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 Contents  Title Page Dedication Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Teaser Copyright    Guide  Cover Title Page Dedication Contents Chapter 1 Copyright    Pagebreaks of the print version  Cover Page iii v 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 iv             For my first (and only) feathered pet       Title Page Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Teaser Copyright       “Strawberry and kiwi shouldn’t go together, but they totally do,” I declare. I’m slouched in a shiny red seat at my favorite café, Tasty, with my favorite people, my besties, London and Olivia. In my hand is the best smoothie known to mankind: Strawberry Kiwi. At Tasty, they’re served in tall glasses with thick paper straws. Very fancy, right? It’s not just the smoothies, though. Everything about the inside of this café is dreamy and pastel colored, like you’ve stepped through a magical portal or something. I could stay here forever. “I prefer Berry Berry Wild,” London says, wrinkling her nose. She’s not a big fan of kiwi. Olivia slurps noisily through her straw. “I think I agree.” I pretend to glare at her. “Traitor!” Olivia sticks her smoothie-coated tongue out at me. “Ew, gross!” I cry. “Amir’s rubbing off on you!” Amir is my six-year-old brother and the king of grossness. Olivia adores him, which I kinda get because he’s super adorable when he wants to be. Still, eating with his mouth wide-open is a signature Amir move. Disgusting. My disgust makes Olivia even bolder. She leans closer and crosses her eyes. “What’s gross about me, huh, Imaan? Huh?” “You’re weird,” I tell her, trying not to laugh. She knows I don’t really mean it, even though we haven’t known each other very long. She and her family moved into the neighborhood just a few weeks ago. Now we’re not only best friends, but also business partners in a pet-sitting company called Must Love Pets. Olivia may be awesome, but she’s also weird. A good kind of weird. She sits back, arms across her chest. “Weird because I like berries?” “Berries are the strangest!” I insist. “Like blueberries, so tart they shouldn’t even be a fruit! And raspberries have those tiny hairs on them. What’s up with that?” Olivia’s eyes widen. “Kiwis literally have hairy skin!” I shrug and sip some more smoothie. “But they’re delicious.” London throws a wrapper at me. She hates it when people argue in front of her. “Stop, you children!” Olivia and I grin at each other. “Sorry, Mom!” I say. Unlike Olivia, I’ve known London forever. Since we were babies, to be exact. I don’t even remember our first meeting. We were probably in diapers. Ew, why did I just think of that? I hate anything poop related, which isn’t ideal for someone taking care of animals. Olivia is slurping her smoothie almost like a challenge. I turn to her and whisper, “You know I’m right. Strawberry Kiwi would win all the awards!” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah!” We stare at each other, fighting our grins. Then we both pick up our glasses and clink them together like we’re fancy ladies. “Cheers!” she says. “Go for the berries—see if I care!” I reply. “You two should have a competition,” London muses. “Take a survey and see how many people like each smoothie. It’s called market research.” I put my fist next to my ear, pretending to be on the phone. “Hey, London, Shark Tank called. They said they already have enough actual sharks, thank you very much!” London glares at me. She’s a huge Shark Tank fan and probably the only person who watches the show with pen and notepad in hand. Olivia and I dissolve into giggles at London’s fierce expression. “I could be a shark one day,” London mutters. I stop laughing and give her a sideways hug. “Definitely,” I assure her. If anyone can grow up to be an amazing entrepreneur one day, it’s London. She knows so much about business, it’s unreal. Plus, she wears smart suit jackets with the sleeves rolled up like a boss lady. We start talking about the latest Shark Tank episode. We watched it together at London’s house two days ago. It was a lot of fun, even though I only understood