When you clicked on weight-loss ads, as Cody had done lately, they promised all sorts of fantastic things.

Drop 10 pounds by Friday!

Lose that spare tire by dawn!

Control your appetite with our new super-secret technique!

Or, he thought, you could do what he was doing now, which was staring at a mound of disgusting-looking steamed crabs and wondering if he’d ever eat anything again. The crabs were piled high in the middle of a picnic table in his neighbors’ backyard. Cody had no trouble imagining that he could get sick from just looking at these things.

“They’re from the Gulf of Mexico,” Mr. Hoffman said as he grabbed a big crab dusted with orange seasoning and plopped it on the paper plate in front of him. “Probably from Louisiana. It’s too early for our Chesapeake Bay crabs. But we wanted to welcome you folks to the neighborhood, Baltimore-style.”

Oh, Cody thought, you shouldn’t have. And he meant it. You really, really shouldn’t have.

Looking around, Cody noticed that he seemed to be the only one not having a good time on this warm Sunday afternoon.

Paul and Joan Hoffman and their daughter, Jessica, who was in a couple of Cody’s classes at York Middle, were enthusiastically whacking the crabs with little wooden mallets and digging out the yucky-looking white stuff inside. So were Cody’s mom and dad, who, once they’d been given a quick lesson on the art of crab picking, had taken to it like seasoned pros.

Apparently there was a ritual to be followed. First, the Hoffmans explained, you pulled off the little legs and licked off the seasoning. Then you cracked open the claws and dug out the meat. Then you did the same thing with the shell. But when you cracked open the shell, Cody saw, you found some really yucky-looking green stuff.

“That’s called the mustard,” Mr. Hoffman explained. “Some people like it. It’s sort of the crab’s, um, liver and pancreas.”

Oh, yum, yum, Cody thought. The liver and pancreas!

He looked down at the half-open crab in front of him and felt his stomach recoil.

Whatever happened to welcoming your new neighbors with a cookout? he wondered. With, like, hamburgers and hot dogs? Wouldn’t that be a nice thing to do? Who didn’t like all-American food like that?

Or how about a pizza party? That would be even better! No fuss, no muss for the hosts. Although pizza, Cody had to admit, was probably not the best thing for a thirteen-year-old ballplayer newly determined to lose weight so he wouldn’t be the butt of jokes for the entire population of York Middle School, not to mention one particular member of his Babe Ruth League team.

Cody went back to listlessly whacking a crab claw, hoping no one would notice he was too grossed out to eat any of the stuff.

Suddenly he was aware of someone standing behind him.

“Let me guess,” Jessica began. “Wisconsin Boy is semi–freaking out about now. He’s never even seen steamed crabs, never mind eaten them. And the idea of popping a chunk of that white stuff in his mouth is making him want to hurl. Is that pretty much the story so far?”

Cody nodded weakly and felt his face growing red. Jessica was a slim, athletic-looking girl with long blond hair and big blue eyes. Gazing into those eyes now reminded Cody that he never knew what to say in the presence of pretty girls.

He tugged his shirt down over his belly and managed a weak smile. Immediately, alarm bells went off in his head: No, don’t give her the fake smile! The one that makes you look like your grandma just kissed you!

“If it makes you feel better,” Jessica said, plopping down next to him, “I didn’t like crabs the first time I tried them, either.”

Actually, Cody thought, that does make me feel better.

“Of course,” Jessica said, “I was only two years old at the time.”

She laughed uproariously and punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Time to man up, Wisconsin Boy,” she said. “Here, watch how the pros do it.”

Expertly, she cracked a shell in half and dug out a thick slice of meat with her knife. “Okay, try this,” she said, holding it out for him. “This is the best part. You’ll think you died and went to heaven.”

Staring at the glistening white chunk, Cody could imagine dying, but not heaven. Increasingly, it was feeling like the opposite of heaven—that other place with all the flames and wailing and suffering. A wave of nausea came over him.

But everyone at the table was looking at him now, waiting to see what he’d do. If he didn’t at least try the stuff, he’d look like the world’s biggest wuss. With his luck, it would get around school too: Know that fat kid who looks like he’s pretty much eaten the world’s entire food supply? He wouldn’t even try a teeny piece of crabmeat! What a loser!

Before he could change his mind, Cody grabbed the meat and popped it in his mouth. He took a couple of quick bites and swallowed. It took a second or two for his brain to process how it tasted.

Which was…Whoa! Not bad! Not bad at all.

It didn’t taste fishy, as he’d expected. Instead it was sweet and tangy. And the little bit of seasoning on it was enough to make his lips tingle.

Cody waited a moment, milking the drama for all it was worth. Finally he smiled and gave the thumbs-up sign as everyone else at the table chuckled.

Jessica clapped him on the back. “I knew you had it in you!” she said. “Sometimes you need a little faith.”

Sounds like one of Mom’s country songs, Cody thought. But now he was secretly glad Jessica had embarrassed him into trying the crabs. And for the next hour, he happily whacked away at the creatures with everyone else, devouring the succulent meat with gusto.

This new town is still weird, he thought. But this is one pastime I could definitely get used to.

When they had all eaten their fill and helped clean up, Jessica went into the garage. She returned with a ball and two gloves, tossing one to Cody.

“Let’s hope you’re better at this than at conversation,” she said, laughing and punching him on the shoulder again.

Cody felt his cheeks get warm again. It dawned on him that he had yet to say a word since arriving at the Hoffmans’.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m usually not this quiet.”

“Quiet?!” Jessica said. “My greyhound talks more than you do!”

Cody smiled. A comedian, he thought. Just what I need.

They stood twenty yards apart and started playing catch. As soon as he put on the glove, Cody could feel the nervousness leaving him, replaced by the calm that baseball always delivered. Right away Cody was impressed with Jessica. She threw with an easy, fluid motion, snapping her wrist and following through perfectly, the ball popping into his glove with a loud THWACK!

“Wow!” Cody said after her first couple of throws.

Jessica nodded. “I know, I know,” she said. “I don’t throw like a girl, right?”

“Not like any girl I know,” Cody said. “And better than most guys.”

“That’s ’cause I’ve played rec-league softball since I was five,” Jessica said. “I’d rather be playing baseball. But they won’t let me. Guess they’re afraid I’ll show up the boys.”

She grinned and blew a stray hair from her face. Then she fired another missile to Cody, who was already backing up a few steps.

“So, what do you think of your new school?” Jessica asked.

Oh, let’s see, Cody thought. I don’t have any friends. I get teased constantly about my weight. I sit with all the losers at lunch. Other than that, everything’s just fine.

But all he said to Jessica was, “It’s okay, I guess.”

“Hey, there’s a ringing endorsement!” Jessica said, firing another heater at him. “Maybe that could be our new motto: York Middle: We’re Just Okay!”

This time Cody had to laugh. He liked Jessica already. The girl was funny and smart and, well, not bad-looking, either. And she could throw a baseball through a brick wall! How could you not like someone like that?

“It’s really a great school, Wisconsin Boy,” she continued. “You’ll see that, once you get used to it.”

Cody shrugged.

“I guess,” he said. “It’s just…not everyone seems thrilled to see a new kid.”

“Oh?” she said, looking at him quizzically.

But Cody didn’t feel like getting into the whole business of exactly who wasn’t welcoming him with open arms—especially the big, hairy guy on his baseball team. So he quickly changed the subject.

“Let’s have a fly-ball contest,” he said. “First to drop one loses.”

They played catch for another fifteen minutes until Cody’s mom and dad said it was time to go. Then Cody and his family thanked the Hoffmans for a wonderful afternoon and headed home.

Cody couldn’t wait to go on Facebook and tell his friends back in Wisconsin how he’d spent the past few hours.

Eating delicious steamed crabs! And playing catch with a pretty girl whose fastball was better than the coach’s son’s!

Not exactly a bad day for the kid.