It was still so early that the grass was covered in dew, cooling my bare feet, and the air smelled extra fresh and clean. With the sun rising in the clear sky, it was going to be a beautiful day.
Just as I shut the gate between our houses, Jonah came out his back door in a gray T-shirt and old gym shorts. His hair stuck up in all directions and he rubbed his eyes against the morning sun.
“You must really want me to hate you,” he said. “It’s, like, six thirty or something.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I said, stepping up on the back porch. We sat back down on the chaise chairs, just like last night.
He gave a noisy yawn. “Are you here to grovel some more?”
“Yes,” I said. “And then some.”
“Maybe I should just give in now so I can go back to bed.” He looked at me and gave me the tiniest of smiles.
“Let me just get this out first, okay?”
“And then I can go back to bed?”
“Well,” I said. “Just, listen.” He laid back on the chair, getting comfortable. “You have no idea how horrible I feel about what I did to you and Eve, and telling you that story about her and roller-skating.”
“Did she and that Marla girl at least have a fight while roller-skating?” he asked. I shook my head no. “Not even a small disagreement?”
“No,” I said. “I know they’ve drifted apart since she moved here, but I don’t know of any blowup fights.”
“Man, Mickey,” he said.
“I know! I guess I just got so focused on how Eve and I had started becoming good friends, but then suddenly we weren’t and I wanted to blame you for that. This is all my fault and I want you to know that I’m really going to be different and I’m so sorry for this whole mess.”
“Mickey, I forgive you but you gotta pull it together. Don’t be so insecure. You have all these new friends—who aren’t half-bad, even Kristen. And I’m just going to tell you this once—Kyle likes you. So do whatever you want with that.”
I ignored that last statement. I couldn’t think about Kyle just then. “You promise you’re not mad anymore?”
“I promise. But don’t push it.” He smiled again. I knew we weren’t back to normal yet, but we were on the way and that was good enough for me. “Now can I go back to bed?” He sat up from the lounge chair.
“Actually,” I said, “there’s one more thing.”
He plopped back down. “What?”
“Mom’s salon.”
“Did you finally burn the place down?”
“Not even funny,” I said. “But I did create a bit of a misunderstanding yesterday that has the whole renovation project for the show in trouble. I really need everyone’s help.”
“Everyone like me?”
“And Kristen and Lizbeth . . .”
“And Kyle,” he said and grinned. “I’m in.”
And that was a true friend.
The plan was to help Mom get the renovations back on schedule to make sure Mom had a great unveiling on Cecilia’s Best Tressed. I would get as many people down in the basement as possible to start painting. But we had to get moving. That six-o’clock deadline was going to hit us fast.
I woke Dad up and ran the idea by him. He thought it sounded like a plan that just might work. I raced down to the kitchen and I tried to brew coffee for him. It smelled like burnt tires.
“We got the paints last night, and it’s a lot,” Dad said, pouring my coffee down the sink, the steam from it washing over his face. He tried not to cringe as the smell hit him. “I know she’s still trying to get the painters to come back, but nothing yet.” He got the coffee canister from the freezer and measured out scoops for a fresh pot. “There’s still a lot we can do down there. I’ll call Jonah’s dad to see if he can help. If it’s going to be you and your friends, you’ll obviously have to have some supervision. And Mom’s approval.”
“Approval for what?”
We turned to see Mom standing in the doorway, her long silk robe cinched around her waist.
“Good morning,” Dad said to her. He gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“What’s the smell?” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“Mom, we have a plan,” I said.
She shuffled to get a mug as the new coffee began to brew. “There are so many pieces moving today,” she said to Dad. “I need to make a list.”
“Mom, did you hear me?” I said. “We have a plan!”
She looked to both of us, then asked Dad, “What’s going on?”
“Mickey thought all night about this, Chloe. And she has a solution—a good one. Hear her out.”
With a nod of encouragement from Dad, I said, “We can all work together—everyone! I can call my friends to pitch in and Dad even said he’d talk to Mark.” I nodded toward the back door to indicate Jonah’s dad. “They can supervise and we can work while you do your Be Gorgeous demo. It’ll all get done, Mom. We’ll make sure.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Too much is riding on this,” she said, pouring a cup of coffee. “I don’t want any tricks here at the last minute.”
“Mom, it’s not a trick. All you have to do is work upstairs and check on us now and then,” I said, knowing she’d appreciate that last part.
“I think this is a good idea, Chloe,” Dad said. “We’re all here to help.”
Mom seemed to think about it. Finally, she looked at me and said, “Okay, Mickey. Let’s see what you can do.”
I decided to start with the one girl in town who was still desperately seeking her fame—Kristen.
After her groggy hello, I quickly explained the Hello, Gorgeous! emergency. “You don’t have to do this,” I said. “But I wanted to let you know what we’re doing today. If you want to help, it would be awesome and I’d totally appreciate it.”
“Have you talked to Eve yet?” Kristen asked, yawning.
“I’ve left messages.”
“I just need to state for the record one more time—not cool.”
“I know,” I said, and sighed. “I’ve been making the rounds of forgiveness since last night.”
“You never did tell me why you did it.”
“Honestly? I was jealous.”
“But you have Kyle!” she said. I almost laughed—almost.
“Jealous because I missed hanging out with Eve. Jonah, too. But Jonah and I had a really good talk. I’m still working on Eve, though.”
“Well, I forgive you,” she said, “if you promise that’s the last of the crazy stuff you’ll do.”
“I promise, one hundred percent,” I said.
“Now,” she said. “What’s happening today?”
“Well, the thing is,” I said, “you’ll have to miss your appointment.”
“My appointment with fame? I mean, Violet?”
“You can say no,” I said. “And I’ll understand. But I need everyone’s help.”
“Oh. Well,” she said, thinking. “So I won’t be in the salon for Be Gorgeous at all?”
“No, you’ll be in the basement with us. But,” I said, thinking, “I bet there’ll be cameras down there.”
“That’s true.” She was quiet for a moment before she said, “I’ll do it.”
“Really? You mean it?”
“If these renovations fail, then the whole salon might fail,” she said. The word fail made my stomach ache. “And if the salon fails, no hair or nail appointments for me, ever. I’ll turn into a plain, styleless pile of blah. That can’t happen.”
“True,” I said. “And thanks a million, Kristen.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. “Wait, can I invite someone to help?”
“Of course,” I said. “Does his name start with Tobias and end with Matthew?”
I swear I could hear her grin through the phone. “You got it.”
Next, I called Lizbeth, who was an easy sell. “I’ll do it,” she said, before I’d even finished explaining the plan.
“Don’t you want to hear my apology first?” I a
sked.
“Um, okay, sure,” she said.
So I told her everything I’d told Kristen, and Lizbeth forgave me, too. All I could think was, Wow, I had these great friends all along and didn’t even appreciate them.
We all met at the diner on Camden Way where Suse, the old waitress, was friendly with Dad. She let us use the big tables in the back for our meeting.
Mark—Jonah’s dad—was there, greeting the friends he and Dad had called. “Get some food, if you want,” Dad said, passing a menu to them. “It’s on me. Going to be a long day.”
I spotted Kyle through the doorway into the main dining area looking for us. I raised my hand, and when he spotted me he smiled and came back.
“Hey,” I said. I’d only texted him the plan, so I was surprised that he was the first of my friends to show. “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets.
“You can sit down,” I said. “My dad said you can order anything you want. It’s on him.”
“What about me? I plan on ordering the whole menu.”
Jonah stood next to his friend—I’d completely missed seeing him walk in right behind Kyle.
“Hi, Jonah,” I said. “Thanks for coming.”
Soon, Lizbeth and Kristen arrived with Tobias and Matthew. I’d warned everyone that this was going to be a messy job and to dress in clothes they could really get dirty, but I guess all Kristen heard was a chance to dress in a special outfit. She wore overalls rolled up thick at the ankle and her hair pulled back in a red handkerchief. I wasn’t sure if she was dressed up for the cameras or Tobias, but either way she looked supercute. Matthew was dressed pretty much the way he usually dresses—collared polo and jeans—but it was probably his weekend polo because the colors were faded and there was a tiny tear on the white collar.
“Mickey,” Dad said, coming to my side. “We better get going if we’re going to pull this off. You’re in charge here.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath as I told myself I could do this. We could do this. Together. It was just after seven, and we had a lot to do in a short amount of time.
“Hello,” I said to the group, standing up from my seat. “Hello!” I called louder, hoping to quiet everyone. It didn’t work.
“Everybody listen!” Kyle yelled.
That worked.
“Um, thanks,” I told him.
“It’s going to be great,” he said, just to me, giving me a little wink.
Before my heart could race out of control, I turned to the group, who were now all looking at me expectantly.
“Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to my family, and I know Cecilia will be blown away by this. But there’s a lot to do, and not a lot of time, so I guess we should get started.”
We divided into teams so we were all responsible for one thing—like buying supplies at Home Depot (that took a crew of five), working on lighting (Dad had some electrician friends involved), doing the flooring, and installing all the new equipment that was set to arrive this afternoon. My friends and I were on paint duty. Soon we were organized and ready to go.
“I better go see how my mom is,” I told my friends, who were just getting their food. “Thanks so much for helping me out, you guys. It’s really cool of you.”
“It’s going to be fun,” Kristen said, setting down her orange juice. “We’re like an extreme home makeover crew.”
“And you might finally get to be on TV,” Lizbeth said, teasing.
“What? Wow, I never even thought of that.”
“Right,” we all said in unison.
“I’ll text you when it’s time to come over,” I told them. “But you guys will have to come right away. We’re on a major schedule so you can’t mess around. And make sure you come in the back.”
“Yes, Miz Wilson,” Jonah said.
“I’ll walk you over,” Kyle said.
I ignored the goofy smiles coming from the girls.
We started to leave and I was about to say good-bye when they all catcalled, “Wooooo!” Totally and completely embarrassing. Why couldn’t anyone grow up?
Once we were outside, Kyle said, “That was annoying.”
“Clearly we’re the only mature people around.”
We crossed the street and headed down the sidewalk. “So, um,” Kyle began. “I guess I don’t have to text you.” I looked at him. “You know, since I’m seeing you now. I asked last night if I could text you?”
“Or we could text instead of talk?”
“Very funny,” he said. “But really, last night was cool. Maybe we can do it again sometime,” he said.
I think I knew what he was saying but I said, “Totally. I’ll talk to the girls.” I had so much on my mind today that I couldn’t think about my first date with Kyle (my first date ever!) right now.
“That’s not really what I—”
“Well, here we are!” I said, stopping in front of Hello, Gorgeous! I didn’t want Mom to see me with Kyle in case she started asking questions. “Listen, thanks again for helping. I really appreciate it.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “It’s going to be amazing. That Cecilia chick is going to be blown away when we’re all done.”
I looked into his eyes, those soft brown beauties with long lashes, and I have to admit I melted a little. I managed to nod my head, mutter thanks, and head inside.
The salon was quiet, no energetic stylists gossiping, no hair dryers blowing, no clicking of heels on the marble floors. Just a distant shuffling noise that I knew was coming from Mom in the basement.
Downstairs, she was scooting a large plastic trash bin across the floor in her heels and sleek pants.
“Mom, let me do that,” I said, rushing over to her. “You’re going to get dirty.”
“We need to make sure this space is cleared before Mark and your father arrive with the paint,” she said, eyeing the space. “These boxes need to be moved. We need a trash pile.”
“Okay,” I said, “but let me do it. You have to look good for your demo.”
“The demo is the last thing on my mind,” she muttered.
“Let us worry about this. I promise we’ll take care of it.” I took out my phone and started texting. “I’m getting them over here now to do this.”
“The salon doesn’t even open for another two hours,” she said—still not looking at me, I might add. I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not.
“I’m just saying,” I said, “that they’ll be here soon and will help do this.”
They all showed up five minutes later, and right away Mom was directing us to move this here, take that out to the alley, get that down from there, sweep this here . . . on and on. She definitely had us sweating, but nobody was complaining.
Half an hour before the salon opened, when the stylists—and Cecilia—showed up, Dad texted that he was on his way with the paint supplies.
“Mom, go upstairs and get yourself ready,” I said.
She eyed the space from the bottom step, not ready to head back up yet. “Maybe we should clear this space over here . . .”
“Mom! We got it!” I said. “Shoo!”
Reluctantly, she left. Soon I’d have to go upstairs to do my regular job as salon sweeper. I couldn’t ditch work on a Saturday because of my own mess-up, and I couldn’t ask all my friends to come help me paint and not do the work myself. I was stuck doing both. I had no idea how I’d pull it off.
CHAPTER 20
“Mickey, could you please get that styling cream I asked for?” Devon asked as she walked her client back from the sinks.
“I’m getting it now,” I said, carrying an armful of butterfly clips to Violet.
Handing them to her, she said, “No, I said the large ones. These won’t work.”
“Oh, sorry!” I said, turning and heading back again.
“Hey, Micks, you going to the back?” Giancarlo asked. “Could you bring me some extra foils?”
“No proble
m!” I said, walking as quickly as I could without looking like I was frantic, which I totally was.
I passed Mom on my way, and in the second we passed she asked, “Everything okay?”
“Great!” I said, because everything had to be okay, even though I needed to be in seven places at once. I wasn’t even supposed to be up here this long. I’d come upstairs to find a bucket to fill with water so we could wash off the paintbrushes. I’d been sucked into all the needs of a crazy/typical Saturday at Hello, Gorgeous! instead.
In the storeroom, I dumped the small butterfly clips, grabbed some big ones, and tried to cradle them in my arms. With my other hand I picked up a stack of foils. Heading toward the floor, the basement door flew open and Kyle said, “Hey, you got that bucket yet?”
I thought my head was going to explode. That, or I was going to have a nervous breakdown.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” I said, my voice a bit wobbly. But I wasn’t going to cry. There wasn’t enough time.
“Are you okay?” he asked, furrowing his brows at me.
“Fantastic!” I said through a tightly stretched smile.
“Hey, Mickey, calm down,” Kyle said, reaching for some of the things I held. “Let me help you with this.”
“No!” I said, a bit too harshly. “Sorry, it’s just that if Mom or Cecilia sees you, it’ll make me look bad. I can do it.”
“Let me at least get the bucket,” he said, looking around the break room. “Can you point me in the right direction?”
“Try that bottom shelf back in the corner there. If we don’t have another bucket, maybe a plastic pitcher will do?”
“Thanks,” he said, and I started back out to the floor. “And Mickey?” I turned to face him. He had a soft, relaxed look on his face and seeing that calmness made me take a deep breath. “It’s going to be okay.”
I delivered the foils to Giancarlo and the clips to Violet and headed back to the basement to pick up my paintbrush.
“Mickey!”
I turned to see Devon standing with her fist propped on the hip of her black-and-white striped halter dress, tapping the toe of her yellow platform heels.
Oops!
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