by Coco Simon
I went to my settings and clicked on Take Blog Offline.
A warning popped up on my screen. “Do you really want to do this? Your blog will not be visible to the public.”
I clicked on Yes.
That would take care of the problem, I was convinced. I would take a break from the blog for a couple of weeks and wait for this to blow over. I needed a break anyway, after the crazy week I’d had.
As I showered and dressed for my shift at Molly’s, I briefly wondered if Allie’s mom knew about the post. I had deleted it late last night, and I didn’t think that visiting Tamiko’s Take was on her to-do list on a Sunday morning.
I thought about texting Allie and Sierra to see if they had seen the comments, but decided against it. I was going to see them in a few hours, and it would be easier to talk in person. I wondered how they would react. They wouldn’t take sides and accuse me of being nasty . . . right?
Everything will be fine, I told myself. This is going to be a great day after all.
I was partly right. But before the day got great, it got a whole lot worse. . . .
CHAPTER NINE
CRUSHED!
“Sprinkle Sundays sisters!” I said as I walked into Molly’s for my shift. Allie and Sierra were already there. I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Let’s get ready to sell ice creeeeeeeeeeeam!” I called out in a voice like a wrestling announcer.
Allie and Sierra looked at me, but they didn’t laugh. My stomach sank a little bit. Before I could talk to them, Allie’s mom appeared from the back room.
“Was that Tamiko? Oh, Tamiko, good. I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “Could you please come with me to the back room? I need to speak with you immediately.”
She sounded like a teacher, or like my mom when she’s mad at me. I glanced at Allie and Sierra again for support. Did they know what was going on?
Allie looked away from me deliberately, and Sierra just looked sad.
Uh-oh, I thought, and I followed Mrs. S. to her office. She sat down at her desk, and I sat in a chair in front of her.
Mrs. S. took a deep breath. “Honestly, Tamiko, I am very disappointed in you,” she said. I knew right away that she was talking about the Molly’s website post.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was tired last night and a little cranky. I deleted the comment almost immediately. But I had no idea that people would take a screenshot of it.”
Allie’s mom was biting her lip while I was talking. She looked so uncomfortable!
“Tamiko, I know you take great pride in your work, and your creativity is second to none,” she said. “But I need you to help me understand why you made that comment in the first place. There is no excuse for insulting someone who is simply trying to have fun and create an ice cream treat at home. Jodie should not be ridiculed because her banana split wasn’t up to an ice cream parlor standard.”
“I didn’t ridicule her,” I protested. “It was just a silly joke. I make funny comments all the time on my blog, and even on the Molly’s website.”
“See, that’s what concerns me, Tamiko, that you can’t see there is a difference between being funny and being hurtful,” she said.
I could feel my face getting hot. “But I do understand! I deleted the post, remember! I was just really tired last night. I mean, I know you said no excuses, but I did jump in and help out at the shop yesterday. So I wasn’t on my game last night when I was replying. And you had told me that I needed to respond to the comments quickly.”
I felt kind of bad for bringing up how I had helped at the shop, because I had genuinely wanted to help. But I felt like I was on trial and had to defend myself. Objection, Your Honor! There were extenuating circumstances!
Mrs. S. sighed. “I appreciate your help, but this tells me that maybe you need to take a break from running the Molly’s website. Just for a little while, until things calm down.”
Boom! I felt like a giant hammer had crushed me. I imagined myself as flat as a pancake on the chair.
“All right,” I said in a tiny little voice.
“The important thing is to limit the damage,” Mrs. S. went on. “I’m going to post an apology on the website right now. And in the future, Tamiko, I’d appreciate you being more careful when you comment on someone’s work online.”
“Uh-huh,” I said absently.
“Thank you, Tamiko,” Mrs. S. said, which was a signal for me to leave.
I stood up. I dreaded going back out to the shop, to face those looks from Allie and Sierra. It was humiliating. But then anger suddenly rose inside me and crushed those feelings of humiliation.
This isn’t a big deal, I thought. And now Mrs. S. is suspending me? After all I’ve done to build up her business on social media. This is so unfair!
The anger pushed me out the door and to the ice cream counter. I tied my apron without looking at Allie and Sierra, took my position, and put on the biggest, fakest smile I could muster.
“Welcome to Molly’s. What can I get you today?”
When the rush died down, I didn’t take photos to post on social media, like I usually did. I marched over to the mix-ins station, grabbed the meat tenderizer that we used to crush cookies, and began smashing them.
Smash! Smash! Smash!
Sierra walked up to me with a worried expression in her big brown eyes. “Tamiko, are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” I asked. “Everybody’s mad at me for no reason. Even you and Allie.”
Sierra shook her head. “That’s not true! I’m not mad at you. I know you’re not a mean person. I’m just sad that some people think you are.”
“I’m not mad either,” Allie chimed in. “It’s just that my mom is building a business . . . and needs steady customers. . . .”
“Yeah, and she was getting them, thanks to the website,” I pointed out, and I smashed some cookies for emphasis. Was Allie really going to blame me for ruining the business? “Everybody is making such a big deal out of this, when it doesn’t have to be! I even had to shut down my blog because of all the mean comments I was getting. And people are saying way worse things about me than I said about that silly banana split.”
“I’m sorry that’s happening to you,” Sierra said. “But maybe if you just apologized, people would stop.”
“Allie’s mom is apologizing on the Molly’s website,” I said. “The website I am no longer allowed to manage.”
“That’s good, but an apology on Tamiko’s Take would be good too,” Allie said. “You might not have meant to hurt Jodie or upset anybody, but you did.”
I didn’t respond immediately and kept smashing the cookies. I was still angry, but I felt the red-hot rage slowly fading away. Finally I sighed. “That’s what Kai told me,” I said. “I guess it would make sense to do the thing that my brother and my two best friends are asking me to do, right?”
They both smiled. “Uh, yeah!” Sierra said.
I groaned. “Ugh! Apologizing is so embarrassing! But I’ll do it. I just need to figure out the right thing to say.”
“You’re the queen of social media. You can figure it out,” Allie said with a grin.
“You also need to figure out what do with all those crushed cookies,” Sierra said. “I hate to tell you, but the mix-in jar is already full.”
I looked at the crushed-cookie jar. Sierra was right. It was already filled to the brim. In my burst of anger I hadn’t even stopped to check if we actually needed a refill!
“Guess I have to promote our cookie-crumble sundae today,” I said. We all laughed, and I felt the anger float away. Thank goodness! I hated that feeling. I decided that I was not going to let this whole blog mess spoil my day.
“So does this mean you’re still my date to the block party?” I asked Allie.
“Of course!” she replied.
I grinned back. “Awesome,” I said, and then the bell on the door jingled and a small party of people came in.
“Incoming!” I yelled, and I ran back to my station
by the counter. “Welcome to Molly’s. What delicious ice cream treat can I get for you today?”
I felt slightly less crushed to know that Allie and Sierra were mostly on my side. But Allie’s comment about me hurting the business had really stung. At first I held my breath, worried that one of the customers would complain about the comment or declare their boycott of Molly’s. No one seemed to know about the comment, though, or even the apology that Allie’s mom had probably posted by now. As I took order after order, I thought, If people are still coming to the store, what does it matter if I apologize on my blog or not?
Ugh. Well, I had promised my friends that I would apologize. And I would. But I was going to do it on my terms, in my own sweet time.
CHAPTER TEN
PARTY TIME!
The Wilson Street block party always took place during a three-day weekend. Wilson was the longest street in Bayville, and a few years before, the people who lived there had had a block party. A lot of families with kids lived on that street, so over time the event had become the unofficial start-of-summer party for kids, especially kids who went to MLK. Basically, if you knew someone who knew someone who knew someone who lived on or near Wilson, you were invited.
You were also invited if you were personal friends with the band, and I was really excited to see Sierra sing again. I hoped that the whole business with the banana slop wouldn’t haunt me at the block party, but those hopes were not very high.
I spent a long time choosing the perfect outfit. I wanted a summery look that was festive but casual. After a lot of mixing and matching, I decided on a denim jumper dress with a polka-dot T-shirt underneath. To make my dress even more festive, I added glittery pin buttons that I had made myself. One of them was even an ice cream pin!
I looked at myself in the mirror and nodded, satisfied. I had a flash of inspiration: I should post about my custom pin buttons on my blog! But then I remembered. My blog was staying shut down until I posted an apology. And I wasn’t feeling ready to post that apology yet.
Allie’s dad dropped her off at my house at six thirty, and we walked over, because Wilson was pretty close to my street. Even a few blocks away, we could hear the sounds of kids’ happy screams and music being played by a DJ.
“Look! There’s a bouncy house this year!” I said, pointing.
“Fun!” Allie said. “Tanner was begging me to bring him, but I’m really glad Dad let me come by myself. He’s taking Tanner to the movies instead.”
I looked down at the plate of hummus and veggies my mom had made for me to bring. Since it was a block party, everybody contributed something. Allie had a box of cookies from Molly’s. Thankfully, I no longer felt like crushing them.
“Let’s go drop these off at the food table,” I said.
“Sure,” Allie agreed. “I’m hungry!”
We walked to the center of the block, where three big grills were smoking, tables were stacked with food, and coolers were full of sodas and bottled water. Nearby, Reagan was setting up her drum kit in front of two big speakers.
My stomach growled as I put down my plate.
We walked around the tables and piled food onto our plates. Pasta salad, tomatoes and mozzarella, crackers and cheese, potato salad—there was so much stuff! Allie and I took our plates over to a shady tree and started to chow down, watching people walk by. I was looking out for Sierra, and also for Ewan, I realized. I was really hoping to run into him. Then a terrible thought hit me. What if Ewan thought I was a horrible person because of the blog, like everybody else did? That would hurt.
As I was lost in that thought, three girls walked by. They were all wearing tank tops, denim shorts, and sandals. Each one had long, straight hair in the same style, but in a different shade. I vaguely recognized them as some girls from Allie’s school that she and Colin called “the Mean Team.” They stopped in front of us.
“Nice minidress, Tamiko,” hissed the girl with sandy brown hair.
I froze. From her tone of voice, the girl wasn’t complimenting me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
Allie tugged on my arm. “Hey, let’s just go.”
The girl with dark brown hair—I thought her name was Palmer—said, “Minidress? You mean mini-MESS, don’t you, Blair?” And all three girls cackled. I was beginning to understand the whole “Mean Team” thing.
“Now you know how it feels,” added the blonde, and they laughed again and walked away.
I stared at them as they left, and then I realized that my mouth was open. I shut it. I looked down at my dress, which I thought was so cute. It was flowy with a flowery pattern and these bell sleeves that had been popular in the sixties but were hot again this summer.
“How do they even know me?” I asked.
“Everyone’s been sharing your blog, Tamiko,” Allie reminded me. “Your name is right on the site, so any kid who’s on it can see your name.”
“Those three girls are mean to everyone at your school, right?” I snapped. “They insult people every day. And I make one slightly-not-so-nice joke, and suddenly I’m the nasty one?”
“Don’t let it get to you,” Allie said. She held out her hand. “Here, give me your plate. I’m gonna find the garbage.”
I obeyed and then frowned, thinking. I had been assuming that anyone following my blog would know me from school and understand my sense of humor. But putting myself publicly on the internet like that meant that I had to be my best self out there all the time, and not assume that people actually knew me. If I didn’t, there would be consequences. Like people leaving mean comments. Or my being suspended from working on a website.
“Hey!” I yelled when I felt a yank on my ponytail. I spun around to see Ewan standing there, smiling.
“Whoa, chill!” He laughed. “I was just trying to get your attention. You looked deep in thought.”
Then he moved in a little closer. “Although, word around town is that you’ve been kinda hostile lately.”
I groaned. “Not you too? What am I, public enemy number one?”
Ewan laughed again. “Hey, I get your sense of humor,” he said. “It’s one of the things I like about you. You’re honest. But other people may take things you say the wrong way.”
“I know, I know!” I cried, exasperated. “I’m starting to wish I had never started the blog.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Ewan said. “I liked reading your blog. I was sad when you shut it down.”
I was a little surprised, and happy, that Ewan had been reading my blog. I hadn’t realized that people would actually miss it.
Then I felt someone staring at me. I turned around and saw two sixth graders from MLK looking at me and whispering. I groaned. “I think I am public enemy number one. Isn’t there anybody who knew I was just joking?”
“I did,” a quiet voice said behind me.
I turned to see who it was. It was Jodie!
“Jodie, you knew I was kidding?” I asked.
She nodded, her brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. “I actually thought it was kind of funny,” she said with a shy smile. “I mean, that sundae was banana slop! I knew it was bad when I posted it. I was kidding too!”
It hadn’t even occurred to me that Jodie had known that her sundae was bad. Now that I thought about it, her post was pretty funny. She’d probably thought I’d make a silly comment about it and everybody would laugh. But I hadn’t been able to tell it was a joke because, like Kai had said, it’s hard to understand people’s tones on the internet. I was starting to get a much better idea of why my response had caused so much trouble.
“I felt bad when all of those people got angry at you,” Jodie continued. “I’ve been looking for you to tell you it was okay.”
I hugged her. “Thank you so much,” I said gratefully. “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad.”
Jodie smiled at me. “It’s okay,” she said. “I was never mad! But I’d love for you to show me how to make a pretty banana split sometime.”
“Definitely,” I replied. And then it hit me. “That gives me an idea!”
Allie approached us. “Uh-oh. Another idea?”
“Trust me, this is a good one,” I said. “But it’s not for tonight. Come on, let’s go find Sierra!”
I said good-bye to Jodie and Ewan. Then Allie and I walked over to the band area. Reagan was tapping on her drums, Tessa was tuning her guitar, and Kasey was warming up on the keyboard. Sierra, meanwhile, was pacing back and forth.
She ran up and hugged us. “I was worried you weren’t coming!”
“We wouldn’t miss it!” I said.
Sierra scanned the crowd. “There are so many people here! It’s crazy.”
“You’re not nervous, are you?” Allie asked.
“Of course I’m nervous!” Sierra replied. “I know this isn’t our first gig, but it’s definitely our biggest. What if people don’t like us?”
“Hey, I’m the one people don’t like today, so don’t worry about it,” I reminded her. “Besides, you guys are amazing.”
“Right!” Allie agreed.
“Now get up there and sing your heart out!” I told her, giving her a push.
She laughed and joined the other Wildflowers. The girls huddled together for a moment and then took their places. Sierra grabbed the microphone.
“Hello, Wilson Street. We’re the Wildflowers!”
Reagan counted off. “One, two, three, four!”
They launched into their first song, and a crowd gathered. Sierra sounded great! I took out my phone and began snapping pics of the band. If my plan worked, my blog would be up and running again soon, and I could get back to posting photos.
During their third song, Ewan came back over to Allie and me and just kind of stood next to us while we listened to the band. Then Colin walked up with Amanda and Eloise, two friendly girls from Allie’s school. I noticed that Colin stood right next to Allie.
I looked at Allie and raised my eyebrows. She shrugged. Colin and Ewan could have been hanging out with anybody at this big block party, and they were hanging out with us. What did it all mean?