"I can't believe you're crying in front of two hundred kids." My best friend Melinda Vest stared across the table at me. "Something really bad must have happened."

"Grossly awful. Totally terrible. The pits." We were sitting in the school cafeteria. I dashed the tears away with my hand. "Mom and Vic are planning a formal wedding. The big splashy kind with rice and music. And Mom wants me to be flower girl."

Mel shrugged and ate a potato chip. "Tell her eleven is too old for flower girl."

"I'm not the only one who's too old! My mother is forty with a daughter in college, for Jake's sake. A big wedding at her age is embarrassing."

"Don't be so dramatic. My mother's thirty-five and had a baby this year. Try that for embarrassing."

"Thirty-five isn't as bad as forty!"

"Marriage isn't as bad as Rosie. I have to baby-sit."

"At least, no one's looking at you."

"Rosie spits up milk and dirties her diapers. I have to clean her up."

"That's really gross," I admitted, shuddering. If my mom and Vic had a baby, I'd run away from home.

Want to read more? Click here to order this book.