her fingers and props her chin on them, batting her eyelashes.
    Here’s the problem: I can’t think of a good reason to say no. If Meghan were president, we probably would have fun putting on parties together. And she has a point — I do enjoy color-coding things. I get that from my mom. “Okay, Meghan, I’ll think about it.”
    “I knew you’d do it!”
    “I said I’d think about it!”
    “Oh, that’s as good as saying yes. So we should probably start thinking about your campaign speech.”
    “Speech?”
    “I’ll let you see what I’ve written for mine, and