Poised on the brink of becoming a teenager, Kat Cruz rides waves of excitement and worry. Lifeâs possibilities are on the horizon: her first bra, perhaps a boyfriend, maybe a job as a journalist. It all seems so close but just out of reach, until her family moves to a ramshackle fixer-upper and Kat meets the neighborâs son, Will Morris. Despite the sad state of the house and a rash of burglaries in the area, one look into Willâs golden-brown eyes makes Kat think that perhaps the move wonât be so bad.
Kat relies on her best friend Jen to help her navigate their new adolescent world, including surviving her little brother Maxâs superhero antics and catching Willâs attention. Katâs parents are distracted by their floundering gym business and her grandmotherâs advancing Alzheimerâs, leaving Kat to fend for herself against school bully Maria. Then Katâs editorials in the school paper offend Willâs mother. Worse, her dance at the school talent show shocks her, and she turns her frosty back on the entire Cruz family. With life unraveling at the seams, Kat must grow more quickly than expectedâand in more ways than simply filling out a bra.
Poised on the brink of becoming a teenager, Kat Cruz rides waves of excitement and worry. Lifeâs possibilities are on the horizon: her first bra, perhaps a boyfriend, maybe a job as a journalist. It all seems so close but just out of reach, until her family moves to a ramshackle fixer-upper and Kat meets the neighborâs son, Will Morris. Despite the sad state of the house and a rash of burglaries in the area, one look into Willâs golden-brown eyes makes Kat think that perhaps the move wonât be so bad.
Kat relies on her best friend Jen to help her navigate their new adolescent world, including surviving her little brother Maxâs superhero antics and catching Willâs attention. Katâs parents are distracted by their floundering gym business and her grandmotherâs advancing Alzheimerâs, leaving Kat to fend for herself against school bully Maria. Then Katâs editorials in the school paper offend Willâs mother. Worse, her dance at the school talent show shocks her, and she turns her frosty back on the entire Cruz family. With life unraveling at the seams, Kat must grow more quickly than expectedâand in more ways than simply filling out a bra.
Chapter 1
âI got it!â Jen flew through my bedroom door.
âWhat?â I asked. âWhat did you get?â
My bestie sidled up beside me and smiled. âYou know . . . what weâve been talking about.â
âA boyfriend?â I giggled.
âI wish.â She waved me on. âGo again.â
âUh...um...â I flopped down on my bed and gazed up at her, clueless.
âDuh! Kat, I got my period.â
âPeriod? Whatâs that?â a voice squeaked from my door.
My seven-year-old brother Max swooped in, superhero-style. His Spider-Man wings, cut from an old badminton net, spread wide to look like webs. He zoomed around the room, angling his wings to ensnare my desk chair and toppling a pile of magazines to the floor before skittering back to the door. My bratty brother always found a way to stick in his two cents.
âGet out of my room!â I hollered.
âIâm not in your room.â He poked out his tongue at me.
I quickly scurried Max all the way out and shut the door in his face. His footsteps pounded down the hallway, running to Mom, of course. Fine with me.
My parentsâ gym, Cruzâs Athletic Club, hadnât recovered after Silverâs Gym swept into the neighborhood and bit off a whole chunk of our regulars. Silverâs Gym was shiny and new with oodles of space for more equipment and classes, a basketball court, and even a swimming pool. Membership at our plain old gym slumped, and my parents had to lay off some employees. Dad was working at the gym nonstop now, Mom was working there longer and longer hours, and I was stuck with Max. A TON.
Maxâs superhero-fantasy life snowballed and my tween social life crashed. Seriously, I had almost no personal life. My friends were literally forced to come to me for urgent, in-the-flesh face time.
Thank God for my bestest pal, Jen. She lived in the same apartment building and popped in all the time.
âSorry about the Spider-Man blitz,â I told her. I leaned back against my Barbie-pink headboard and cuddled my raggedy old Sleeping Beauty doll that still hung out on my bed. âSo, Iâm dying to hear what happened.â
âWell,âshe said, settling down in my desk chair and leaning in. âFirst, I had some cramping.â She let out a deflated sigh. âUgh. Totally sucky.â
âOuch,â I groaned.
âThen I felt something wet in my pants.â She scrunched up her nose. âSo gross.â
âEww.â
The truth? I wanted my period with all my heart. Yeah, it sounded awful. But it was the price we women paid to cross the bridge from childhood to adulthood. Jen had hers. I wanted to be next. Maybe then Mom would start treating me like the almost-teenager I was instead of the child that I was not.
Jen slouched down and raked her fingers through her carroty-red pixie. Then her green eyes lit up. âThatâs not all.â She pulled up her T-shirt and stuck out her chest, showing off her new B-cup bra. It was Fourth-of-July themed, with red, white, and blue flags scattered all over.
âThereâs more. Check it out.â She hopped up and pulled down her baggy boyfriend jeans just enough for the total reveal. âThe matching panties!â
So lucky. No boyfriend yet, but the big P and a new bra.
For forever, weâd been practically identical in some ways. We were both five-three-ish, one-hundred-pound sixth graders at Grant Middle School. Then, all of a sudden, Jen had a growth spurt, shot up two-plus inches, added ten poundsâand curves. Now, one glimpse in a mirror punched out a whole different pic of us, with Jen all shapely lines and me a stick figure. Super awkward for me. To be honest, I felt a twinge of envy.
Figures, though. Jen actually started blossoming last summer, but my chest was still as flat as a board. Iâd gone with her for her first fitting of an AA-cupper, so I totally knew how to get the straps and cups just right. When my time came for my bra fitting, Iâd be ready. But worse luck, any growth spurt in me seemed pitifully slow. I was twelve going on thirteen, so I hoped my growth spurt would happen soon.
Turning thirteen, more than getting a bra or my period, was of course the absolute towering milestone I had my heart set on, when I would get all the recognition and privilege of teenhood. I imagined I would then feel just like Sleeping Beauty awakening or Cinderella transforming from a scullery maid into a princess.
I was deep in thought when the door whooshed wide open. Jen and I yanked our heads around. Mom and Max stood there, saucer-eyed. Jen covered her flags, and I sucked in a deep breath.
âEver hear of knocking?â I asked as patiently as I could.
Mom shot me her frowniest look. âMax wants to know when heâll get his period,â she said, all breathless. She flashed me a look that said: I need an answer, and it better be good.
I rolled my eyes, my signature response for Fine. Whatev.
Max propped his spider-web arms on his non-hips.
Mom pinched her lips. âWhy did he ask?â
I raised a brow. âI dunno.â
She squeezed her eyes shut as if sheâd mustered her last shred of patience. Her voice grew screechy. âHeâs seven!â
Max was still playing the baby card like it was a get-out-of-jail-free pass. So, to throw some shade on his tattling, I launched my defense. I arched my eyebrows and made one of those throat-clearing ahem sounds to turn the full spotlight on my case. Then I dramatically tossed my inky-black curls behind me and narrowed my dark eyes on Mom.
âWell,â I said, âIâm almost a teenager. And, FYI, someone did get her period!â
Now Mom has to notice I am on the threshold of womanhood. And Max is a meddler.
Mom lowered her glasses, considering. âWho got her period?â
Jen grinned.
Mom blinked as the truth blazed into sight. âOoooooh,â she said. She pushed her glasses back up. âMax, stay out of Katâs room.â She turned to me. âStop being so mean to your little brother. Andââ
She raved on, chewing me out as if I were a child. As if. I tuned her out.
Finally, I was saved by the ringing of the phone. Mom jumped at the sound. Worry lines cut between her eyes. âProbably Gran again,â she muttered.
I loved my gran, but lately sheâd been calling about a lot of silly stuff. Yesterday, it was how to set a table even though Iâd seen her do it just fine a jillion times before.
Mom turned her crinkled brow on Max. âHoney,â she said in a syrupy-sweet voice. âGo play with your marbles while Mommy talks to Gran.â She flashed her worry frown at me and sighed. Then she stomped out of the room, dragging Max with her.
Really, there is no justice in this family.
Soon after, Jen went home to change her pad. When would my period come? Would I ever wear a bra? I wasnât shooting for a Wonder Woman miracle. Any cup size would do.
I pasted two Post-its on my bulletin board, the one above my laptop desk that screamed âFor Girls Onlyâ with its pink, scalloped border and T-W-E-E-N written in huge pink letters. I scribbled a note reminding me to ask Mom about buying me a bra. It wasnât like I was asking for the moon or anything. I pinned up one more note written in marker and all caps: KEEP MAX OUT.
Not even an hour later, Mom rapped on my door. âOff to work in a few,â she called out. âKeep an eye on Max.â
âAgain?â I moaned. I knew my parents had to work but babysitting five times a weekâfive timesâwas a real pain.
âI heard that,â Mom sang, throwing open my door and pushing her yucky veggie smoothie at me, her latest inedible health drink mixed with dandelions.
âBlech.â I wrinkled my nose and shot out my hand to cut her off.
Mom chuckled. She swished her long dark hair behind her and paraded out the door.
I headed into the living room. Our time-worn sofa had been sat on and scrubbed clean so many times that a throw cover was permanently draped over it to hide the worst spots on the cushions. On the coffee table, a pile of magazines hid the stains that glasses and bottles had left behind. The rest of the table was littered with a bunch of unpaid bills from Walmart, Target, you name it.
Max crouched on the floor at the edge of a cardboard playing field with his marbles. A Superman T-shirt had replaced his Spider-Man netting. It didnât matter that he couldnât fly or spin a single web. He thought he was a hero.
I plopped down on the couch and worked on my article for the Grantline Newsletter. Iâd just been named editor, not to toot my own horn or anything. I had been hooked on journalism ever since I was eight and had written my first story about saving polar bears for a school project. I had big dreams of writing for a newspaper.
Max was still engrossed in his game as marbles skipped from his fingertips and flew everywhere. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if a person could disown a sibling.
Clearly, the apartment we lived in was shrinking. Since Max was born, we had been busting out of our two-bedroom, plus a den thatâd been transformed into a third bedroom. Maxâs so-called âbedroomâ had no door or closet, just a small daybed and a few shelves for his clothes. No matter how often Mom neatly folded and placed his pants with his pants and shirts with his shirts, they always ended up a sloppy mishmash of everything all over the place.
Plus, his toys never seemed to return to their home in the basket under his bed, especially his beloved marbles. You were lucky if you could make it from the front door through the living room without stumbling over one of his stupid marbles. And Max never tired of blasting off his homemade toy space shuttle from the living room to the planet Krypton, where he was sure all the lost bits and pieces could be found.
Even worse than his stuff overflowing into every nook of our apartment was Maxâs latest habit of hanging out in my room and fiddling with my laptop. The situation was growing more annoying by the day, and I wasnât the only one who realized space was tight. Mom was all over Dad about it the minute he filed through the door later that night.
âKat and Max got into it again today,â Mom said.
I was relaxing on the couch, flipping through my Girlsâ Life mag, when I heard my name. It was impossible not to eavesdrop.
âWhat was it this time?â Dad asked. He sounded tired after a long day at the gym and barely concerned.
âMax went to use Katâs laptop and walked in on a personal conversation.â
Dad shrugged. âDoesnât sound like such a big deal.â
âNot a big deal?â echoed Mom.
She trailed him into the kitchen and her voice faded. I could hardly make out what she was saying about Max being in school now and needing a proper desk. I drifted toward the kitchen to find out.
âHeâs in second grade.â Dad chuckled. He pulled a soda can from the fridge, popped it open, and gulped.
Mom got that tight-lipped look on her face. âWe need more space, Sam,â she said.
A long minute passed, and I was beginning to see that my privacy and Maxâs desk were sides of the main event. My parents had been âsaving penniesâ for a house since I could remember. Theyâd always opted to wait until they had the money to make a good move.
All the same, Mom went in for the kill with a brand-new slant to boost her case. âYou know, moving to a home in a better neighborhood could open us up to a whole new clientele for the gym.â
Dadâs face lit up. Not much meant more to him than saving the family biz. âGood point, Dot,â he said.
Then Mom stopped beating around any bushes and said what she really wantedâa house, and there was no stopping her. They went back and forth about it, zigzagged this way and that, snaked here and there and all around it until Dad said, âLetâs consider it.â
As far as I knew, we hadnât won any lottery. So, what were they thinking? Beats me.
Twelve-year-old Kat Cruz canât wait for her next birthday. Before she can become a teenager, though, sheâll have to make it through seventh grade. The year starts off rough when her parents buy the most run-down house in the neighborhood, and a bully snaps a picture of Kat in front of her new house. Sheâs constantly stuck babysitting her younger brother, who thinks heâs a superhero. Katâs editorials in the school newspaper make a splash, but not always in a good way. Sheâs also crushing on her new neighbor, Will, despite the fact that his mom doesnât seem to like her. With new challenges every day, will Kat make it to her thirteenth birthday in one piece?
OMG UR a Teenager by Leslie Young is a contemporary slice-of-life novel full of clear, crisp writing that makes it easy for young readers to get into the story. The relatability will keep them invested throughout the book. Kat experiences things that many kids going through pre-adolescence face: bullying, the excitement and mortification of buying your first bra, and changing family dynamics. Most of all, she wants to be seen as the mature nearly-teen she is, not a child and permanent babysitter for her little brother, Max. Tween readers will understand exactly how she feels, and adults will easily recall both the joys and pains of middle school.
Kat's family dynamic is true to life as well, with well-intentioned parents who don't understand their daughter's point of view, an annoying little brother that Kat loves (even if she wants to kill him sometimes), and her vivacious grandmother whose Alzheimer's puts extra strain on the family. Kat's and Max's relationship is developed particularly well, showing their closeness (especially in the climax), even if they don't always get along. However, Gran's storyline wasn't as well-developed, making her inclusion in the book feel unnecessary.
At times the story can feel disjointed, such as an abrupt cut from summer to Halloween. Like Gran's story, some plot points are dropped without a conclusion. Kat's narration is also, at times, too mature to be realistic for a twelve-year-old. While adult readers might have to stretch their suspension of disbelief at some of Kat's inner monologues, tween readers may find her insights useful in their own lives.
Overall, OMG UR a Teenager is a warm-hearted, relatable story or tweens, and anyone who's ever been one.